Kossovo Plain is a high plateau, forty miles long and ten wide; from its rolling fields the forbidding crags of Montenegro and Albania are plainly visible, black in summer and white with snow in winter.
The gray dawn of a November day brought the first mutterings of the storm that was presently to break in fury up and down the whole front. The ragged, mud-stained cavalry of Serbia came trotting wearily through the infantry lines, bearing signs of the many skirmishes they had taken part in. The outlying posts were exchanging rifle fire with the advance guards of the enemy and now, through his powerful field glasses, the Serbian commander could see great masses of the invading troops deploying against his front.
"You have come to see the death of a nation," he remarked to an American correspondent who was present.
"It is sad that a stranger's eyes should see us die," said another officer in high command.
Soon the crackling and sputtering fire of the Mannlicher rifles was rippling up and down the lines; the whole front fromPristina to south of Marcovitza blazed flame, and the last big battle of Serbia's resistance was on. Two lines of men, the one thick and heavily equipped, the other attenuated and half-starved, were locked together in a desperate hand-to-hand struggle.
As though to afford a proper setting for the scene, nature herself broke into a wild fury; overhead the sky darkened, then the black clouds burst into a howling storm, full of cold sleet and rain. Amidst the black, stark hills, in a ceaseless downpour, men trampled and slipped through the clay mud, dripping wet from head to foot, stabbing, shooting, hurling hand bombs, until this peaceful valley echoed to the shouts and roar of combating armies.
And as the first day's fighting increased in intensity, the fury of the elements overhead intensified, and presently it was impossible to distinguish the roar of the big cannon from the deep crash of thunder; intermingling with the shouts and cries of men roared the blast of the gale as it whipped over rocky eminences.
Here again was raised that dreaded battle cry: "Na nosh! Na nosh!" With such a shout a whole regiment of the fierce Shumadians leaped out of its trenches and tore across the intervening ground between its trenches and the rocks of a near-by eminence which a force of Magyars had made into a position. Haggard from pain and starvation, their hair long and matted, some still in ragged uniforms, but most of them in the sheepskin coats of peasants, their eyes bloodshot with rage, they formed not a pleasant picture to the intrenched Huns. The rifle fire from the eminence leaped to a climax; the Hungarians knew they were fighting for their lives. In the horde rushing up the steep slope lay an appalling danger. Up they surged, without firing a shot, the bayonets gleaming in the lightning flashes. Among the rocks appeared white faces behind black rifle barrels. And then, with one fierce yell, the men in the shaggy sheepskin coats were hurling themselves in among the men in blue-gray uniforms. For a few brief moments there was a wild mêlée; then the men in blue-gray broke and ran.
Such scenes were common throughout the three or four days of the battle.
What made the resistance of the Serbian soldiers so fierce was the knowledge possessed by each that there was no alternative to victory but a retreat into those white, bleak wilds behind him. And there was not a Serbian boy in those ranks who did not realize what a winter's march through that country would mean.
From the fall of Nish, in fact, the Serbians had been fighting with their backs to a wall, and grim and bloody were the struggles between Serb and German in the wild tangle of hills that surrounded the Plain of Kossovo. Quarter was neither given nor asked, and unlucky was the too venturesome Austrian regiment that penetrated the Serbian lines the first few days without sufficient support.
"The 184th Regiment," said one of the soldiers' letters, which were published in the Austrian papers, "went into a valley and was never seen again." One Serbian regiment, stationed to hold the mouth to a small valley, to cover the retirement of another Serbian regiment, remained at its post for four days, fighting off the greater part of an Austro-German division, until, of the 1,200 men of the original detachment, only sixty-three remained on their feet, and most of those wounded.
To his credit be it said that the aged King of Serbia remained with his battling men to the end. While the guns were thundering against Pristina and the thin line of the last resistance was frenziedly holding back the German and Bulgarian lines, there came to an ancient church, which was under fire, a mud-stained old man in a field service uniform. The few foreign correspondents who saw him pass into the church did not recognize in this old man, bent, haggard and unshaven, the king who had sat on the throne of Kara-Georgevitch—the grandson of that famous swineherd.
Before the high altar the old man knelt in prayer while a group of staff officers stood at a distance, watching him in silence. The crash of bursting shrapnel came to them from outside and once a window was shattered and the little church was filled withsplinters of flying glass and still the King of Serbia knelt at his devotions, praying that at the last moment his kingdom might be saved from destruction.
But in spite of his appeals the end came.[Back to Contents]
END OF GERMAN OPERATIONS—FLIGHT OF SERB PEOPLE—GREECE
With the fall of Pristina and Mitrovitza on November 23, 1915, ended the operations against Serbia, so far as Mackensen and his Germans were concerned. On November 28, 1915, German Headquarters issued an extraordinary report in which it announced that with the flight of the scanty remains of the Serbian army into the Albanian Mountains "our great operations in the Balkans are brought to a close. Our object, to effect communications with Bulgaria and the Turkish Empire, has been accomplished." After briefly describing these operations and admitting the "tough resistance" of the Serbians, who had "fought bravely," this communiqué asserted that more than 100,000 of them, almost half their original force, had been taken prisoners, while their losses from killed and desertions could not be estimated. The impression left by this document was that there were very few of the Serbian soldiers left. On the other hand, the Allies claimed that on the date mentioned Serbia still had 200,000 fighting men left.
