4 Ekim 2017 Çarşamba

Hasan Pasa Police Station


The Reluctant  Warrior
by Kemal Tahir
Chapter 2
Translated by Elif Mat


Hasan Pasa Police Station
Besiktas, Istanbul
February, 1919

The Police were interrogating a veiled woman in black at Hasanpasha Police Station. The place was in such a chaos that no one asked Jamil what he was doing there. He went straight to Captain Maksood’s Office without being stopped. He heard some voices coming from the room so he knocked gently. There was no answer. Jamil knocked louder a second time.
“Wait a second, Apostol; some guy is in a hurry as if he has to go. Come in! I said, come in. Don’t make me get up.”
Jamil wanted to play a trick on his friend nicknamed ‘Arab’ and hide his face with the scarf. Captain Maksood roared when he saw a bashi-bozouk. “Who the hell are you? How come you entered the Station without permission? Where are the guards? Look at this, Apostol, if we were doing something inappropriate, somebody could have easily walked in on us. You know I have given orders not to be disturbed. Apparently, anybody can walk in! It is not like a Police Station here. It is as disorganized as a brothel. I will get my whip and beat the guards.” He looked at Jamil, and then turned his attention again to Apostol. Then he talked to Jamil: “Since you are already here; you might as well tell me what you want. Don’t take long. Be brief, very brief.”
Jamil was walking towards the closet and brushing the snow off. Then he took his coat off. Maksood was so surprised by this he roared like a lion again, “Why are you taking your coat off? Damn it! Are you deaf? Apostol, what are you waiting for? Go, get your walking stick and strike him.” When he realized that the man in the room was Jamil, he was dumbstruck. “Oh, it is you Jamil! Oh, Brother! I swear I didn’t recognize you. You look like a bashi-bozouk. Not even General von Kress could have recognized you in this outfit. He knew all thousand students in the Academy and was able to call them by name five years later.  You are out of shape man! You don’t look like yourself. Damn it! Sit over there. If you look this bad, I must be in much worse shape. You are depressing me. Anyway, meet  Apostol.”
Then he turned to Apostol and said, “Apostol, give him a good look. He is the famous Gunnery Officer, Captain Jamil. We call him ‘Jehennem’. He shoots head lice precisely in the eye. What is the point of being such a good shot? It was all in vain. When he was fighting at Gaza, the English came from the right hand side with a surprise attack and claimed Jerusalem. The German General, Jamil’s commander, had to run away in the middle of the night in his night gown. Thank God he fled or else the embarrassment would have been worse!”
Jamil signaled him to stop by raising his hand; “Enough Maksood! You turned into a comedian in Istanbul. Good for you. Aren’t you going to order some tea?”
“Certainly.” He pressed the bell impatiently a couple of times. At the same time he was calling the guards outside, “Didn’t you hear the bell ringing?” The Guard entered the room in a hurry and then Maksood asked; “Where have you been? Did you all become prisoners to the English? What are you doing with that woman, Jevriye, in the interrogation room? Did you do a good job interrogating? Don’t laugh. You are on duty.  Bring us some tea. Quick!  You are dismissed.”
Apostol stood up to leave. Maksood said, “Wait! Why are you going?”
“I should be going, Maksood.”
“Where are you going? I ordered some tea and we will have some bagels.”

He opened the window and called to the boy working across the street at Hasan Pasha Bakery and called bakery worker, “Son...Dursun...Look over here.”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Send us some bagels.”
“How many bagels do you need?”
“Ten.”
“How many sesame bagels?”
“Six.”
“Do you need anything else?”
“Like what?”
“Would you like some doughnuts as well?”
“When you pass away we will eat doughnuts at the funeral”
“I hope so, Captain. I would like to go to a better place. You know the saying, ‘I don’t want any candy from Damascus, because I don’t want to deal with the Arabs.”
“Fuck you! Damn it! I know what to do with you. I will arrest you as a deserter, then shave your beard and send you to the desert so you can see what Damascus is like!”
