The Secret War

20

The last black empire

If the irregular row of hangars which constituted the aerodrome at Addis Ababa seemed a toy by comparison with the great Italian base at Assab it certainly did not suffer from lack of personnel,

As the four seater plane came to earth at least three hundred people ran across the open space towards it, Some were in the dirty white shaman of the country and others in khaki uniforms of European design, but nearly all were barefooted.

At first Lovelace would not let Valerie leave the plane because, although many of the uniformed men were driving back the crowd with hippopotamus hide whips, the mob showed a sullen and, at times, vociferous hostility.

A white man arrived on the scene, however, and introduced himself as Henrick Heidenstam; a Swedish pilot in the Emperor's service. He told them that the war with Italy had caused the Abyssinians to develop an intense distrust of all Europeans particularly those who came in planes, on account of the way in which the population had suffered from air raids but that they had no cause to be frightened. It was his duty to meet all arrivals at the airport and he was personally responsible to the Emperor for their safety. He then introduced a bearded, copper coloured man as Ato Habte Worku; a chief of Customs.

Ato Habte Worku demanded fifty thalers landing tax and, while Christopher paid him, sent his apparently numberless assistants to rummage the contents of the plane. Valerie handed over a cardboard box containing the clothes she had worn the previous night and Lovelace another which held their united washing and shaving tackle purchased in Assab. They were charged five thalers on the dress but the rest of their things were 'let in free. When the Customs men returned to report that there was no baggage in the plane, however, there ensued a most excited discussion in Amharic.

Lovelace told Heidenstam that they had been forced to come down in the desert and that robbers had made off with their luggage.

The Swede expressed surprise that they had succeeded n getting away with their lives but Ato Habte Worku was neither sympathetic nor interested. He said that since they had no luggage which he could tax they must gay another fifty thalers landing fee.

Christopher was about to protest at this flagrant injustice but Lovelace nudged him and told him to pay up; knowing that in Abyssinia there was no appeal against such arbitrary decisions on the part of government officials.

The passport officer, a one eyed black, presented as Ato Wolde Rougis, now asked for their papers. He also had numerous assistants, and these, having glanced it the three passports, said that they were not in order.

What was to be done? Having visited Abyssinia Before Lovelace knew the answer and promptly slipped five thalers into Ato Wolde Rougis's hand.

The black official took the bribe but shrugged and shook his head, evidently hoping to obtain a larger sum.

Lovelace knew there was nothing wrong with the passports and considered the tip enough; so he resorted to a trick and produced a document from his note case which he carried for that purpose. It was a piece of thin vellum with Arabic characters inscribed upon it and a red ribbon attached from which dangled a large seal. The seal was actually a tin plaque lauding the virtues

of a brand of Turkish cigarettes but the characters on it looked not unlike those on the vellum, which he had written himself.

`This,' he said solemnly, 'is the sealed warrant of Ibn' Saud, King of Arabia. The possession of it placed myself and my friends above all suspicion. We are people of considerable importance.'

With a far more respectful expression on his face Ato Wolde Rougis took the piece of vellum and pretended to read the characters, although it was obvious that he did not understand them. It was the red ribbon and the fine, tin seal which impressed his native mind and made him feel that it might be dangerous to blackmail such people in case, later, they did him some injury.

After a moment he said: `Why did you not show me this at once? It is all in order. I will not delay you further.' But he did not offer to give back the money he had taken.

A third man now appeared. They did not catch his name but noticed that he did not rejoice in the title of Ato, or Mr. He had the plane run into a hangar and had to be given ten thalers for his trouble. Then, it seemed, they were free to leave the aerodrome.

Henrick Heidenstam took them over to a rickety car with a black chauffeur and, while the airport police kept back the sullen looking mob, they drove off.

Three minutes later the car stopped outside a petrol station. Heidenstam smiled ruefully.

`I'm awfully sorry,' he said. 'This fellow's evidently run out of juice and you'll have to buy some if you want to go any further. This is a government car, you see, and one of their methods of getting petrol is to play this game on , strangers. I'd buy some myself but I haven't been paid for months so I'm pretty hard up at the moment.'