At any rate, it was true that Germany had now opened railroad communications with the Orient. Her engineers and military railroad staff had repaired the damage the retreating Serbians had done to the main trunk line, and early in December through trains were running from Berlin to Constantinople. Having accomplished this, Germany withdrew most of her troops from the Balkans, leaving the Bulgarians to finish Macedonia, and Austria to deal with Montenegro.
It was a nation, rather than an army, that was in flight; not for many hundreds of years has there been such an instance in history. When Nish had fallen into the hands of the enemy, the population in general had realized that the whole land was going to be overrun by the invaders. Then almost the whole people had set out in flight for Monastir, near the Greek frontier, where the Bulgarians had not yet closed in. On its retreat from Kossovo Plain the Serbian army caught up with the rear of this fleeing throng. Winter had set in unusually early that year. Even at Saloniki on the shores of the tepid Ægean and sheltered behind a ring of hills, where snow had not fallen in November in ten years, a fierce northerly gale, known as the "Vardar wind," had sprung up on November 26, 1915, and kept the air swirling with snow-flakes, while up in the near-by hills the snow was already two feet deep. Up in the Albanian Mountains the paths and trails were already choked, while chilling blasts of sleet-laden winds howled through the defiles.
The way from Upper Serbia to Monastir led across great, bleak slopes, which were now being lashed by these terrible winter storms. Old women and children fell by the wayside; young mothers, hugging their babies to their breasts, sought shelter behind rocks and died there of weakness and starvation. All along the road of retreat was marked by the abandoned dead and dying. One of the very few descriptions of this phase of the Serbian flight that has appeared was written by Mr. William G. Shepherd, special correspondent of the American United Press:
"The entire world must prepare to shudder," he writes from Monastir, "when all that is happening on the Albanian refugee trails finally comes to light. The horrors of the flight of the hapless Serbian people are growing with the arrival here of each new contingent from the devastated district.
"They say that nearly the whole route from Prisrend to Monastir, ninety miles, is lined with human corpses and the carcasses of horses and mules dead of starvation, while thousands of old men, women, and children are lying on the rocks and in the thickets beside the trail, hungry and exhausted, awaiting the end.
"At night the women and children, ill-clad and numbed with cold, struggle pitifully around meager fires of mountain shrub, to resume in the morning the weary march toward their supposed goal of safety—Monastir. But by the time this dispatch is printed Monastir, too, may be in the hands of the enemy. This will leave them to the mercy of the inhospitable mountain fastnesses, where for the past two days a terrific blizzard has been raging, or to the Bulgarians."
The chief of the Serbian General Staff, Field Marshal Putnik, old and now very ill, was driven along the road in a carriage until his horses fell dead of exhaustion. His escort of soldiers carried him for two days in an ordinary chair to which poles had been tied for handles and so brought him to safety. One account reported that the carriages of the retreating Serbians literally passed over the dead who had fallen in the road, for it was impossible either to spare the time to drag them out of the way or to make a detour to avoid them.
King Peter himself had escaped from Prisrend by motor car, accompanied by three officers and four men, arriving in Liuma over the Albanian frontier. Thence the monarch and his remaining handful of followers set out through the mountains, the king traveling part of the way on horseback and partly in a litter slung between two mules, through mud and a constant downpour of rain. During the evening of the second day they lost the trail, which was only rediscovered after much wandering.
After two weeks' rest at Scutari, King Peter continued his journey to San Giovanni di Medua, Durazzo, and Avlona, whence the party crossed over the Adriatic to Brindisi in Italy, where the king remained incognito for six days. After a two days' sea voyage from Brindisi the old monarch finally arrived in Saloniki, where he was received with all honors by the Greek authorities and the Allies.
It is estimated that the number of civilians in flight over these terrible roads numbered fully 700,000. And of these fully 200,000 died.
"It seems so useless," writes a German officer, in a letter which was published in a German paper, "for there is nowhere else forus to reach except the sea and there is nothing but the smell of dead bodies of horses, men, cattle—a discord of destruction that seems contrary to all our civilization. Our own men are apathetic and weary, and have no heart in the business. The Bulgarian soldiers are not very popular with us. In the first place they are more like Russians than Germans, and there is something about the Slav that makes one's hair bristle. Their cruelty is terrible."
Meanwhile, Prisrend, on the extreme right of the Serbian main force, did not fall till November 30, 1915. From Mitrovitza a part of the Serbian army had retired and fought the Austrians again at Vutchitra, but was beaten and driven across the Sitnitza, on the western bank of which stream it continued fighting until finally it fled into the mountains.
The main line of retreat was along the highway from Pristina to Prisrend. The Bulgarians, pressing on after, took the heights west of Ferizovitch and also advanced northward toward Ipek, against which point Kövess had sent a detachment. The retreat to Prisrend was covered by the Shumadians. On November 27, 1915, 80,000 Serbians stood at bay in front of this town, but next day, after a few hours' fighting, and having used up all their ammunition, they unbreeched their guns and fled across the frontier into Albania, making along the White Drin for Kula Liuma, while several thousands of them fell prisoners into the hands of the enemy. Thus was the last shot of the Serbian resistance in the northern section of the country fired.
Retreat of Serbians.
Retreat of Serbians.
