The Dardanelles Conspiracy by Alan Bardos (best ereader for pc TXT) 📗

Johnny with a sigh. ‘You’re a game chap, Swift, that can’t be denied. The army needs men like you. I’m willing to put your behaviour in Flanders down as poor judgment and give you a chance to redeem yourself.’

‘I’m most grateful, sir,’ Johnny said thanking his lucky stars that he’d bothered to shoot the mine.

‘I understand you speak Turkish, perhaps we can make good use of you in the coming landings. I fancy a spell with the Lancashire Fusiliers would be just the ticket. Their adjutant will know what to do with you. If you don’t make a good show of it, I’ll shoot you myself. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Excuse me Sir Ian, but there is another matter you’re not aware of, Swift has been abusing his position of trust in HQ, in a matter that included Major Churchill,’ Sir George said pointedly.

‘What matter?’ Churchill asked.

‘The witnessing of my signature on…’

‘Oh come-come Smyth don’t be so churlish, especially when you should have been paying attention to what you were signing,’ Churchill said, bemused.

‘Nonetheless, you have approved the validity of forged documents.’

‘Want your share of the glory Smyth, so you can scamper back up the greasy pole my brother pushed you down?’ Major Churchill asked. ‘I'm sure you’d be only too willing to overlook the matter if you were to come to Lemnos?’

‘If I was called to serve on the staff, I would of course do my duty in any way I was directed,’ Sir George said.

‘Let’s just bring him, he was pretty hopeless as naval liaison, but might serve as some kind of secretary,’ Hamilton said.

Sir George stuck his chin out satisfied.

Johnny turned to Hamilton, remembering a promise. ‘Would it be possible to take my servant with me?’

Johnny winked at Crassus, who looked like the bottom had just fallen out of his world.

Chapter 43

Laszlo Breitner’s cab forced its way through the crowds of troops arriving at the port of Gallipoli, on the southern coast of the peninsula. He'd managed to organise a transfer from coastal defence and wondered, as he pulled up at the large villa that served as headquarters of the Turkish 5th Army, if he'd made the right choice.

He approached the duty officer, presented his orders and was told to wait in the hall. He had no idea what kind of reception he would receive from General Liman von Sanders, the commander of the Turkish 5th Army and the person charged with defending the Dardanelles, but he suspected it would not be warm.

When the Allied fleet did not return it was obvious to Breitner that they would force a landing and he asked to be relocated to the peninsula. The area commander had readily agreed, happy to be rid of an ‘observer’ sent by Enver Pasha and sent him onto the headquarters of one of Enver’s greatest political enemies.

'Would you care for some schnapps?' Breitner was roused from his thoughts by a strikingly handsome artillery officer, holding out a hip flask.

'No, thank you.’ Breitner tried to sound gracious.

‘Are you sure? You look like you need one,’ the officer persisted.

'Quite sure, thank you. I’m going to need my wits about me.’

‘I suspect I will too, but whatever happens, happens.’ He held out his hand. 'Sorry, Kurt Wirbelauer.'

‘Laszlo Breitner.’ They shook hands and something triggered in Breitner’s memory, ‘You’re with a howitzer battery?’

‘I had that honour.’ Kurt held up his flask in salute.

‘You wouldn't be acquainted with Captain Adolphus Brauer?’ Breitner asked.

‘Yes, of course, Dolly is my very good friend. You know him?’ Kurt answered, turning his intense blue eyes on Breitner, demanding news.

‘I was with him on the 18th March, when the Allies last attempted to force the Dardanelles. He was concerned about you and I’m sure will be glad to know you are well.’

‘And I him. You mean to tell me that the Royal Navy actually managed to miss him?’ Kurt grinned happily.

‘Dolly was in one piece and very drunk the last time I saw him. He threw me quite a leaving party.’

‘Good old Dolly.’ Kurt took a large swig from his flask.

The sound of clicking heels echoed down the hall. ‘Lieutenant Wirbelauer, drunk in the afternoon. Will your disgraceful behaviour never end?’

Breitner turned to see Captain Stolz striding towards them. Kurt’s good cheer vanished.

'Stolz I thought I’d see you in this cushy little number.’

‘You will need to smarten up your ideas where you are going, Lieutenant,’ Stolz said, looming over them.

‘Why do you think I’m getting drunk?’ Kurt replied, sounding more resigned to his fate than defiant.

‘You’re a disgrace to the German Army,’ Stolz bellowed. Kurt ignored him and continued to drink from his flask.

Stolz lifted his hand up to knock the flask away from Kurt, but caught the look in Kurt’s eye, thought better of it and instead handed him a sheet of paper. ‘You’re being posted to Cape Helles.’

Kurt stood and took the paper. ‘What about my men?’

‘They no longer require you. The Turks are fully trained and excellent gunners.’ Stolz smiled. ‘You will now act as a messenger, carrying dispatches.’

Breitner watched Stolz. He was obviously hoping Kurt would protest such a menial posting, but Kurt did not give him the satisfaction. ‘I will go wherever it is seen fit to send me.’ He shook Breitner’s hand and turned back to Stolz. ‘I will serve as a frontline soldier, be that as a messenger or a gunner, but I will not serve as a headquarters lickspittle.’

Kurt walked away as Stolz flushed and fought to keep himself under control, then turned to Breitner.

'Major Breitner. Captain Sigmund Stolz, I am on General Liman von Sanders staff.’

‘Yes we have met, you were kind enough to assist me with the Austrian Ambassador’s “Great Champagne Scandal”,’ Breitner said dryly.

‘Ah, yes of course, you must