SCENES AT ADRIANOPLE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 10680, 29 January 1913, Page 7

SCENES AT ADRIANOPLE.

A PHOTOGRAPHER'S PERILS. Mr Bennet Burleigh in a letter to the London " Daily Telegraph». describes the adventures of a taris photographer in the neighbourhood of Adrianople. Ho says:— When I was preparing to quit Mustafa Pasha last Tuesday night, M. Maurice Branger, the iaris photographer, called. He had just returned from' a trip that had occupied him nine days, towards Semenli near one of the Bulgarian division s headquarters, beyond the River Araa. I had been invited by the .samo trieiid, but declined, as the* time during which I should have had to sever myself from tlio telegraph wire would have been too long. •' WITH THE INVESTING ARMY. However, M. Branger, with much courage, set out by himself to rougn it' \ for a week with tho troops in the investing lines south of Adrianopl.eLoading his pony with a week's food, his blanket and materials, he set out on the afternoon of December 2 to make the journey afoot. The roads were'in a frightful state, but provided with the official military pass be proceeded along the so-called turnpike, which runs by the left bank of tho Maritsa from Mustafa Pasha. Stepping out with Gallic lightheadedness, humming an "air, and not caring whether he got his next warm meal near or far onward, ho stoutly inarched off, after" I bade him ban voyage. This is his story to me of his "experiences in the toils of war, as detailed in repeated conversations since his return and on our journey in company to Sofia.. "I got or all right-, tho pony moving quite f r st, until we got to tho pontoon war bridge near Marash. It was hot photographer's weather. It was 6 p.m.'and dark when the sentry challenged me jvt the bridge. I replied that I was a French correspondent, and then I allowed to < approach and show my papers. The'sentry then let me pass over, ' and bade me turn to the right upon the'other side of the Maritza, and make my way to , Kadekeui railway station to spend the night. Bub I must have lost my way, for I next four.d myself at a place which T thought must be the. Papas Tepe Hills, so I thought if I just kept on come to the second bridge, which leads to Semenli. About 8 p.m. I heard guns begin firing all around. UNDER FIRE. ."It began to rain water, as'well as lead and shrapnel,' and bombs from mortars roared and burst and crashed, some of them less than fifty yards distant. I was cpld and hot by turns. Then I was frightened, for great bombs fell, and blow up the earth like volcanoes, spouting for thirty yards round, or like immense fpugasses. that shot up stones and mud at me. I went back with my ponv and hid beneath a tumulus. There'were many there. For five hours in the cold and rain I waited there, in that' infernal bombardment, unable to go forward and afraid to go back,' for shell-fire intervened and cut off my retreat. Then, worst of all, the din of ..furious rifle-fife began. . Bullets whistled . nuite close, and I wondered again and again if it was to be the Turks' or the Bulgars' fire which would make an end of me. " But- when I could have, withstood very little more, there was a bill in the firing, and I hurried away 'downhill, back towards the through the •black night. I reached Kadekeui railway'station at three o'clock in the morning. Everybody was about, watching the bombardment, There was no room in the little building, so I was advised to betake myself for shelter and safety to Kadekeui village, two miles back, The railway track was, I was told, the best and most direct road. Leading my horse between the metals, I set forward. I had gone less than half a mile when I found myself; upon the rather loose planks of a little bridge of a culvert. My pony stumbled, missing the hoards, and fell through the interstices.. After much scrambling he settled finally and quietly," resting upon his stomach. • RESCUING THE PONY. "In striving to save him from that ignominious fate I fell from the bridge, tumbling into about i2O inches of mud and water. The stuff saved me from broken bones, but made me quite unpresentable. I was helpless, and in my plight I ran back to the railway station, where they, at once sent me bapk with a rescue party: of twenty soldiers. These were fine, willing fellows, and hey laughed and chattered when they took in what just had happened. They grabbed my pony by the tail, by the skin, by the head, the ears, and the mane—how they must have" hurt him I—and lifted him straight up, baggage and all, and set him back upon the road. I was grateful when they led-the _ horpe in procession back to Kadekeui Station. The officers received me most kindly, giving me warm coffee and food," while some of the men helped to clean my clothes, which soon dried beside a good fire. My horse also wa3 stabled and fed, whilst I was treated as a wounded veteran, getting a stretcher for a bed, for they insisted I should pass the night there. "It was seventeen miles to Semeli where I crossed the Arda, which was then running high, by another military bridge. I went to the commandant's hut, where they gaveme something to eat, good and appetising, as well as something to drink and shelter for the night. Next morning, December 4, I, was provided with a horses and I set out for my real destination—the General's headquarters of the division. He was most kind, and I was given food and the share of a tent. ''The weather was still abominabla, find as I could not take pictures I was permitted to wander freely about the camp, looking as I wished at trenches and batteries. The ' armistice had come, and on December 6 I was allowed to go out with the three officers to meet the three Turkish ofiioers who were going to mark ■ out the neutral zone which was to be observed during the truce. & " I may tell you that at that point the Bulgar batteries are within two and a half —perhaps two—miles of Adrianoplß, and also that the opposing advanced trenches are less than 200 yds apart. "The"Bulgars warned me not to attempt to take any photographs without express permission from the Turkish officers. I approached them during the conference, but they scowled. I nvent up to their colonel and saluted him in my best Parisian manner, for you must know I also am an officer of the reserve. Fortunately, he spoke pure French. The ice was broken: the language was too. much for him. WARNING THE PHOTOGRAPHER, " I gave him my name and card, and found his was Urahim. When at length he said, •' I suppose I must let you phonograph ine and my friends.' I was

stantlv charmed. and ho was snapped before he could pose. Then I took - more pictures of him, his two brother officers, of tho Bulgarians, and the 111011 who came forward to p'ant tho whito flags. " 13c I. tor and bettor---! was permitted to photograph several of the Turkish trenches, and in tho distance their fieldgun emplacements. Thero wero ovor 200 Turkish soldier:; holding one of the nearest trenches, and nil of them had their heads and rifles with fixed swordbayonet's projecting over tho earthworks, and were watching our every turn much as a cat watches a mouse. '! took over a score of pictures there, and thought till was going splendidly when 1 edged to where tho Turkish dead lay thickest, whilst, the ofiieors were going on with their duties of marking out tho noiitral aouo. I prepared to take a photo of a row of 200 Turkish dead, many of their faces being horribly distorted, but in an instant rows'of rilles were presented point-blank at 1110. and I was given to understand without mistake that I must' not attempt to take any photograph of those dumb ones, and, further, 1 was bade in a manner no London policeman can command to move on. " T am told that the line of demarcation of the neutral zone upon the south of Adrianople, with its folds in and out, measures just over thirty-eight miles. I returned later on to Semenli, where I met four friends and slept six 011 a floor for a niprht. Next day I came on to Kadekeui; and from there to Mustafa Pasha, first on an ox, then in the Servian tworhorsed waggon."