The retreat of the Serbian armies through the mountains of Albania was almost as heartrending as the flight of the civilian population. Day by day, thousands of men, ill-clad and ill-shod, or with bare and bleeding feet, so famished that they fed on the flesh of dead horses by the wayside, stumbled painfully and wretchedly along, over trails deep in snow, some going west toward Scutari, others attempting to reach Greece through Elbassan and Dibra. All semblance of military formation or order was lost; they were now nothing more than a fleeing mob of disorganized peasants, some unarmed, others with guns but no ammunition. Officers and men trudged on side by side, on equalterms. Once an Austrian light mountain battery, following on the heels of the retreat, had arrived at the mouth of a long defile through which the last of the retreating Serbians were winding their way into the mountains, in single file. The Austrian battery immediately opened fire and swept the defile from end to end of all human life.
While the main Serbian armies were being driven out of their native land, the Bulgarians, after taking Babuna Pass and Kitchevo and Kruchevo, on November 20, 1915, halted on their way to Monastir, now only a few miles distant. Monastir itself is practically an unfortified city; it lies on the edge of a broad level plain, offering not the least advantage to a defending force. A few guns might easily sweep the city into a heap of ruins. But above Monastir towers a lofty mountain, so steep that even under peaceful conditions a strong man finds it hard to climb. A few guns placed in position among the rocks on top of this mountain could command the city and all of the surrounding plain within range of their fire. Therefore, the problem of an invading force is to take the mountain outside the city, rather than the city itself.
Beyond this lofty eminence, to the westward, rise thickly wooded ridges, rugged mountain fastnesses, through which, along the bottom of a winding defile, runs the road to Resen and Ochrida and three large lakes: Ochrida, Prespa, and Little Prespa. Below these lakes, which almost join, is the Greek frontier; above them, and some distance beyond, lies the Albanian frontier.
For some days Vassitch and his remaining force of a few thousand footsore soldiers remained at Prilep, awaiting the Bulgarians. When finally they took Brod, with the object of cutting off his retreat, he quitted Prilep and fell back on Monastir, then retired over the mountains to Resen. Here he was joined by two barefooted regiments that had come down from the north with the refugees, but they were too exhausted to be of much value for fighting. Altogether they numbered about 7,000, while the pursuing Bulgarians were at least 30,000 strong. At Resen, where the roughness of the country enabled them to make some resistance, they fought the last battle, or skirmish rather, that was to take place between the Serbians and the invaders, then retireddown along the eastern shore of Lake Prespa and so over into Greece. And now not one Serbian soldier remained either in Serbia proper or Serbian Macedonia. Many of them were yet to do some more fighting, against the Austrians at least, for Austria had yet to invade and conquer that other little Serbian state, Montenegro. As yet the Austrian right wing of Kövess's army had not entered Montenegro, but maintained itself at Vishegrad, from which, using it as a pivot, the center and left wing had swept over Serbia. From Vishegrad across the northern boundary of Montenegro stretched another force of Austrians, meant only to hold the Montenegrins back. Hitherto, the Montenegrin army had been facing this line, without being able to afford the Serbians much assistance. It was not until after the last of the Serbians had been dealt with that the Austrians turned their attention toward the Montenegrins and the conquest of their rugged country. Nor did they seriously undertake this task until toward the end of the year; the whole of this campaign is an episode by itself and will be dealt with presently.
With the disappearance of the last of the Serbian armies into the defiles of the Albanian Mountains, the French and British forces, which had been vainly endeavoring to save Serbia, had no longer any special object in holding their advanced positions in Macedonia, especially as they were not strong enough to undertake an offensive movement, even after the last Serbian defeat, though during November, 1915, large reenforcements had been arriving and disembarking in Saloniki. As already stated, the rumors of military action on the part of Russia against Bulgaria had proved unfounded and a second bombardment of Varna had had no effect on the course of the campaign. Italy had done nothing in the Balkans as yet, except to fire a few shells into Dedeagatch on November 11, 1915. A month later she landed an army on the Albanian coast, at Avlona and elsewhere, but, while this facilitated the escape of many of the Serbian refugees, it was too late to have any effect on the military situation.
Throughout the latter part of November, 1915, after the battle between General Sarrail's army at Mt. Archangel, the British had sent up considerable forces which were deployed on theFrench right and were holding the mountain chain to the north of Lake Doiran, forming a natural boundary between Greek and Bulgarian territory.
Though Sarrail had repulsed all the Bulgarian attacks, his position was rendered embarrassing by the fact that the Greek Government had decided to concentrate a large part of its army in that particular corner of its frontiers. Obviously, the Greeks had a right to make whatever movements they wished on their own territory, but the consequences were singularly unfortunate, both for the French and the British, for the Greek commander in chief found it necessary to move troops and stores along the same line of railroad which the British and the French were using. This meant a curtailment of supplies and the checking of effective and continuous supports for the fighting line.
Added to this was the sudden coming of an early winter. While snow was falling even in Saloniki, up in the hills where the advanced lines were deployed a furious blizzard was blowing, against which the soldiers were only prepared with small tents of waterproof sheets for shelters. Down in the base camps the gale swept down the tents so that the men were practically unprotected from the fury of the freezing blasts. At the front the enemy's positions were no longer visible, the intervening valleys being full of swirling clouds of snow. On November 27, 1915, the French War Office issued an official communiqué, which gave the first indication of what was about to happen:
"In view of the present situation of the Serbian armies our troops, which have been occupying the left bank of the Tcherna, have been removed to the right bank of the river, the movement being effected without difficulty."[Back to Contents]
ALLIES WITHDRAW INTO GREECE—ATTITUDE OF GREEK GOVERNMENT
A general withdrawal into Greece, with Saloniki as base, had been decided on by General Sarrail, in accordance with instructions from Paris and London.