'Please don't worry it's not your show.' Christopher assured the Swede; but the man at the petrol station refused to supply him with less than a tonika of four and a half gallons which cost another thirteen thalers, roughly one pound, and he was angered by this further imposition,

'What a racket,' he exclaimed as they drove on. 'Is all Addis Ababa as full of grafters as that airport?'

Heidenstam shrugged philosophically. `I'm afraid you'll find it so. Abyssinia's a lousy country. With the exception of the Emperor, who is a really wonderful little man, and about a dozen of his Europeanized helpers, there's hardly a native in the place one can respect. They have all the cunning and the greed of oriental’s but none of the Arabs' love of colour and gaiety and good living. It may be their particular brand of Christianity that gets them down. I don't know; anyhow all they seem to get from it is their morbid killjoy ways. It doesn't prevent them getting drunk or being unbelievably cruel and vicious. They're lazy too lazy as hogs. You can never get anything done unless you go to the Emperor. Even the highest government officials constantly put you off with Ishe naga which means, “all right, but tomorrow,” or actually, “come next week and I'll put you off again,” '

They were driving through well wooded country with fields, rough gardens, and white, one storied buildings dotted here and there between the patches of blue gum trees.

`When shall we reach the city?' Valerie asked.

'We're in it now,' Heidenstam replied. 'Addis Ababa is a young town. It was started only fifty years ago because the wife of the old Emperor Menelik came and built a palace here. The Emperor followed her and it has grown until its 130,000 inhabitants have spread out over as big an area as Paris.'

The white walled, zinc roofed houses became a little more frequent as they entered the European quarter. They pulled up outside a big building on a hill and Heidenstam said: 'This is the Hotel Imperial. There are others, but it's supposed to be the best, and you'll not

be uncomfortable here. Also, you will be quite safe, so I shall leave you now. One of the Emperor's people will visit you this afternoon and tell you what you may or may not do during your stay. Haile Salassie is most anxious that all Europeans should be protected from any unpleasantness and, even though he's at the front now, his partisans continue to superintend visitors' arrangements personally in his absence.'

They thanked the Swedish airman, who drove away with a cheerful wave of his hand. Lovelace then interviewed the Greek hotel proprietor. The results were far more satisfactory than they had hoped. Three good bedrooms, each with a private bath, were placed at their disposal, and it was promised that a sitting room on the first floor should be reserved for their exclusive use.

Having viewed the rooms and parked their few belongings, they came downstairs again. Now that the excitement of their flight was over they felt chilly and depressed. Although it was still only mid morning, a drink seemed the obvious remedy.

A square faced, grey mustached man and a red headed youth were the only occupants of the bar. After ordering drinks Lovelace got into conversation with them. The elder was a Dutchman representing a firm of coffee merchants; the younger a Belgian adventurer who had come out hoping to secure a command in the Abyssinian Army when the regular officers loaned by his Government were officially recalled on the outbreak of war. As he possessed exceptional linguistic attainments, he had managed to get a job as interpreter at the Consular Court where justice was dispensed among alien nationals.

They soon informed the newcomers why it had been so easy to secure accommodation. From September to Christmas the hotel had been crammed from basement to attic with foreign correspondents, armament men and every sort of shady white who hoped for good fishing in the troubled waters. But the armament people could not find anyone with the cash to buy their goods the Press men discovered that even the Abyssinian War Office knew nothing of what was going on at the front, and the job seekers had found the inborn suspicion of the Abyssinians concerning the honesty of all whites too deeply rooted to be overcome. After three or four months of wasted time and money the editors had recalled their journalists, the munition pedlars had packed their samples, and the funds of most of the others had run out. The place was now two thirds empty.

When Valerie remarked how surprising it was to find that every room in the hotel had a bath, they both laughed.

`It happens to be built next to a hot spring,' the Belgian said. `It's the only place in Addis of it's kind. Even the people in the legations come here for a bath once or twice a week. But the food is filthy and the prices extortionate. You would do better at the Deutsches Haas.'

Christopher asked if they had run across an elderly Armenian named Paxito Zirrif, during the last fortnight, but they shook their heads. Neither of them had even heard of him.

