Adventures in the Caucasus

Ex chaos ordo

Sunday, January 23rd 2011, 7:00pm

A Story of the Deutsche Entwicklingsdienst in Azerbaijan

Early July, 1940

The village of Kobyir was the fourth that the team had visited in the Samukh District since arriving in Azerbaijan some six weeks ago. Since their arrival two days ago the five Germans and their two Azeri liaison officers had been quite busy despite the poor weather; Werner Boehm, the team’s medic, had been working hard to treat a host of ailments that many would consider minor, but in this harsh land, could easily lead to diseases more life-threatening; he had also taught daily first aid classes, and would do so for the remaining period of their stay in Kobyir. Gunther Hartung, the veterinarian, had been equally busy working with the herdsmen to rid their flocks of the pests that always afflicted sheep – showing them how to use modern sheep dip in place of the traditional remedies they had heretofore relied on. Hans Brauer had is hands full training the men of the village how to use newer methods to cultivate the vines what provided the grapes that were the cash crop of this rural district.

Today the summer sun was shining – and its heat made itself felt even in the village’s mountain clime. The team’s leader, Ferdinand Prittwitz and Artur Fromm sat within a circle formed by the villagers, men and women alike, as they explained the purpose of the apparatus they had beside them. Mustafa, the interpreter, told the villagers:

“This thing uses the power of the sun to cook your food or boil your water, as you would a fire. But it does not need wood, as does a fire, nor sheep dung, which smells so foul. When the sun shines, you can cook easily and cleanly.”

One of the villagers asked, “But how does it do so? The sun, of course, is hot in summer, but it cannot make tea. In winter, though it shines, the ground still freezes.”

Mustafa interpreted the question for the benefit of the two Germans – they had not yet mastered the Azeri language, but they had caught the drift of the question, having heard variants of it for the last several weeks. Fromm stood, saying “I can demonstrate”. He drew from his pocket a simple magnifying glass, and walked over to the villager who asked the question.

“Hold out your hand,” Fromm said in broken Azeri; and the villager did so. Standing to one side he held out the glass and allowed a small bright circle to form on the villager’s hand. “It is warm?” he asked.

The villager nodded, and Fromm adjusted the focus to a finer point. As he did so the villager quickly withdrew his hand. “It burns!” he yelped.

Through the interpreter, Mustafa, Fromm explained, “Like the pocket glass, the cooker focuses the rays of the sun, and heats the pot containing your food or the water for your tea, or for your washing. We will show you how to set these up, to aim them so that they may use the power of the sun in winter or summer. They will save you much trouble in procuring firewood or other fuel, and they are cleaner. We have several of them for your village, and the Government has promised to provide more, as they are able.”

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BruceDuncan

Ex chaos ordo

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Friday, January 28th 2011, 3:31am

Adventures in the Caucasus - continued

A Story of the Deutsche Entwicklingsdienst in Azerbaijan

Mid-August 1940

The international airport at Ganja was little more than a well-tended grass field, barely distinct from the rock-strewn grass fields nearby. Admittedly, it was more distinct from the air, as the Azeri authorities had outlined the airstrip and taxiways with white-washed rocks laid level with the ground surface. For a nation emerging from centuries of darkness with few resources, that was progress indeed. Clustered at one end of the airstrip were several old motor trucks of uncertain manufacture, each of which bore the identification markings of the Azeri Ministry of Finance, and two more modern and better kept motor cars from which fluttered the flag of the German Reich. Conrad von Francois, the German minister to Azerbaijan sat in one.

Above two Junkers 86 air transports of the German airline Lufthansa circled preparatory to landing. At the proper time in their circuit each of the aircraft banked, headed toward the airstrip and landed, making their way towards the cluster of vehicles, from which the occupants emerged.

The main door of the lead Junkers opened and from it stepped four young men in khaki shirts and trousers; their leader looked about and was relieved to see von Francois making his way toward them. “Joachim Wever,” he announced; “At your service Herr Minister!”

“This is the Entwicklingsdienst , Herr Wever” clucked the diplomat, “not the Heer . Was there any difficulty with the wireless equipment?”
“No Herr Minister,” Wever replied. “But I would like my team to oversee the unloading of the aircraft. Some of the components are quite delicate.”

“Of course; I have cleared matters with the customs officials and the trucks are here to transport the equipment to the site.”

“Thank you, Herr Minister. It will take some time to offload the aircraft.”

“No matter; I have a car from the embassy waiting for you. It will follow the trucks to the transmitter site if you wish to assure that all the equipment is delivered without incident.”

“I think that wise Herr Minister. Thank you – and we will be at the embassy as soon as our tasks at the transmitter site are complete.”

Some three weeks later

It had taken considerable time to erect the wireless transmitter – even with the relatively power and the modular construction. Their Azeri hosts had located it in a good position on a hill outside the city, and provided their best technicians to assist, but the four members of the Entwicklingsdienst found that they often needed to be in three places at once. Nevertheless they had finished their work and the station was ready for its first test broadcast. Several receiving sets had already been deployed in salons around the city in anticipation of the test.

Eldar Amirov was tingling with anticipation. The Ministry of Information had selected him to be the presenter for the inaugural broadcast on Radio Ganja. He was filled with pride as well.

“Herr Amirov,” said Wever, “when the red light goes on, we will be broadcasting live. We have perhaps two minutes to air time. Are they any last minute questions?”

Amirov shook his head. “No. I understand. Red light – I speak.” His German was functional, but he wanted to learn.

Wever went into the control room and checked the instruments for the last time. “We will be on the air in ten seconds…” he said. “Five, four, three, two, one...”

The red light flickered on. Amirov swallowed and began broadcasting. “Good morning,” he began in Azeri, “This is Azerbaijan Today , and I am your host, Eldar Amirov. Hear now the news.”