This now brought up a very peculiar and delicate situation between the Allies and Greece. As a neutral, Greece was strongly disposed to take up the same attitude toward the belligerents as Holland, who during the early part of the war had been interning great numbers of the English and Belgian soldiers who had sought refuge inside her boundaries when the Germans had taken Belgium. The Allies, on the other hand, were not inclined to accept this point of view, as Greece was bound to Serbia by a defensive treaty and therefore could not assume full neutrality without repudiating this treaty. To this Greece opposed the contention, based on a technicality, that the treaty with Serbia had in view only a defensive alliance against Bulgaria, whereas now the Austrians and Germans were attacking, as well as the Bulgarians. The successes of the Austro-German forces had stiffened the determination of the Greek King and his Government to stand by this policy.
However, there was ample room for a diversity of opinion among the Greeks themselves; on which side Greece's political interests lay was largely a matter of individual opinion. The chief, and probably the only, reason why there was any popular feeling in favor of the Allies was because they were opposed to the Bulgarians, whom the Greeks hate in season and out.
But on the other hand, Greek ambitions and Italian ambitions clash in Albania, in the islands of the Archipelago and in Asia Minor. Both nations hope to acquire territory in those countries. And Italy was one of the Allies. Had Italy not entered the war it is very probable that Greece would have aligned herself with the Serbians, French, and British in the early stages of theiroperations. But when Italy declared war on the side of the Allies, there was no doubt in the minds of the Greek politicians that she had been promised much, if not all, of the territories on which they had their own eyes. Added to this, the King of Greece was related to the German Emperor through marriage, his queen being a sister of Emperor William.
All through November, 1915, and during the early part of December, 1915, the ambiguous, doubtful attitude of Greece was causing the French and the British much anxiety. It was a curious and, for the Allies, a very dangerous situation. Faced as they were by an enemy much their superior in numbers, there was danger of finding that disadvantage considerably intensified by the inclusion of Greece among their enemies.
The unrestricted command of the base at Saloniki was now indispensable for the safety of the allied forces. They had landed under the terms of a "benevolent neutrality," even at the request of the Greek Government, while Venizelos was at its head. With the change in premiers had come a complete change in attitude. The Greeks had begun hampering the Allies at every turn. Prices were raised; they were called upon to pay in advance, and in gold, for the use of the railroads in transporting the troops. Further, the Greek troops were actually occupying the defensive positions around Saloniki; positions which the Allies should occupy and strengthen, if they were to make their base secure. The Greeks stretched barbed-wire entanglements between themselves and the allied troops. Submarine mines, stored as if ready to be launched, were discovered at the mouth of the Vardar River, and the fort at the entrance to the upper Gulf of Saloniki had been secretly strengthened and heavy guns mounted. The port swarmed with German and Austrian and Bulgarian spies; its atmosphere was heavy with hostility to the Allies. Prince Andrew of Greece, in an interview with a neutral journalist, said that as long as 80,000 French soldiers were hostages to the Greek army for the Allies' good behavior, the Allies would never dare to bombard Athens or any other Greek port. So critical did the situation become that one Sunday the British ships cleared for action.
And now, after the failure of the French troops to join up with the Serbians in Babuna Pass, arose the probability of withdrawing their forces in Serbian and Bulgarian territory across the frontier to Saloniki. Thus arose the question: How would Greece comport herself on their retirement? Would she give them complete freedom of communication south of the frontier to Saloniki? Or would she seek to disarm and intern them and such Serbians as crossed the border?
A brief review of the political events that had been happening in Athens since the situation of the Serbians had become acute will show how divided Greece herself was on these questions.
When France and Great Britain decided to assist Serbia by sending forces to her support, Venizelos was premier of Greece and it was with his consent that the first contingents began disembarking in Saloniki on October 5, 1915. His policy of thus aiding the operations was thoroughly discussed in the Greek Chamber of Deputies and approved by a majority of 45 in a house of 257.
The following day King Constantine summoned the premier and told him that he could not support his policy and demanded his resignation, which was given. In his place the king installed M. Zaimis. In a meeting of the Chamber a day or two later, on October 11, 1915, the new premier defined the policy of his Government as one of armed neutrality, adding that "our attitude in the future will be adapted to events, the course of which will be followed with the closest of attention." Whereupon Venizelos arose, protesting, and made a speech that clearly defined the attitude that he thought Greece should follow, and which he felt was supported by a majority of the people.
"Even if there did not exist the treaty with Serbia," he said, "our interests oblige us to depart from neutrality, as another state wishes to aggrandize itself at our expense. The question is not whether we ought to make war or not, but when we ought to make war. In any case we ought not to allow Bulgaria to crush Serbia. The national soul will say that it is to the interest of Greece that Bulgaria should be crushed. If Bulgaria should conquer, Hellenism will be completely vanquished."
That Venizelos spoke for the majority of the deputies was soon to manifest itself. On November 4, 1915, in the course of a debate in the Chamber, a Venizeloist deputy, M. Vlachos, made some criticism of the minister of war, which caused the latter to leave the Chamber in violent anger. The scene provoked a tumult, in which cheers and protests mingled. The deputy finally apologized and order was reestablished, the minister of war returning to his seat. It was then that Venizelos arose and expressed the opinion that an apology was also due from the war minister because of his disrespectful behavior in leaving the House. The premier, M. Zaimis, thereupon declared that, in the opinion of the Government, the war minister's conduct had been perfectly correct and he demanded a vote of confidence from the assembled deputies.
