After living in fear of our lives all the time under the Bolshy occupied regime, it was a relief to get away, though terribly sad for me leaving the town and home of my youth, with all its treasures and happy memories.
We were suddenly warned one day that we must leave that night as the Germans were coming in the morning (which they did, promptly hanging those of the Bolshy leaders left - the others departed with us the previous night. They, the Germans, tidied up the town at once and order reigned once more - much to the relief of the inhabitants!) Well that night we rushed to the station across the big square from our house, narrowly escaping being shot, as the Bolshevik hooligans were having the time of their life, attacking anyone out at night. We were packed into one compartment of the train. The rest were filled with the escaping Bolshies, who at that time looked upon us as friends. All the luggage we were permitted to take was what each individual of us could carry. But the Vice Consul’s wife had to have a trunk ! which was a great handicap to us all along through Russia, nearly losing us our connections, the endless changes at different stoppages often delaying us a day or two at a time. So few decent trains were left, 1st classes destroyed. Often being left without engine, as being requisitioned for trains going to the front with soldiers. In one case we had part of the journey in a cattle truck (into which we had to be lifted). The men had to lie on the floor and we women on shelf construction above them. A quantity of hard boiled eggs was placed by me and inadvertently were knocked over and as they went toppling down, one after another, it made me laugh. Whereupon a highly polite young man facetiously remarked “Hark to the cackling of the hen while laying her eggs!”
Invariably the sudden jolts in the train, caused by those wonderful antique engines, caused sundry accidents. On one occasion the soup we had all contributed out of our tins (provided by Mariopol British seamen who'd joined us). The soup was being heated on a primus stove in the corridor when a sudden jolt sent it cascading all along the passage accompanied by moans and groans of all concerned. In all our party of refugees I was the only one who had thought of taking a basin to wash in! It was actually a small enamel pudding bowl, for preparing pastry in, and I knew would prove invaluable for personal washing guessing, and quite rightly too, that the toilet place would be far from clean. But I hardly envisaged how useful it would be for the others, and men wanting it for shaving and food being warmed in it.
We left Odessa on the 6th March and by these different trains reached Mariopol on the 11th where we stayed until the 25th. The Consul and kind friend having arranged for us and the crew of the British ship which the Bolshies had requisitioned to travel in a 3rd class wagon with sealed notice on it “for British only”, but despite that fact at every small station our armed men had to stand at each end to prevent the frantic crowds trying to get in, some even getting on buffers and roof. Also one end compartment had to be guarded by our men with revolvers against looting by thieves.
We got to Moscow by middle of April. Our main joy was being able to sleep on beds after endless nights on hard 3rd class wooden seats. All better class accommodation on trains was destroyed. From Moscow we provided ourselves with hard crusts and toasted bread which had to last us till we reached Murmansk where we waited about a fortnight before sailing for England (two months from Odessa). The ship’s trip was terrifying but as we had French military on board we were safeguarded by destroyers escorting us, chasing off possible U-boats and running back and forth round us like a couple of excited small dogs! At the ship’s bows there were wing-like wired screens opening out like a fan right and left to catch or intercept any mines etc. As mere civilians we were allotted spaces on a raft in case of being torpedoed. Not much chance in stormy wintry seas! After the stormy crossing of the North Sea we reached Newcastle on May the 5th.
You may wonder why we went so far east (Sea of Azov) instead of going at once north but that had to be owing to the rapidly advancing Germans for whom it was simply a walkover, the Russians having no arms or ammunition at that time to stem the tide of the invader. Odessa for instance was taken without a shot being fired.
I shall never forget the heartbroken expression on the face of the Grand Duke Nicholas (which I saw in a picture) as he was leaving his native land for good. He should have conducted the war. But the weak-minded Tsar would not allow it, had he done so things might have been very different with such a grand leader.
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I forgot to mention that we were fortunate getting a lot of good English food the seamen smuggled off their ship.
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