Lovelace inquired their opinion of the outcome of the war. They both began to talk at once, but the Belgian was more fluent and won the day. `In less than a week the rains will come. The Italians will be bogged; their communications will be cut, their leading troops will be massacred piecemeal and there will be a stalemate for six months. After that they will advance again, but the Emperor will have had time to reorganize his forces and secure fresh supplies of munitions. The Abyssinians all believe that the League will intervene before then, though, and that Britain will come in on their side. Anyhow, my job's safe for another year, at least.'

'How about air raids? Aren't the Italians making things pretty unpleasant here?'

The young man shook his fiery red head. `There was a great scare at first, but the Italian planes never seem to do much except reconnoitre. They bombed Harar and Dessye some time back, but only as a sort of demonstration, I imagine. They killed a few civilians, but they didn't do much damage. All sorts of nonsense has been written in the Press about their deliberate destruction of hospitals, and so on. That has occurred in isolated cases, but it's not deliberate. The Red Cross used to be the sign of a brothel in Abyssinia. It still is outside the principal towns. Directly the blacks learned that Europeans regarded it as immune from attack, they painted it on everything. You'll see thousands of red crosses plastered all over Addis.'

Valerie shivered in her light, tropical clothes. Lovelace noticed it and said: `We need some more suitable kit. There's plenty of time before lunch. We'd better go out and buy it.'

'Mohamedally,' said the Dutchman. `That is the place for you to go. Anyone will tell you where to find it. The store is the only one worth while in Addis, and they have branches all over the country.'

Leaving their new friends lolling in the bar, as though time had no significance, they set off on foot to do their shopping.

It was a bright, sunny day, but the temperature seemed almost arctic after the stifling heat of Assab and Jibuti. As they trudged up the steep gradients they found themselves not only cold but oppressed and breathless.

`We should have taken a taxi,' Lovelace said. `I'd forgotten that Europeans never walk more than a few hundred yards here. This place is 8,000 feet above sea level, and that means a big strain on the heart.'

They found Addis Ababa, or rather the small scattered European quarter, to be a place of staggering contrasts. Three storey, stone blocks rose, here and there, among a jumble of tin roofed, brick bungalows and mud walled huts thatched with straw. In the irregular pen space that formed its centre delicatessen shops were selling luxury tinned foods, such as caviare and aparagus, imported from Europe, while before their doorsteps native women squatted, displaying for sale mouldy looking fruit and vegetables, miserable little heaps of parched corn, and handfuls of red peppers. There were two cinemas, two indifferent looking cafes, the Perroquet and the La Secret. Khaki clad, White topee’d policemen at the junctions of the roads were laying about them with heavy, hippopotamus hide whips the only method, apparently, of driving the pedestrian population out of the way of the traffic, ,which was mostly composed of smart taxis driven with reckless speed by fuzzy headed Abyssinians. Mohamedally's store provided them with most of their requirements, all at fantastically expensive prices, at Christopher paid without a murmur. He was too cold and too worried about the necessity of finding Zarrif, now that they were at last in Addis, to argue. He questioned the turbaned Indian who attended to them, and the policemen in the streets, without result. Lovelace took him by the elbow.

`Look here,' he said, `you lost the ether pistol with 'which you meant to kill him when we were taken by the Danakils. We'll have to use ordinary automatics, and 'we must get another brace of those before we can do anything; even if we can find out where he's got to.' Christopher agreed, and they walked over to an oil shop which displayed for sale a most extraordinary collection of weapons : scimitars that had possibly been used to lop off the limbs of Crusaders; poisoned spears such as the Mahdi carried when they surrounded general Gordon in Khartoum; ancient arquebuses which had been new when Cardinal Richelieu was besieging La Rochelle; long barrelled, beautifully inlaid pieces from Arabia; wide mouthed blunderbusses for firing handfuls of old nails; tenth hand rifles made for a dozen wars of the last century, and, quite incongruously among these museum exhibits, a few modern automatics.

For a quarter of an hour they stood examining the goods among drums of paint and turpentine. Lovelace came away with a heavy, blue barrelled Mouser, Christopher with an ultra modern, snub nosed, American automatic, Valerie with a small but handy Browning, and each had acquired as much ammunition for their weapons as they could carry without inconvenience.

Heavy fatigue still upon them, they carried their numerous parcels to a taxi and drove back to the hotel, where they changed into their new, ill fitting, but warmer clothes.

At lunch they were given mutton, and Valerie commented upon it, as she had hardly tasted meat since they left Alexandria.