M. Venizelos replied by delivering a strong attack on the Government's war policy, which, he said, was not supported by a majority, deploring that Bulgaria was being allowed to crush Serbia, that she might fall on Greece later.
As a result of the vote that followed this discussion, the Chamber refused to express confidence in the present Government by a vote of 147 against 114, in consequence of which the premier, Zaimis, was compelled to resign. The king, however, still persisted in his opposition to the policy of the Venizelos party and immediately called upon M. Skouloudis, one of his own partisans, to form a new cabinet. To avoid any more expressions of disagreement with the king's policy on the part of the Chamber, the new premier, only a week later, ordered the dissolution of that body, his pretext being that the country at large should have an opportunity of expressing itself through a general election. This was a move which Venizelos had always opposed; for, he pointed out, so long as the Greek army was mobilized and Greek soldiers were excluded from casting their votes, the true opinion of the people could never be determined. And even if the soldiers were allowed to vote, they would be under the influence of their officers, who always supported the king's policy.
This high-handed procedure on the part of the Government created a bad impression in France and Great Britain. Whatadded to that was the dispatch which announced, only a few days before, the arrival in Saloniki in a special train from Sofia of four German officers: Baron Falkenhausen, Colonel von Erbstner, General von der Goltz's A. D. C., Prince von Bülow's son, and another. After a short stay in Saloniki they departed for Athens in a Greek torpedo boat, accompanied by Greek officers of high rank. It was just after the arrival of such a mission in Sofia that Bulgaria had made her agreement with Germany, promising her support in driving out the Serbians. And meanwhile Premier Skouloudis, doing as Radislavov, the Premier of Bulgaria, had done, was protesting daily that Greece had no intention of going against the Allies.
But incidentally he also expressed the opinion publicly that Greece's "benevolent neutrality" did not extend to protecting the allied troops, whether French, British, or Serbian, from the operation of international law, and that, therefore, these troops would be disarmed and interned on their passing over into Greek territory.
His words created some alarm in the allied countries, which was deepened when it became known that Greece was concentrating 200,000 men in and around Saloniki. The question now arose, Should the Allies submit quietly while Greece carried out this publicly declared intention, or should they persuade her to a change of opinion by the application of armed force?
Ordinary arguments had proved unavailing and much time was lost in talk. Opinion and feeling began growing heated in France and Great Britain over the delay, as well as over the question itself. France in particular called for immediate and energetic action, urging that it was necessary to show the iron hand under the velvet glove. The iron hand was not a mere figure of speech, for the British and French fleets could not only bombard the coast cities of Greece, but institute a blockade which would cut off all her supplies.
On November 19, 1915, the British Legation in Athens, communicated a statement to the press, beginning with the following passage:
"In view of the attitude adopted by the Hellenic Government toward certain questions closely affecting the security of the allied troops and their freedom of action (two privileges to which they are entitled in the circumstances in which they landed on Greek territory), the allied powers have deemed it necessary to take certain measures, the effect of which is to suspend the economic and commercial facilities which Greece has hitherto enjoyed at their hands."
At the same time came a dispatch from Athens announcing that the French and British ships had begun to institute a severe search on board all steamers flying the Greek flag in the Ægean and in the Mediterranean.
Thus a partial embargo was placed on Greek shipping, only severe enough to make the Greek Government realize what might happen should a thorough blockade be established. At the same time two visits that were paid to King Constantine while this crisis was acute had a favorable influence on it. One was from M. Denys Cochin, a member of the French Cabinet and a man held in the highest esteem in Greece; the other was from Lord Kitchener, who was on his way back from an inspection of the British forces in Gallipoli, whither he had been dispatched by his colleagues in the British Cabinet to report on the advisability or the reverse of abandoning that peninsula.
Still the negotiations were spun out and it was not till November 23, 1915, that matters were brought to a head by the presentation of a combined note to Greece.
This note demanded formal assurances that the allied troops should under no circumstances be disarmed and interned, but should be granted full freedom of movement, together with such facilities as had already been promised. Greece was only required to live up to her previous promises; she need not abandon her attitude of neutrality. On the other hand, the note categorically stated that the Allies would make restitution for all territory occupied and pay suitable indemnities. Two days later the Greek Government replied in friendly but somewhat vague terms, which were not considered satisfactory, and on the 26th the Entente sent a second note asking for a precise assurance regardingthe liberty of movement of the allied troops. The Greek answer was liked so little that it was decided to tighten somewhat the grip of the iron hand.
Thus what is known to international law as a "measure of constraint short of war" was instituted. The pressure was at once felt. At Saloniki particularly the people were obliged to live from hand to mouth, the supply boats being able to bring in only enough flour to last two days. So great was the need of grain in Greece itself that a cargo of flour which had been condemned at Piræus was baked into bread. The Bulgarians attempted to relieve the situation by sending in 15,000 tons of wheat by rail from Sofia, but as the line over which it passed through Drama was presently occupied by the British, this source of supply could not be maintained, nor would it have been sufficient to have relieved the situation.
The Greek public and their Government were strongly impressed. One dispatch stated that Greek troops were patrolling the streets of Athens and that a heavy guard had been placed around the royal palace in fear of revolutionary attempts. Meanwhile the Cabinet Council was sitting in permanent conference with the chiefs of the General Staff trying to come to a decision.
