Binoculars of General von Kress

THE BINOCULARS OF GENERAL VON KRESS

Feb, 1919  Istanbul

General von Kress

The Artillery Captain Jamil who was nicknamed ‘Jehennem’ by his Officer friends in the Palestine Front, laughed while still peering through the binoculars. His cousin Neriman took her eyes away from her knitting and looked out of the window as well.

 “What are you laughing at?”

 “It is nothing.”

“Come on darling, tell me. Why did you laugh?”

“Would you get scared if I yelled all of a sudden, ‘Charge’?”

“I would get very scared.”

“I was just reminiscing”, he explained as he put his binoculars down, “I thought our boys were on the offensive towards the hills and I was supposed to give the order ‘defensive fire’ to protect them.”

“What is defensive fire?”

“It is bombarding the enemy trenches with gunfire so that they duck and can’t find an opportunity to fire.”

Neriman remembered the March 31^st incident. “You positioned your guns over those hills on March 31^st. Do you remember?”

She quickly glanced at the portrait of a young officer on the wall and said, “I asked Nazmi if they fired, would the bullets pass over our heads”.

“They would.” Jamil responded. He started to fumble for his cigarettes in his pockets, while trying to avoid looking at the portrait. “Nazmi’s cannons were to the left and mine were to the right. Poor Nazmi was worrying about the enemy. He was saying, ‘What if Abdulhamid’s soldiers won’t fight back?’”

“Did he want them to fight back?” Neriman asked.

“Of course he wanted them to fight back so that he could fire at the palace and Abdulhamid would watch his palace be demolished around him.”

Abdulhamid

“Could he have destroyed the palace?”

“I don’t think so. We became artillery men without even firing one shot. We didn’t participate in any manoeuvres before being sent to the war. A novice artillery man likes to brag, even if he doesn’t have any real experience, he just bullshits.” he explained as he took a long drag from his cigarette. “It has been 10 years since March 31^st when Nazmi was 22 and I was 23.”

“How old was I?”

“How old were you?” He put his binoculars down and put his hand under her chin as he gently tilted her face towards him.

“Let’s see! You were just turning sixteen and beautiful as always,” he pulled her face closer to his.

“Don’t do that.” Neriman protested at first, but then she eventually gave in and let him kiss her. As the kiss progressed, Neriman held her breath and stepped back. “Have you lost your mind, Cousin Jamil? Let me go.”

“Don’t call me cousin!”

“What if someone comes into the room? My mother is getting suspicious. She already asked why I am taking showers so often, in this cold weather.”

“You should have said, ‘Cleanliness is next to Godliness,’ or you could have announced that we were getting married!”

“Let go of me.” she poked him with her knitting needle gently. “My mother was talking to Sarayli Hanim yesterday. The veterinarian Salih’s son-in-law finally came back; he was a prisoner of war. There was a lot of excitement in their home. His son was still a baby when he left and now the boy is turning five. He didn’t recognize his dad and he was saying ‘I don’t want this man in my house; I want him to go away.’ My mom took the opportunity to warn me by saying, ‘it is hard for the boy, they should have given him some time to adjust and they should have prepared him.’ Did you know what Enver said? He said, ‘why doesn’t my mom cover her hair in the presence of Jamil? Is it appropriate?’”

“What a boy!”

“He is used to sleeping in my room. He is afraid you will be sleeping in my room instead of him.”

“He is a smart kid and already understands how marriage works. I think he is just joking around.”  His hands were caressing Neriman’s face, then down to her chest and from there down to her legs. “I am thinking about something else.”

“What is that?”

“I am thinking about my friend who will come today. He will be staying for a couple of nights.”

“Will he be staying here?”

“Yes, what should we do for sleeping arrangements?”

“Let go of me.” Neriman was closing her legs reluctantly while saying, “Take your hands off me. Never mind your friend; you should be worrying about us.”

“What is there to worry about?”