He closed the window and took a seat. “Jamil, have you met Apostol before? He is a talented guy! If Fehim Pasha had had somebody like him he wouldn’t have been lynched in Bursa. And he would have been rich just by using his services as a pimp to Sultan Hamid!”
“Maksood don’t talk like that; the Captain may believe you.”
“Is that not right?  Are you not a Pimp? Are you the Mayor of Athens?”
Apostol smiled like a little boy, he was embarrassed. His posture was so bad; you could call him a hunchback. He always had neat clothes on like a Sublime Porte Gentleman. He was wearing a dress coat, a nice shirt and a neat tie. He was holding his ebony walking stick with silver engraving with both hands. He looked like one of the Tanzimat Reform Era Ottoman Ambassadors who were Christians. He had good manners. He was politely stirring his tea and eating his bagel.
Maksood spoke as he chewed on his bagel. “My friend Jamil spent all his life fighting in the mountains and deserts. He knows all about the rugged terrain and the forests of the country. Now that he is back in town we should help him get used to polite society. We should help him relax. Send two pretty women to him tonight. They will massage him, and help him relax.”
“Arab! Shame on you! What kind of talk is that?” Jamil protested.
“Apostol doesn’t mind.” After Maksood said this Apostol stood up to leave. Maksood wasn’t pleased. “Why are you leaving early? Why don’t you eat another bagel?”
“Maksood, it is time. I really have to go. I will come back another day.”
“Find a woman like I told you. I am not joking. Tell her that we need her. She has to be veiled; she has to look presentable. Neither her employer Catharine nor her lover John should recognize her in her disguise. Not even you, Apostol. If Ferid Pasha sees her, he should mistake her for one of the ladies in his Harem. I will wait for you to get back to me. Go now! Don’t look so pious like one of the church officers. Go!”
Apostol said his good bye respectfully in the traditional Ottoman way and left. As soon as the man left Arab‘s face changed as if he had a mask before. “We screwed up! We screwed up so bad, we are in deep trouble.”
Jamil checked the door and lowered his voice; “What happened? Did Patriot get caught?”
“No, that would be bad; he is not in danger...yet.”
“Yet?”
“There is no danger for Patriot yet. I am talking about former Governor of Diyarbakir, Rashid.”Jamil understood that he was not saying what he really wanted to say, but dancing around the subject. He also knew that in the end Arab would spill the whole story. It was hard for him to keep it all to himself. He knew that he didn’t need to question him.
“I apologise that we acted carelessly. We put you in danger by sending Dr. Rashid to your home. You could have found yourself in an armed conflict. We should have known better. Until the moment Rashid died; we thought all this was a game. It was more serious than that. Now, we know that we are facing a very difficult situation. When he died, it became clear to us.”
“Didn’t you think to prepare an escape for him? I know Patriot is very thorough, he is the master when it comes to organizing this kind of business.” Jamil inquired.
“To be a master you need some tools. His plan was perfect. Bekiraga Military Prison didn’t have bathrooms for the inmates to shower. So they were sending the inmates to Vezneciler Hamam. Dr.Rashid was supposed to leave the prison in the afternoon. The car was waiting for him not far from the Vezneciler exit to the War Ministry. They ambushed and scared the guards off and they let Rashid in the car. The safe house was in Kadirga. Once Rashid was in the car; they passed through Vefa and left him on the hill, overlooking Kumkapi. He stayed there for five days.”

“Why did you change the house?”
“The owner of the first house had second thoughts. He started to get scared for no reason. On the fifth day he started to complain. It might be that the women of the house got scared and pressured him. Coward! He went out one morning and came back all shaken up; he told us the grocer was asking if he had any houseguests. He was lying. He panicked as if he really was asked by the grocer.” Maksood helplessly shook his shoulders, “People are sick and tired of this, Jamil.” He reached for the bagels and stopped as if he had second thoughts about what he said. I called him ‘coward’ but he was very happy to see Dr.Rashid on the first day. Once Rashid helped him a lot. He was saying, ‘I am very happy that you are at my home. What an honour.’ He was very respectful. He must have been very conflicted about lying about the grocer.”