"You are wicked," said M. Rallis, Greek Minister of Justice, to a British newspaper correspondent; "the only thing we want is peace and you force us to make war. You are starving us; two wheat vessels were stopped to-day. You want us to save you when no English soldiers shed their blood for Serbia, when scarcely an English rifle has been fired. We do not wish to be another Serbia."
The newspapers which supported Venizelos, on the other hand, accused the Government of having precipitated the country to the verge of a conflict with the Entente Powers by want of foresight and a policy of deception.
Finally, however, the Greek Government came to terms, accepting practically all that the Allies demanded and withdrawing most of the Greek soldiers from Saloniki, while the Gevgheli-Saloniki and the Doiran-Saloniki railroads were handed over to the Allies with their adjacent roads and land. King Constantinecomplained that he was between the devil and the deep sea, or words to that effect, and protested that Greek neutrality was violated, though he did not deny that he had at first acceded to the invitation Venizelos had extended to the Allies to send troops to Saloniki. The king, anxious to be rid of his unwelcome guests, let it be understood that if the Allies would only retire from Greece altogether, he and his army would protect their retreat and see that they were not molested on embarking. But this was a proposition which the Entente Powers were not inclined to consider at all by this time.
Meanwhile, before Greece was finally compelled to come to a complete understanding with the Allies regarding her attitude in the event of a general retirement on Saloniki, General Sarrail's position was becoming decidedly dangerous. The Bulgarian armies were, for the time being, busy pursuing the last remnants of the Serbians out of the country beyond Monastir, but presently they would be able to give their full attention and strength to an attack on the Allies. Thanks to the difficulties occasioned by the concentration of Greek troops in that section of the country, the British forces had not been afforded ample means of transportation and they were arriving but very slowly, though gradually they had established a line along the rugged hills to the north of Doiran. They had not, at the end of November, 1915, fought a general action as yet.
General Sarrail's position was a remarkably insecure one. The taking of Prilep, and subsequently the occupation of Monastir by the Bulgarians, practically turned his line and exposed him to a perilous flanking movement against his extreme left on the Tcherna. His troops were bunched up in a very acute salient, the head of which was just south of Gradsko, and his front very largely conformed to the convolutions of this and the Vardar River. On his right, from before Strumitza Station, the British continued the line to the north of Lake Doiran.
It will seem somewhat strange that, though the British were the first to disembark in Saloniki in the first week in October, 1915, two months should elapse before they took any prominent part in the fighting. The British commander, General Mahon,reached Greece on October 12, 1915, to be followed a month later by General Munro, but the British made no move of any importance. There were some trifling encounters with outposts, and these had been magnified into battles by the dispatches from Greece, but the truth was that the French had borne the brunt of the struggle on the Tcherna, perhaps because they were then more numerous than the British, who were not actively engaged in force until the first week of December. Their trenches, north and West of Lake Doiran, among bleak hills covered with snow, spread out fanwise in the direction of Strumitza, which they had taken over from the French when the latter had gone up the Vardar to Krivolak.[Back to Contents]
BULGARIAN ATTACKS—ALLIES CONCENTRATE AT SALONIKI
On December 5, 1915, the Bulgarians gave the first indications of their preparations to break through the thin lines of the Allies. On that date the British were to have their first taste of heavy fighting. The Bulgarians delivered a massed attack at two points; one at Demir Kapu, another against the British positions on the Rabrovo-Doiran road.
The first assault of the enemy succeeded in gaining a foothold in the British trenches, but the British were presently able to regain their positions and drive the Bulgarians back. Here again it was obvious that the hearts of the Bulgarian soldiers were not in this fighting. Most of the British soldiers had never seen any fighting before, yet they were able to accomplish what the fierce Serbians had not been able to do; drive a superior force of Bulgarians back at the point of the bayonet. Numbers of the Bulgarians were taken prisoners, willingly enough, it seemed, and they told their captors that up to the actual fighting, until they actually saw the troops they were engaging, they had been under the impression they were to fight Greeks.
This first attack made the British commander realize, however, that the enemy opposing him was vastly his superior in numbers. A second assault, delivered in the face of a hot fire from the British, but with overwhelming numbers, drove the British soldiers from their first line of trenches; but they held on to their second line and every effort to expel them was a costly failure.
Meanwhile, Sarrail, on the Vardar, under cover of a feigned attack on Ishtip from Kara Hodjali, drew in his men from the Tcherna, and before the enemy had realized what he was doing, he had retired from the Kavaar Camp with all his stores, of which there was by this time a tremendous accumulation, and entrained at Krivolak, blowing up the bridges and tearing up the railroad behind him. On December 5, 1915, he had reached the north end of the Demir Kapu Gorge (Defile) practically without opposition, but in the gorge he had to fight hard to get out of it.
He had had the forethought, however, to throw up strong defensive works at the entrance and this enabled him to repel the attacks of the Bulgarians in spite of the determination with which they were being pushed. The retreat through the defile was an extremely precarious and difficult task, as there was no way out except along the railroad, running along a narrow shelf cut out of the steep, rocky banks of the Vardar. Yet the retreat was successfully accomplished, with all the stores, and, after destroying a tunnel and a bridge across the Vardar, it was continued to Gradetz, where heavy intrenchments had been thrown up.