“I’m worried that I’ll get pregnant, Jamil.  I can hardly sleep at night worrying about.”

“I would like that, because if it happens we will get married right away. You should tell your mom. Tell her we need to get married soon. If she asks why, then tell her, it is God’s will.”

“Don’t joke about it. You should be thinking about me.”

“Why don’t you do the thinking?”Jamil teased her.

“Me?  You are the man! You are the strong one.  You are the one who is supposed to think of our future!” she paused for a moment and then said, “Let go. I want to ask you something. Is your friend an officer as well?”

“No, he isn’t.”

“So, why he is not here yet? You said, he would come around nine o’clock. It is nine thirty already. I will be upset if he doesn’t show up. I worked so hard, preparing food. Please don’t drink when he comes, it is only lunch time.”

Hearing the door closing downstairs, Jamil took his hands off her. Neriman took the binoculars. “You think he will come? Are you sure?”She looked out of the window. “I like binoculars. When you are not here, I sit here and look outside. I imagine I am seeing the places that I haven’t seen before. I can see the faces of people from far away. Are all binoculars as powerful as these?”

“Some, not all of them.”

“Did you get them just before the war?”

“No, they were a gift from General von Kress.”

“Who is he?”

“Von Kress? He is a German General. He was our commander in the Gunnery School. We went to the Suez Canal together.”

“Why did he give them to you?”

“Because our Batallion burned a ship on the Canal.”

“That’s cheap. For a big job like that he should have given you something better. Is your friend coming from those hills?”

“I don’t know.”

“What kind of a man is he?”

Jamil was almost going to answer this question by saying ‘I don’t know’ as well. Chewing his moustache he tried to hide his smile, because he had never seen this ‘friend’ before. The person who was coming was a big shot Unionist, former Diyarbakir Governor, Rashid. He was of Circassian origin. Rashid was a major war criminal, responsible for the Armenian deaths. For this reason he was put in Bekiraga Prison. Twelve days ago he escaped.

“Oh! Look outside Jamil! They are after someone; the policeman pulled his gun out.”

“Let me see!”  Jamil took the binoculars; “Where are they? Does he have a gun? Something is shining in his hand.”

“Yes I am sure that he has a gun. I saw it. Is he a thief? If he runs away, will they shoot him?”

The person, whom they were after, had a black coat on. Jamil was trying to see his face. He was wearing glasses. He leaned on a tree for a minute than started to race down the slippery hill.

The policeman was no longer able to see him and he signalled the others to circle the Bulgarian Cheesery. Then he crouched down and came to the bottom of the hill. When he realized that the man in the black coat was determined to escape, he aimed his gun, braced his legs, supporting his right wrist with his left hand he fired. “Oh Jamil, he is shooting at him. He is going to kill him in front of our eyes. Oh, my God, he shot him!”

After the gun shot was heard, the man lost his balance, he spread his arms out to steady himself, and then he stumbled. “Is he shot? Is he dead? Poor man!”

Jamil used the same steady deep voice that he used when he was talking to the nervous recruits who were coming to the war zone for the first time: “Quiet. Don’t panic, nothing happened.”

The man skidded down from the hill. There was a lot of snow on the ground and he was negotiating his way carefully. The police appeared behind the Bulgarian Cheesery and opened fire. The man reached for his gun.

“Did he get shot, Jamil? I think he got shot in the stomach”.

“I don’t think so” Jamil was about to say, ‘he is grabbing his gun’ but he changed his mind. He said, ‘he is not shot’ instead.

The man stood up and aimed his gun towards the Police Officers. He was not nervous at all; he was calm as if he was at the firing range practicing. He fired two shots. He retreated to a tree in the middle of the field and scrambled to shelter himself behind some old fences.

“Jamil, look at him! He is wearing glasses, he is not some thug.”

 Governor Rashid

The Tired Warrior

by Kemal Tahir

Translated to English by Elif Erkmen