'I am glad that Madam is pleased,' said the Eurasian head waiter brightly. `We have mutton every day.'

'And nothing else,' added Lovelace bitterly. 'I remember that when I stayed in Addis for the Emperor's coronation.'

They had coffee upstairs in their private sitting room. Christopher returned at once to the necessity for finding Zirrif.

'Well, we're here at last,' he said. 'But d'you realise it's the 28th? We've only got two clear days left to work in. We've got to act quickly now or it'll be too late. Somehow we've got to run Zirrif to earth and fix him once for all. If we don't, the concession will go through, and you both know what that means.'

`How about trying the United States Legation?' Lovelace suggested thoughtfully. `They must have a big staff here, and somebody there may be able to put us on to him.'

'Splendid!' Christopher's dark eyes lit up with their old fanatic gleam. He turned to the door, `I'll go down and call them up now,'

It was a long time before Christopher returned. He as breathless and paler than ever from having run upstairs, but his handsome face was alight with excitement.

`We're in luck,' he panted. 'Rudy Connolly is one f the secretaries at the Legation. He's a friend of line. He’s asked us out there to dine this evening. In the meantime he'll pump all his colleagues for us. One of them is certain to know where Zarrif’s staying. Men like that can't hide themselves in a small place like this.'

Sitting down, he put his hand up to his heavily pounding heart, and went on jerkily : `Gad ! the telephone service here you'd never believe it. They call the operator by name and have to ask after the health of his wife and family before he'll even consent to give you the first wrong number.'

Lovelace grinned. `I know. It's a ragtime country, isn't it? If I were you, though, I'd take it easy. The height here plays the very devil with Europeans. Don't exert yourself more than you absolutely have to, and do everything you've got to do as slowly as you can. If you're feeling dicky, why not have a lie down on your 'bed?'

`Good idea,' Christopher panted, but at that moment a house boy arrived to announce that Blatta Ingida Yohannes, a representative of the Emperor, was below and wished to see them.

`Ask him to come up,' Lovelace said at once. Then: explained to the others that Blatta meant `wise' and as a civil title ranking one higher than Ato. It could taken as Esquire; the next rank above it being Kantiba, or Knight.

The Abyssinian proved to be a pleasant young man dressed in European clothes. His hair was oiled back, his face clean shaven, and he spoke French with an easy fluency.

His first request was rather surprising: he asked for news of the war; but he explained that communications with the fronts were so difficult that even the Emperor usually learnt of fresh movements, when he was in Addis Ababa, through reports brought in from the outside world by neutrals before he heard of them before from his own commanders.

'We heard the Italians had opened a big attack at Sasa Baneh this morning,' Lovelace informed him.

Blatta Ingida Yohannes smiled. 'There they will break themselves against our “Hindenburg line”, Many lion pits have been dug to trap their tanks. When these have fallen through the thin, earth covered layers of sticks into the holes Ras Nasibu's men will overwhelm their infantry and wipe it out. What do they say in Jibuti of the fighting on our northern front

'We've heard nothing of that since they captured Dessye close on a fortnight ago.'

The young coloured man shrugged his shoulders, `So that silly rumour still persists. We had it here ten days back, but it is false, of course just one of the many propaganda lies that the Italians send out over their powerful wireless to try and hearten their troops in other sectors. You see, it is quite impossible, because the Emperor is still at Dessye.'

Lovelace forebore to contradict him, although he had seen the Italians occupying the town itself from Count Dolomenchi's plane. He feared that the officials in Addis might become suspicious and troublesome if they knew their visitors had just spent some time as guests of the enemy. Spy mania was running high. Their movements might be restricted and the aeroplane seized, It was safer to allow it to be believed that they had come straight from Jibuti. 'You feel that the war's going well for you, then?' he asked.

'It is difficult to say,' the Abyssinian replied. We know so little only that it is certain we shall win in the end. The Italian casualties are far higher than they say, since we contest every inch of the ground, and every one of our soldiers is a crack marksman. Each night we raid their lines, too. They hate that. It is shaking their morale even worse than their air raids are shaking the morale of our people. Every mile they penetrate, too, lengthens their lines of communication and makes them more vulnerable. Sooner or later they must collapse. It will happen quite suddenly one night. Then we will chase them out of our country. You will see.'