“He must have been scared.”
“Rightfully so. Three people who helped him escape have been arrested in the past twelve days. Rashid had to end his life. I didn’t know the police were so capable! It wasn’t the police, they were in trouble because our own people got scared and started to give the police names. They were going to get caught while helping him escape. Everyone was ready to declare himself as a witness. Most of the witnesses were turban wearing Madrasah students. The commotion took place right in front of the Sharia Islamic Law School. They were all as eager to help the police as if the guy had killed their father. What is it to them? There was a Madrasah instructor, a skinny man with small eyes. He had difficulty breathing, yet screaming, ‘grey automobile, four Unionist infidels, one had a hat on!’ He was so excited one would think he was going to have a heart attack. Patriot told me all about this; he told me all the details. One of the Madrasah students gave a description of Neyir that was so accurate that he even mentioned the rip on his coat lining. He went as far as to say that Neyir might have had a gun under his coat. I didn’t know we had so many enemies, brother! If you spent a couple of hours here, you could see for yourself. Today there is a man hunt in every corner of this damn city of Istanbul. In every window there is someone watching. You know how cats look just before attacking a bird, their jaws get tense. They are all like that. I didn’t know bringing freedom to the country was such a crime. We had enemies from the beginning but now our so called ‘friends’ are also turning their backs on us. My father, may he rest in peace, used to recite a poem;
“Friends will come to plunder quicker than the enemies,
May God protect the country from collapse.”
It is like that. They were enthusiastic Committee of Union and Progress supporters once. They would do all kinds of dirty tricks, using the name of the Party. They would have no rest. Most of them used to make a living by blackmailing people. Bekiraga Military Prison doesn’t just have political inmates. All kinds of people from different ethnic backgrounds are crowding the place. They push them in through one door and let them rest a little and turn them out through the other door. That’s why they can still make a living by blackmailing and making false accusations about people.”
“How many political inmates are there in Bekiraga?”
“There are 93 higher ranking CUP members including the latest additions that have been brought in this month. Other than those, there are another 130 waiting for the trial at the Court Marshall, in relation to the Armenian Massacre. The first trial is scheduled for today. The Governor of Bogazlayan Kamal and two of his friends will be on trial today. I am afraid they will hang them.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so!”
“You never know, these days’ things are changing. Until now I thought these events were not such a big deal. The arrested members also didn’t take it too seriously. One of the guards told me that since Rashid Bey’s suicide everybody has started to worry.”
“Was Rashid really guilty? Did he believe that he was going to get hanged? Did he kill himself because of that?”
“I don’t know, even if he didn’t think of himself as guilty of a crime he might have thought that the enemy will take advantage of the opportunity. They will use this to hang us all. Probably we would have done the same under the same circumstances.”
The phone rang. Maksood answered. “Hello? Hello? Talk louder, bastard, I don’t understand what you are saying? Apostol, is that you? Have you sent the woman? What? She is not coming? She is crying? How come she says ’no’? What does she think I am going to do to her? How can she continue what she is doing from now on without my protection? I will beat her up if she doesn’t accept. Is she crying? Tell her not to cry, it won’t help. How will she get into respectable clothes and present herself as a nice girl from the Sultan’s palace to the French Officers without my help? I don’t believe Margaret is refusing to help me. How can she? I considered her a friend but she turned into a snake. I won’t forget this. I won’t say anything else. If she were to come to me begging I will not accept her apology! Stop it! I don’t want to listen to you anymore. What a chatterbox. I need a woman in conservative dress right away. She should be here in half an hour. What? Yes, you can send an African woman. Get her in a carriage, quickly. Don’t say she is scared as well. Are they all afraid of the British and the French? Are they afraid of them, yet not afraid of me? Am I completely powerless? Damn you all! Bastards! No, I don’t need you here, don’t come. I don’t want to see you anymore. I know what to do with you. You are not doing your job well.”
He slammed down the phone. His voice sounded surprised when he talked to Jamil.
