Adventures on the Border Between Europe and Asia
officers of the British armoured car section in Russia
two pages pf photos from 'the War Illustrated'
Readers of the WAR ILLUSTRATED will recall the graphic Pictorial record of the adventures of the British Armoured-Car -Section through the While Sea to the Caucasus given in these pages a few weeks ago. To this we are now able to add the following thrilling and entertaining story, which is extracted from a breezy letter written to his parents by a Petty-Officer who served with the Section.
We have had some stirring and exciting times since we first landed in Russia, and we have had our funny periods as well. When we first arrived in the country, after making a passage across the dreary wastes of the northland, through fog and ice and snow, we made our way to Petrograd, where the Russians gave us an excellent welcome.
We hadn't got used to the new name of the city at first, and sometimes folks would overhear us when we said the words 'St. Petersburg" and glare fiercely at us. As soon as they recognised we were British, however, they would smile forgivingly, and offer us their queer brown cigarettes ; and when at last we started out on our several voyages, some to the west, where they were to work on the frontiers against the Austro-German armies, and our column to the south, en route for Asia Minor and the Caucasus, the whole population turned out to give us a send-off, and fairly pelted us with flowers as a token of their goodwill.
Off for the Far Wilds
We had a fairly decent journey South, as we used the main roads, and, wherever possible, the Trans-Siberian Railway. We did the last part of our trip southward on this line, and eventually reached the place which. was to form our operating base. At least, they called it our base, but we have only seen it once since we arrived here, and that was when we first struck it.
When we got our sailing orders we found that the place we were bound for (I can't give you names, or the Censor will strike them out) was between three and four hundred miles from civilisation, and that the roads we had to use were mere bullock tracks. You will, of course, understand that we had to carry all our own equipment - bedding, ammunition, provisions, and petrol - in. the cars, as well as the crews and the guns. Each car, fully loaded and armoured, weighed just over twenty tons when ready for the road, and you can well imagine that we fairly swallowed motor spirit with this displacement.
Things went fairly well until we struck the mountain slope, and then our troubles really began. In some places the gradients were so stiff that the cars, fully loaded, couldn't climb them. So we had to do a bit of field-gun drill under difficulties.
Struggling Over Mountain Slopes
We got out our drag-ropes, started up the engines at full speed on the low gear, and hauled away. But the wheels just slipped round and round uselessly on the bad ground, and we had to give that up. Our next stratagem was to rig up a tackle with five pulley blocks and a hundred fathoms of rope. We hooked one end of this to a small boat's anchor we carried on each machine, and the other end to the front of the car's bonnet.
Then the engine was started again, and while she dug out we played tug-o'-war. and finally managed to get the car up to the mudhook-a matter of about fifty yards. As this experiment provided a means of progression, we decided to stick to it, though it was very slow, very tedious, and very laborious. But we didn't care for that; we were going ahead, as per instructions.
Well, we managed to reach the top all right, after a full week of this sort of thing, and then came the trouble of getting the cars down the other side again. We put on the drag-shoes and screwed the brakes right hard home, but when we started to case the cars down the wheels locked, and the tyres showed signs of' wearing out. We couldn't afford that, so we had to rig the anchor and tackle again. though this time it was only easing the rope, and not hauling. Every time we got the tackle out to its full extent we locked the wheels, shifted the mudhook, and carried on again.
Well, we reached the valley in time, and immediately secured all gear aboard and set off for the enemy. There wasn't a road at all, and we jumped from rock to rock like blessed grasshoppers. And the rocks got their own back on us. Now and then a car would catch the base plates of her tanks against the rocks, and they would be ripped out. Of course, all her oil would run right out, and we'd have a dry-dock job on hand, thus hanging up the column for at least a couple of hours. At first we used solder and sheet copper, but our supplies of these soon ran out, and it looked as though we should have to abandon one or two of the damaged cars.
One chap, however, thought out an ingenious patching device. He got a shaving-stick, and worked the soap into a thick, solid paste; then he hammered the torn plates till the ragged edges were level, and caulked the tear with his shaving soap. It made an oil-tight joint, and couldn't fall out through jerks. for to make things quite certain, he strapped it into place with sticking-plaster. And that was the kind of thing we had to do for several days.
Shaving Soap and Bullets
And then, one day, twelve cars in succession got their tanks pierced, and not one of them, thanks to this device, was delayed more than two hours at the outside. But this sudden call upon our repairing-shop equipment ran us clean out of shaving soap.
Of course, as soon as this was discovered our crankiest car had to run into a peculiarly jagged bit of the world's crust, and rip her base plates all. along their full length. It was the worst tear we had ever experienced, and We had to invent some means of stopping the leaks.
The driver of the damaged car took half a dozen leaden bullets and melted them on a Primus oil-stove. And while the bullets were running down he took a pattern of the hole, and made a place in the mud for the moulding. The lead was run into this, placed in position in the jagged rent, and then hammered till the holes were all filled up. We replaced the soap and plaster mendings gradually by this means,
Our next adventure was the crossing of a river, and this took us two whole days, the men working in their birthday suits all the time. We didn't mind being naked, except for one thing, and that was flies. They seemed to think our sunbaked skin a special delicacy provided for them, and where the skin began to peel they clustered in hundreds. If we hadn't been compelled to brush these pests off we could have got through that infernal river in half the time we eventually took.
Capture of the Village of Norshen
We were just entering the Mush region, and getting into touch with the left flank of the Turkish forces. There was a small village named Norshen directly ahead of us, and the enemy held this position in force. As we wished to get them on the ran there was nothing for it but to advance the column and attack..