`They won't collapse as long as they keep on sending out adequate reinforcements,' Christopher said, 'because you cannot possibly hope to beat them in a pitched battle owing to their complete supremacy in the air.'

`No.' The young Abyssinian gave him a sly glance. `You are right, perhaps, as long as the fighting is on the low levels with only an isolated mountain to be captured here and there; but wait until they reach the high ground. European airmen cannot fly day after day at fifteen thousand feet. Their hearts will give out in the rarefied atmosphere and they will be crashing all over the place. That is why they so seldom attempt an air raid here. White people cannot even walk here in Addis without their hearts giving them trouble.'

They knew that he was right. Every step they had taken since they arrived in the Abyssinian capital had seemed to cost them a special effort.

'You feel very confident of victory, then?' Valerie said.

'How can you doubt it when everybody knows that the British are coming to our assistance?'

`If they did it would mean another World War,' Christopher said quickly.

'About that I do not know, but our situation is obvious. A few years ago the Emperor might have been willing to compromise with his powerful neighbour rather than risk a war which must mean much misery for his people, whichever side was victorious. Since that time Abyssinia has been admitted to the League. What is the League for if not to protect small nations from aggression? Naturally, after that the Emperor would not consider any form of compromise. He knew that he could rely upon the League to maintain him in his just rights. The machinery at Geneva works slowly. We understand that; and we are perfectly willing to defend ourselves while Britain makes her preparations. But as the champion of the League she is bound to intervene on our behalf before very much longer. Many squadrons of her aeroplanes are already in Egypt waiting for the word to attack.'

Valerie sighed. The whole world knew now that the League was a broken reed to lean upon, yet this man's faith in it was apparently unshakable and quite pathetic.

More coffee and liqueurs were sent for. Lovelace took advantage of the interruption to get Blatta Ingida Yohannes off the thorny subject of the League, and asked him about the Emperor.

The young man was one of the Jeunesse d' Ethiopie; the society of progressive Abyssinians. He spoke with real enthusiasm of the Emperor's reforms, and sadly of how the westernization of his country was being held up now for lack of funds because the Emperor was being compelled to spend every penny of his money on munitions for this wicked war that had been forced upon them.

Believing them to be ordinary tourists, he expressed great anxiety that they should see everything before they went away and leave with a good opinion of Abyssinia. He said that the Emperor received all visiting Europeans personally when he was in the capital, but in the Emperor's absence it was his duty to entertain them. To start with, he proposed a drive round the town that afternoon and that he should call for them again after dinner to take them to the cinema.

Christopher's face showed his anxiety lest their self appointed guide would seriously embarrass their movements; but Valerie leaped into the breach by saying that they were all tired after their journey and feeling the effect of the high altitude; for the remainder of the afternoon they would prefer to rest. The evening was already disposed of by their arrangement to dine at the American Legation.

Blatta Ingida Yohannes accepted the situation, but insisted that he should call for them first thing on the following morning. He would take them to see the French and English schools where the children of the Abyssinian aristocracy were being educated on modern lines. In the meantime he would see about securing suitable personal servants for them, to look after them during their stay, and attach a special police guard to them in case they wished to walk in the town; but he begged that they would confine themselves to the European quarter.

The moment he had gone Christopher gave a despairing groan. `What with servants, and police guards, and that fellow hanging round us all the time, we'll never succeed in getting at Zirrif even if we can find him.'

'We'll manage somehow,' Lovelace said grimly. `These people have plenty of low cunning, but we whites have far better brains. It's not difficult to trick them, and I've been thinking, if we can't trace Zirrif through the American Legation we'll probably be able to get a line on him through his friend Ras Desoum.

You go off and have your rest now; you're looking rotten.'

'Yes, I feel it too. See you later, then.'

As Christopher left the room Valerie looked across at Lovelace, 'So we're off on this murder game again, it seems.'

Lovelace gave her a quick glance and began to fiddle with a new pipe he had bought. 'When Zirrif shot down your plane in the Danakil country he did it with the deliberate intention of murdering us all, so, quite apart from the fact that the Millers of God have ordered his execution, to my mind he deserves all we mean to give him.'

`Yes yes,' she nodded wearily. `I know.'