“The woman didn’t want to come here. I don’t believe that.”
“What do you need the woman for, especially on a day like this?”
Captain Maksood began to talk to the phone as if it would understand. “Margaret didn’t want to come! We have lost all our power. We are dead already and we don’t know it yet. Good for you Margaret. Slap my face so I can wake up.”
As he was turning his attention to Jamil, the phone rang again. He looked like he was afraid of answering it. He was disappointed, but his expression begins to change as he once again asserted himself, the proud Judicial Officer. He was smiling happily now. With a wink he said, “The woman didn’t have the courage to come. Whore! Doesn’t she know who am I?” Then he answered the phone proudly, “Hello, Maksood the Arab speaking. Who is calling? I didn’t recognise your voice, Fevzi the Gypsy? What do you want? What party?” He looked tense, “Tonight? No, I can’t come tonight.” He hung up. He said to Jamil, “For a second I thought Margaret called. I was hopeful. Damn it! Why didn’t I ask Fevzi to bring us a girl? Oh, my God! There is nobody in the world more stupid than I am right now!”
Jamil was curious, “What do you want the woman for? Why did you want me to arrive in plain clothes? Why did you want me to bring my gun?”
“Let’s have a smoke first.”
“Forget about smoking, answer me. What is the matter?”
“I didn’t want to involve you in this but I had to.”
“Why is that?  Why shouldn’t you involve me? Did you think I was a coward?” Jamil’s voice changed, “Did you think that I would screw it up?”
“Don’t be silly. I didn’t want to get you involved because we didn’t ask you when we decided to help him escape from the jail.”
“This is all nonsense, Maksood!”
“We didn’t ask you if you wanted to participate in this. Omer and I thought we could pull this off on our own. We acted like fools. We thought we were the masters of these kinds of operations. There is a difference between facing danger knowingly and just falling into a trap unexpectedly. I haven’t been able to focus since this morning. I asked myself, ‘what if they had waited until Dr.Rashid entered the house?’  Then I answered my own question, Jamil wouldn’t let them get the prisoner and he would fight until he died. Once you enter a fight you don’t know how to give up. It is all Omer’s fault.” He thought for a while than sighed, “We are losing our abilities to fight in combat and turning into city boys.”
Jamil was getting impatient. “Enough! Now start telling the story from the beginning, so I can understand.”
Maksood laughed and shook his head. “There was a police raid at Omer’s safe house this morning. That’s the story.”
“Damn it! Did he get caught?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Didn’t Lieutenant Farouk know about this?”
“He knew, but I told him not to say anything to make you worry.”
“Why did you ask me to come over here? I understood something went wrong, when he told me to bring my gun.”
“I was planning something, but I needed a woman to take part in the plan.”
“What is your plan?”
“We need a woman to accompany us to go to his location. There is a women’s tailor located on the ground floor. If we find somebody, she will go in the building veiled and Omer the Patriot will go out in old lady’s clothes and will have a veil on as well. That way, in case there are some people watching they won’t be able to recognize him. If somebody attempts to take her veil off and see her face; then her ‘husband’ will start a fight. He will say; ‘You can’t touch my wife’s veil’. In this commotion Patriot will run away. We will send a friend in the role of the husband.”
“Was that your plan?”
“Yes. What do you think?”
“You planned all this by yourself?
“Yes. What is wrong with the plan?”
“Nothing! It’s Brilliant! Let’s say you find a woman, and then who will play the role of the husband?
“We will find someone that is not well known by the police.”
“Then what will happen? Where will he go to hide, after leaving that place?”
“I asked a pharmacist friend of ours to find a place for him.”
“Who is the pharmacist?”
“Vasif, he owns the Tooran Pharmacy in Kasimpasha.I asked the Fire Department Chief, to help find a carriage.”
“Are we still dealing with the Firemen? Damn it!”
“It is not them! I am joking. It is Captain Ismail Hakki from the Navy Fire Batallion. Do you know him?”
“No, I haven’t met him.”