They received us with volleys of rifle fire and a few Maxim guns, but the armoured cars turned the bullets off as if they were paper pellets. The couple of light unarmoured touring cars belonging to the column we sent to the rear out of the way, and, each unit working independently in the attack, crunched down on the lines held by the enemy.
Turkish Magazine Blown Up
My car waddled up the narrow main street, under fire from all the houses on each side, the Turks especially seeming to prefer the upper-storey windows. Our machine-guns were rattling off at a great rate, and if it hadn't been so serious a time, we might have laughed at the haste with which the enemy vacated those houses after they had a decent spraying with our bullets.
Soon we'd cleared the village, and came in sight of the Turkish base, well hidden behind a ridge a little way out of the place. The ridge which had served them as a screen we used as a base of operations, and brought the field-guns mounted on he cars into action. We shelled the Turks well out of this position, and one lucky shell dropped into their magazine. There was an explosion that shook the very earth, and caused great clouds of dust, and when these cleared away the Turks and Kurds were scooting off as fast as their legs would carry them. We gave them a few hundred rounds. from the machine-guns to help them along a bit, and then ceased fire and camped for the night on the captured ground.
The Commander Ambushed
A couple of days later the commander was out, with a seaman-chauffeur, on a scouting expedition. He had one of the light, unarmoured touring cars, when he fell into an ambuscade the Turks and Kurds had prepared with the object of preventing our getting through. The light car was skirting the foot of a hill along the best road we had seen for weeks, when it suddenly came under a murderous rifle fire. This was kept up for several miles, and all the time the bullets were piercing holes in our car and its body. The driver got one bullet through the fleshy part of his thigh, but it made no apparent difference to him as he still kept on.
There was nothing at all to be done except keep straight on at full speed, and as there are no speed limits on war service, he just did that. And then, to make things worse, at the end of the road came a wide river. All that could be done was to charge this river, and trust to luck to get through. And so, with the enemy's firing kicking up spurts of water all round, the driver took the car through without hurt. He never lost his head for a second and has since been mentioned in despatches for his plucky work.
We advanced towards - where the Turks had established a fresh camp, and they retreated before us. We determined to press our advantage, as all the time we were driving them towards the Russian forces, and expected to get into touch with the latter every day.
And then one morning we captured a Kurd, who told us that we were going to be wiped out, and from the way he said it we gathered that the desperate Turks and Kurds we had been chasing were about to attack us. Simultaneously with this news we discovered that we had almost completely run out of petrol, and only had enough to send one of the unarmoured cars back with. We were in camp right opposite the Turkish lines, with their attack brewing, and couldn't have advanced or retreated if we had wanted to do so.
Things couldn't have been much worse so we decided to try an immense bluff. We went round the whole of the petrol tanks in the squadron, and collected what spirit there was. This we gave to our best car, which we then sent out, with a double whack, of gun and Maxim ammunition quite openly. We wanted to make the Turks believe that it was searching for them, and we also hoped that they would get the idea the Russians had joined up with us, and were in force.
To supplement this we all took rifles and advanced in skirmishing order, well under cover, firing at long range. For two days we kept this bluff up, never allowing the enemy to discover that we were short of material and fuel, and at long last, just as the ruse was wearing thin and the Turks were massing for their real attack they would have completely wiped us out - the light car came back, packed to its full capacity with motor spirit in cans. If it had been rum for all hands, and peace time to drink it in, the cheer that greeted that car couldn't have been louder.
Successful Bluff by the Squadron
We filled up all round, whacked the spare stuff among us, and sailed into the masses of Turks and Kurds. They never got time to realise the huge bluff we had pulled off so successfully; they simply stood their ground for about half an hour. Then, finding out once more that our armour was too thick for their bullets to penetrate, and that our fire was as deadly as ever, they broke and ran.
We occasionally ran short of fresh water, and as most of the rivers were polluted - you never knew when a dead body was likely to come floating downstream - we often had to make tea with water drawn from the car radiators. When we ran short of fresh meat we'd have an occasional midnight foray into the enemy's country, and "borrow" a few head of cattle, which we shot in the camp, and thus obtained stringy and exceedingly tough steaks.
Now and then we exploded dynamite cartridges in a river and the dead fish floated to the top in shoals, making a welcome change in the menu. We had only two things to grumble about - the flies in the heat of the day and the bitter coldness of the nights.
We lost one petty-officer at a place called Kavkas - don't try to pronounce it - through ptomaine poisoning, caused by a defective tin of corned beef, and the natives of the town have ever since kept his grave covered with the most beautiful fresh flowers, as a mark of the high esteem in which they hold the “land sailors," as they call us.
Imperial Rewards for Service
We are back again now for a short. rest, and the Tsar has been giving decorations away. Two of our officers have got the Vladimir order for meritorious service and bravery in battle, and two petty-officers have got the Medal of St. George for the same thing. I suppose we shall all get some kind of decoration for this job, and there will be no doubt but that we have earned it..
We're waiting for winter clothing, when we shall transform ourselves into Arctic explorers, for we understand that a winter in the Caucasus is not anything to be fought back with a blue jersey and a monkey coat. Anyway, we've had a splendid time, and enjoyed fairly good health - we've been too busy to he ill and are looking forward to paying off a few scores with Johnny Turk before we see dear old England - and the real ships once more.
* see also Armoured Cars on the Eastern Front : the Belgian Expeditionary Force in Russia
an illustration showing an engagement in the Caucasus
