Salonica - Scenes of War

Part 3

The low coast-line had the soft air of some Hampshire countryside by the fringes of the Solent; the clouds soared upwards from the serried mountains in great castles of opal and blue. Upon the foreland of Little Kara Bournu spread the tents of a British encampment. I had last looked upon them in the Sinai desert.

A mist lay over Salonica through which there were faintly visible houses and trees and battlements, the walls as of some old fortress, climbing the downs ; while the dark hulks of ships lay brooding in the foreground. It was such a picture, with its diaphanous mists, its touches of blue and green and white, as Turner would have painted.

Slowly we turned to enter this magic place, the crinkled sea interspersed with spaces of silk-like calm. I climbed for a better view to the bridge, where the Captain stood with his megaphone, and there grew up before my eyes a scene of entrancing interest and beauty. But a hundred yards ahead there moved slowly, with a gliding, sinuous motion, a torpedo-boat, and we followed her every movement with a faithful compliance through the mines and nets which spread like fishermen's floats across the vast spaces of the harbour. Beyond them lay the battleships and transports, riding securely at peace; and above them rose the mountains and the cloud-enamelled sky.

As we came at last through the intricate maze, and the destroyer which had guided us moved aside with the grace of a python, I heard beside me, where the skipper stood in the stillness, a sigh as from one whose soul was quit of a burden that had lain upon it. And as I turned to look back, there, behind us, came a boat in full sail, with Olympus shining in blue and silver through its rigging, and lifting his stately brow to the heavens.