“Ismail Hakki is a good guy. He is from Ayvansaray. He would give me not one but all the carriages in the Batallion!”  Maksood sighed, like a child having bad dreams. “As I am talking, I also realize that in this day and age you can’t trust your own father. It makes me depressed to think about it.”
They heard the streetcar breaking with a screeching noise. Arab gazed out the window, relieved to have a diversion.
 Patriot’s situation was worrying him. He hadn’t found anyone to help him. He was feeling uneasy about asking for Jamil‘s help since it hadn’t been even fifteen days since he returned. He didn’t want Jamil to get in trouble, so he didn’t know how to ask.
Jamil understood how he felt, but he pretended not to, to buy time. He was contemplating. It was getting cold in the room. Jamil began to feel chilled.  Arab must have felt the same way because he rang the bell to order some wood for the stove! Jamil checked the time as if this would help him find some answers that he was searching for.“Is it absolutely necessary to help him get out of there today?”
“Not necessarily today, but...I was thinking. Do you remember when we were at the front and under attack and we used to run from one crater to the other thinking that the same spot won’t be hit by a bomb for a second time. Just like that. The safe house was ambushed today. Patriot went to the house next door and luckily, escaped this time.”
“Why did they raid the house in the first place?”
“I think someone tipped off the Police. Some agents may have been people watching the house. Maybe the owner had enemies. The raid was not successful. Now they must be searching other places. I think they will send someone to watch the house anyway. They won’t give up.  We should quickly hide him somewhere else.”
“Right.”
Jamil tried to remember some women from the past, who could pull this off. He didn’t hear the knock at the door. It was Lieutenant Farouk.
“Hello Lieutenant.”
“Hello Captain.”
Maksood asked, “Is it done?”
“The carriage is ready. If we can get him out of there; he will come to Ismail Hakki’s place to change.”
“Did you find a place for him?”
“No.”
“Not even a day or two?”
 “No, the pharmacist Vasif tried a number of people, but couldn’t find a place for him. You know Kasimpasha, in that neighbourhood people have small wooden townhouses.  The neighbors can hear your cough.  There are five-six kids in each house. There are always people who are trying to get information from children. If there is a police raid there is nowhere to hide. That is the worst part. It is also impossible to fight over there.”
Jamil looked at the Lieutenant, then to Maksood. They were both embarrassed, sad, and at a loss. They were trying to smile. He looked out of the window. There was a lady leaving the bakery, she was wearing a veil. He thought, “I will make something up and convince my aunt to come with me. If they were to approach us and try to see her face and touch her veil, she would beat them up with her umbrella.”
“What are you laughing at, Jamil? Are you laughing at how desperate we are?”
“No. I am thinking about Sadik. Where is he?”
”He is around. Why do you need him?
“His house is behind the orchards, if I remember correctly.”
“I already asked him for Rashid and it didn’t happen.”
“Osman Kadirga?”
“No.”
“Zekeriya Aksaray?”
“No.”
“Have you asked them and they said ‘no’?”
“Well, not quite, but the answer was negative all the same. Some talked about his mother-in-law being too much of a chatter box; another one said his sister-in-law doesn’t like him.”
Jamil lit a cigarette and turned slightly around. “Wait, I think I know someone.”
“I don’t think so. Everyone that we know, we have knocked on the door and were refused.”
“Do you remember Dr. Munir? We met him at the Monastir War Academy. He was short and skinny”
“I can’t remember. Where was he stationed during the war?”
“He was all around; first to Sarikamish, then Iraq. He came to Damascus, with the Seventh Army when I was a patient at the Navy Hospital.”
“I can’t recall. So what about him?”
“You’ll remember! He was one of the first members of the Committee of Union and Progress. But he left the Party during the events of 31 of March.”
“He left the Party? So why are you bringing up this jerk?”
“Why is he a jerk? Because, he said the truth? He said from the beginning, when we hadn’t lost anything that we were going to lose. He said it would be a disaster for the country.”
“Oh! I don’t know about the politics. So what are we going to do?”
