'THIM DAYS IS GONE' [‎87r] (173/248)

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Michael Hadow, later ambassador in Tel Aviv & Buenos Aires, with
whom I shared a house in the Consulate-General grounds in Meshed
and who spoke Russian, was hard put to it on one occasion Two
strange figures had appeared in his office, and when the door was
shut, had announced themselves as N.C.O.s in the American Air
Force. It appeared that they had been members of the Do 1 i 111 e
bombing raid on the Japanese in China, and when their plane
force-landed in Russia had been interned and sent to Ishqabad on
the Russian-Persian border. Security had been lax (I suspect
deliberately so) and they had no difficulty in escaping and
making their way to Meshed at the bottom of a lorry-load of
vegetables. We decided to evacuate them to India and Michael set
out to drive them there in an Army 15-cwt. truck.
He unloaded them short of the
instructed them to walk into the cuunury omu, wnen out ot sight
make a half-circle round the post and rejoin the road half a mile
it. Unfotunately the officer in charge announced that he
!d a lift to the next nn«;t and nrnnncoH
first Russian control-post and
country and, when out of sight
beyond
required a lift to the next post and proposed to accompany
Michael in the truck! With difficulty Michael managed to
persuade him that it was forbidden to carry a foreigner in a
British Army Vehicle and that the penalty would probably involve
a long sojourn in a concentration camp in Australia
quite understood and withdrew his demand.
The Russian
Not long after, on returning from a visit to India I was stopped
at the Russian post forty miles short of Meshed.
I explained that I had telegraphed the British Consulate General
in Meshed and asked them to arrange for a pass to be sent to the
post from the Russian Head Quarters. He was adamant that he had
received no pass and I could not proceed. A long but friendly
discussion ensued during which I pointed out the columns of
lorries passing thro.ugh carrying war supplies from India for
Russia and he appreciative1y smoked the American cigarettes which
I offered him, until finally he suggested that I should send my
driver on to collect the pass and bring it back. This was
progress, but I pointed out that as my driver was in
experienced and the road covered with snow and ice, I would
prefer to go and get the pass myself. When he agreed to this I
let him have a sight of a bottle of vodka and asked "Do I really
need to come back?" When he said ’no’ we parted with the vodka
and drove on. The Bashi Bazouk's method might have saved me a
bottle of vodka.
But it wasn't only the Russians who put obstacles in the way of
travellers. Driving up to Bujnurd I found the road blocked by
e ed trees and, as soon as I stopped, two Kurds in fur hats
ongcoats, ^nd tall leather boots came galloping on us
brandish’ng rifles. They looked like re-incarnations of Attila
the Hun, and it transpired that the Zaafaranlu Kurds had risen
in rebellion and were investing Bujnurd. They took me to a room