Here, on December 8-9, 1915, the Bulgarians delivered a very violent attack, but were driven off with heavy losses. On the 10th the French announced that they were now occupying a new front, along the Bojimia, a branch of the Vardar, and that they were in touch with the left flank of the British.
Meanwhile, on the east side of the Vardar, General Todoroff was continuing his attack on the British. He had massed together about 100,000 men. On the morning of the 6th, after the first assault and under cover of dense mists that were rolling upfrom the swamps down near Saloniki, he was able to get in close to the British without being seen. As the dawn began breaking he poured a rain of high-explosive shells on the British, which here consisted mostly of Irish regiments.
As on the day before, the enemy came on in successive waves, so thick that the later ones carried the first before them, even when they turned to flee from the heavy fire of the British. Finally the British were again compelled to give way before the heavy impact of numbers. By evening they had retired two miles, not a great deal, considering the masses that were driving them. More than once it looked as though the British would be literally overwhelmed and annihilated. Eight guns were lost and about 1,300 men were killed or wounded.
The retirement had been in the direction of the Vardar and by the end of the second week of December, 1915, the British were able to make another stand over on the banks of the Vardar, below the right wing of the French.
The whole Bulgarian field army was evidently divided between the Rabrovo road and north of Strumitza Junction. It was clearly the enemy's intention to drive a wedge into the center, thus to isolate all the northern divisions and to bring about a general disaster.
Sarrail recognized his danger and began to retire his northern units, covering the movement with a fiercely contested action in the region of Strumitza.
A British hydroplane returning to the mother ship after patrol duty over Saloniki. In the background are the City of Saloniki and warships of the Allies.
A British hydroplane returning to the mother ship after patrol duty over Saloniki. In the background are the City of Saloniki and warships of the Allies.
By December 11, 1915, the French and British lines were close back on the Greek frontier, and although the Bulgarians delivered a heavy attack on that day, it was their final effort; the following day the Allies were across the frontier and the Bulgarians made no attempt to follow them. Possibly they were restrained by their German allies, or possibly they had no desire to involve Greece, for had the Bulgarians set foot on Greek soil, it is more than likely that Greek troops would have resisted them, and once such an encounter had taken place, Greece would probably have thrown herself into the war on the side of the Allies. As they retired, the allied troops destroyed the railroad behind them and set fire to Gevgheli and other towns on theother side of the border. And, by a fortunate coincidence, it was on the day before they crossed the frontier that Greece had finally accepted the proposals of the Allies that their forces were to be allowed freedom of movement.
Considering the tremendous difficulties he had had to contend with, in the face of the immense strength of his enemy, General Sarrail's retreat by no means diminished his reputation as a military leader. Although his men had at their disposal only one single-track line of railroad and no roads, their retirement was conducted in such order that they were able to save and withdraw all their stores, while the total of their casualties did not exceed 3,500, a very moderate loss under the circumstances. In less skillful hands the retreat might easily have developed into an irretrievable disaster. In its main object, saving Serbia from being crushed, the campaign had certainly been a failure, but this was rather the fault of the allied governments, and not because of the inefficiency of the leaders in the field.
The Bulgarians, naturally, felt that they had attained a great victory, and in a measure they had. On December 14, 1915, they published their version of the operations as follows:
"December 12, 1915, will remain for the Bulgarian Army and nation a day of great historical importance. The army on that day occupied the last three Macedonian towns that still remained in the hands of the enemy: Doiran, Gevgheli, and Struga. The last fights against the British, French, and Serbians took place near Doiran and Ochrida Lakes. The enemy was everywhere beaten. Macedonia is free! Not a single hostile soldier remains on Macedonian soil.... In the course of ten days the expeditionary army of General Sarrail was beaten and thrown back on neutral territory. On December 12, the whole of Macedonia was freed. The pursuit of the enemy was immediately stopped when the neutral frontier of Greece was reached."
This communiqué further pointed out that Serbia had been beaten in forty, and the British and French in ten, days. An official paper in Sofia declared that the "victories won over the Franco-British hordes" was even more glorious than those wonover Serbia and declared that Bulgaria had given a lesson to the so-called Great Powers, Great Britain and France, showing them at the same time the manner in which small nations could fight for their independence.
That the Bulgarians did not pursue the allied troops across the Greek frontier was one of the surprises of the campaign. What the Greeks would have done had their hereditary enemies invaded their soil, even though not for the purpose of attacking them, was a question which perhaps the Greek Government itself had not fully answered. Certainly the critical character of the situation placed the Greeks in a very uncomfortable position. It had been at their suggestion that the Allies had come to Greece, and though a protest had been made against their landing, that protest was the last word in formality.
Consequently the Allies had some shadow of a moral right to the use of Saloniki, but now that Sarrail was falling back, with every prospect of his bringing the battle front down with him into Greek territory, the diplomatic situation became extremely delicate. To add to the confusion of the situation, it must be remembered that two or three divisions of the Greek Army had been concentrated in the very district through which the Bulgarians must pass, should they decide to follow the retiring column of the Allies' troops. Here, then, was the Greek dilemma; they had allowed, under formal protest, a pacific penetration of their country in accordance with the agreement they had made with Serbia, that the latter should be allowed to import armies, munitions, and other military material over the Saloniki-Uskub railroad. This agreement, Venizelos insisted, was binding on Greece, notwithstanding the equivocations of the king. But when the French and British troops retired, another situation was created altogether, because it was scarcely likely that the Bulgarians would stop short at the frontier of Greece, and more than likely that they would follow up their advance and incidentally shell and destroy Greek property. Thus Bulgaria would be doing what the Allies had very carefully avoided doing: commit an act of war against Greece.