He stroked his small, upturned moustache and went on slowly: `You're not quite so keen now on this Crusade as you used to term Christopher's mission are you? It's a grim business and I've wished all along you were safely out of it. Listen, Valerie. Why not fly back to Jibuti this evening. We'll beg, borrow, or steal some reliable chap from one of the Legations to go with you.'

She shook her head. `No. I can't leave Christopher or you. When I think of my darling Count Dolomenchi and that nice young Abyssinian who was here just now, too, I am more certain than ever that anyone like Zirrif, who deliberately pulls the wires to make them wish to cut each other's throats, deserves death a hundred times. I'm just tired that's all. When I've rested for a bit I'll feel better.'

He realised that her affectionate mention of the Count implied no more than friendship, but all the same, a she made it, Lovelace was conscious of a little twinge of jealousy. She stood up and, as he watched her leave the room, he checked his thoughts sharply. He knew he had no right to think of her that way at all. She was Christopher's. Yet he wished, as he had never wished for anything in his life before, that she were free so that he could tell her how much he loved her.

That evening a car with two special guards picked them up and ran them out to the United States Legation. It was some way from the centre of the town and, like those of the other nations, stood in a fine, walled, private park on land which the Emperor had generously presented for the purpose.

Rudy Connolly received them with shouts of joy and introduced them to his colleagues. For Christopher and Valerie it was grand to find themselves among their own people again, and Lovelace was made equally welcome. It would have been a thoroughly delightful evening if each of them had not had to act a part and endeavour to conceal their secret anxieties.

They posed as tourists who, being in Egypt, had just flown up for a few days out of curiosity, to see Addis now that it played such a prominent part in the world's news.

When Christopher cornered Connolly after dinner, the diplomat said that, of course, he knew Paxito Zirrif by reputation, but he had heard nothing of his being in Addis. So far, inquiries among his friends had proved fruitless, but native spies had been put on the job and perhaps some information might come in the following day.

Connolly showed some professional reticence in speaking about the war. He admitted to knowing that the Italians were actually in Dessye, although the Abyssinians refused to acknowledge it; and said that as far as their own information went, the Emperor was with his troops somewhere between Addis and his old headquarters. Fresh levies were still moving through from the far west to his support, and it was thought that he would hold up the Italians at a point where the road dipped suddenly from the terrific heights of the Abyssinian central ranges to the fringe of the plains bordering the Danakil country.

`Are there any landing places for aeroplanes on the Dessye road?' Christopher asked.

Connolly stared at him in surprise. `Good Lord, no! but why?'

`I'd like to go there. See a little of the fighting.`

`I wouldn't try it if I were you. They won't let you, anyway, without a pass, and I don't think they'd grant you one for a second. The front's somewhere out there now, and they wouldn't even let a single newspaper man go within a hundred miles of the actual operations.'

`Never mind. Say I could get a pass,' Christopher went on doggedly. `How long would it take me to get there by road?'

'You could reach Dessye itself, if the road were open all the way, in about three days. That is, if the weather remains as it is at the moment, and given a good stout lorry with plenty of hired men to pull it out of the gulley’s whenever it gets stuck. If the weather breaks, as it may now at any time, you might be ten days on the road, and once the rains have really set in it becomes quite impassable. Honestly, you'd be mad to attempt it. Even if you could get a pass and managed to get to the front all right, as the rains are due, you'd be caught there and unable to get back.'

`Thanks,' said Christopher. `I was only asking out of curiosity,' and he turned the conversation into other channels.

When they were back in the hotel Christopher faced the others just as they were sitting down to a night cap in their private room.

'Look here. I've thought it all out. Nobody but the Emperor can sign that concession, and he's still at the front; somewhere down the Dessye road. Zirrif must be with him at his new headquarters or on his way there. These Abyssinian officials are bribable, you say. Well, I don't care what it costs, but we've got to get a pass and reach the Emperor so that we're on hand to deal with Zirrif when he tries to do his stuff.'

`But we can't use the plane for that,' exclaimed Lovelace, `and to talk of covering a hundred miles of this ghastly country in two days any other way is sheer madness.'

I don't care,' Christopher said tersely. 'I'll buy a dozen lorries and leave each one as it gets stuck for another of the convoy, offering a big reward to the driver who gets through first. It's got to be done'