But fortunately for Greece, the Bulgarians did not continue the pursuit, though the Greek Government waited anxiously to see what turn events would immediately take. Sofia published the most reassuring things about the friendliness of Bulgaria for Greece, though of course Athens, being herself the seat of a Balkan nation, knew what value such protestations of affection had. Greece had only to recall the expressions of friendliness Bulgaria had uttered to Serbia less than a week before attacking her.
Meanwhile the French and British had fallen back on an intrenched line two or three miles to the south of the Greek frontier. This front stretched from Karasuli, on the Vardar River, to Kilindir, on the Doiran-Saloniki railroad, and was about fifteen miles in length. The French were still on the left and the British on the right. The British flank, in the east, was about thirty miles from Saloniki. These lines were strongly intrenched and otherwise strengthened, for it was not yet certain that the enemy did not mean to invade Greece.
In the early days of October, when the Allies had first begun landing their troops, it had not yet been definitely decided that Saloniki was to be held permanently, or at least as long as the war lasted, but by this time the value of the port had been realized. So long as it was held in strong force it constituted a constant threat against any attempt on the part of the Austro-Germans to push their invasion down into Egypt. Further, it was suggested by naval experts that if ever it passed into the hands of the Germans, it might easily become the base for an effective submarine warfare in the eastern Mediterranean, which would be extremely dangerous to the allied fleets in those waters, already the scene of considerable submarine activity, as was demonstrated by the sinking of not a few transports, war vessels, and other, ships by the enemy. These waters could not be dragged with steel nets, as had been done in the British Channel. As the terminus of the railroad running through Macedonia from Belgrade, Saloniki was potentially an important city. Austria had long been aware of the high significance of this port and it was, in fact, the final objective of her "Drang nach Osten" policy.When it fell to Greece after the Second Balkan War she had been bitterly disappointed, which was one reason why she had done her best to spur Bulgaria on to precipitate that unfortunate campaign. And this was another little matter which probably helped to swing the balance of Greek sympathy toward the Allies. What prosperity Saloniki had enjoyed during Turkish rule had been entirely due to its big Jewish population, which had been the mainstay of its commercial activities.
When Greece acquired possession little change followed, and when the troops of the Allies began to disembark in the beginning of October they were at once confronted by a serious difficulty in the absence of docking and local transportation facilities. There was, further, the serious difficulty of obtaining space ashore for camp ground for the troops, as well as suitable level stretches for aeroplanes, Greek troops being in occupation of all such spots. Moreover, the railroad facilities, even when given over entirely to their use, were inadequate.
So long as the outcome of the effort to join up with the Serbians remained in doubt the Allies had not given much energy to fortifying Saloniki in great strength, but immediately the retirement was decided upon this task was undertaken with some dispatch. On and after December 12, 1915, the Allies, having at last succeeded in compelling Greece to agree to their plans for a permanent occupation, began preparations to meet all possible events in the future. As the Greek troops withdrew, French and British forces took their places, some being fresh arrivals, for reenforcements were landing daily at the rate of between 4,000 and 5,000. As there were many rumors of the enemy's intention to advance and attack before the city should be made more defensible, the work of making it as formidable as possible was pushed with fever heat.
Steps were at once taken to establish strong lines of intrenchments. In the course of a week or ten days this task was sufficiently under way to settle the alarms of an immediate attack from the enemy; the lines of the defensive works followed a half circle of hills and lakes, some fifty miles in extent, reaching on the west from the Vardar River to the Gulf of Orfano onthe east and inclosing a very considerable area, giving the Allies sufficient freedom of movement.
Yet it was fortunate for the Allies that political considerations deterred the enemy from making the attack. Had the Bulgarians advanced in full force, the Allies would have been heavily outnumbered, not only in men, but in heavy artillery and ordinary field guns as well. It is doubtful whether they could successfully have resisted a determined effort to turn their flanks.
The conformation of the coast line around Saloniki is a handicap to a continuous defensive line. It would demand more men than other conformations would. Saloniki stands on a gulf, or bay, and this would necessitate spreading the defending lines around it in almost a complete circle, so that the adjacent shores would be protected as well.
There does exist a natural horseshoe of positions from which Saloniki could be held and which would cover the port from sea to sea, but their development extends from 120 to 130 miles of country, an area which could not well be held with less than a force of half a million men. At the eastern horn of the Gulf of Saloniki runs the Kaloron Ridge, culminating in a peak some 3,000 feet above sea level. All the southern slopes of this ridge are exposed to the fire of any fleet of warships that might lie offshore. This ridge continues toward the north by two more peaks, each connected with its neighbor by a saddle-shaped ridge. The positions along this ridge would pass first over a point about a thousand feet high, covering the village of Galatista, and next by a chain to the Hortak Dagh Mountains, one of the nearest points in the line to Saloniki.
To the north again the ground falls abruptly to the level of Lake Langaza, thence turns eastward to the height of Dautbaba, after which the lines could be stretched to the borders of the swampy region at the mouth of the Vardar, ground which is as impassable as the Pripet Marshes on the Russian front and which were formerly occupied by the Bulgarian comatjis, in spite of all the efforts of the Turks to eject or capture them.