“He will hide Patriot.”
“He left the Party and opposed the policies and you are saying that he would hide Omer while a huge search for him is going on? You call me an idiot but I think your brains got dried up in the desert!”
“He would hide him if his house is suitable. He is known to hate the Unionists so nobody will look for Patriot in his place.”
“Have you thought about what I said before about the others?”
“Trust me; this could work if he is in Istanbul and if his place is suitable. Don’t worry.”
“Where does he live?”
“At Erenkoy.”
“If it wasn’t that far away I would come with you. I am sure you will get refused. Then I can say ‘I told you so’ but it is the other end of the city.”
“It doesn’t matter if it is at the end of world; you are going to come with me. You will come to see if we can get Omer out of his hiding place today!”
“I doubt it.”
“He will accept.”
“Let’s say he agreed, we haven’t found a woman yet.”
“If he agrees, I will find someone. It is not that difficult. If you think that after all the wars, there is a shortage of women, maybe you are right. Let’s not lose time. Arrange transportation and we will leave shortly.”
Arab was about to ring the bell. He stopped and said, “I won’t come. It is not necessary to go together and I have lots to do here anyway. I have a lot of paperwork to do.”
“Don’t put me off with your paperwork. You have to come. In case I need to be separated from Patriot you should know the address, so that you can take him there yourself. We have to think about the worst case scenario, as well. I don’t know the address myself. I can’t write it for you on a piece of paper. I went there two years ago. Only once. I am not sure if I can find the house myself.”
Arab’s eyes widened with surprise; “That’s right! I can’t believe our luck.” He started to ring the bell loudly; while he was shouting, “You guys come here at once, it is urgent. Hey, I need you.” He was looking at both Jamil and the Lieutenant in confusion. “When you look for them; they are never here” He pressed the bell again. He shouted at the Officer when he came, “I need a carriage right away! We need strong horses. Go! Quick!”
“What are you laughing at, Captain? You think it is easy to run this Station?”
“I am not laughing at that!”
“What then?”
“They say history repeats itself. It is the second time that I am helping a friend to run away disguised as a woman.”
Arab looked preoccupied, but asked; “Who was the first one?”
“I helped Atif after he shot Shemsi Pasha.” Jamil laughed nervously.” If somebody had told me I was going to do the same thing after the Revolution, I would be really pissed off.”
Farouk was listening; he was interested in the story. Jamil lit another cigarette. He didn’t want to appear to be bragging about old stories on a day like this. Arab was chewing his lip and pulling his moustache. Lieutenant Farouk asked timidly, “Captain, did you help Atif escape in woman’s clothing from Monastir?”
“Yes, he was disguised in women’s clothing.”
“Was it at night?”
“No.”
“Wasn’t it better to escape at night?”
“No, it wasn’t, because at that time ladies in Monastir didn’t go out at night.”
There was silence for a minute. Farouk was intrigued, waiting to hear the end of the story. He asked with a smile, “I heard Atif was injured. Is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“What happened? I mean how come he didn’t get caught in spite of his injury?”
Jamil started telling the story, without really wanting to, but then he got enthusiastic as he was telling it. “When Atif fired his gun, suddenly there was gun fire all around. Shemsi Pasha was down and Atif was frozen for a second. I yelled “Come on, quick! Run!” I was nervous. Then Atif snapped back into reality. He checked himself to see if he had any injuries, and then sprang to his feet. There were carriages waiting. He ran under the horses’ bellies and fled into the side streets.  He was crouching and running. I saw one of General Shemsi’s bodyguards aiming his shotgun at him. I thought about shooting the guard in the head but then changed my mind and shot him in the leg. The guard fell on his knees when he was shot but at the same time fired his gun. Atif was still running so I thought he was alright. I took a deep breath. He didn’t realize that he was hit while running. Imagine how difficult it was for the guards to shoot somebody in that crowd. There was a lot of commotion. The guy shot Atif even though he himself was hit.  Atif accomplished something incredibly difficult when you consider how skilled Pasha’s Albanian guards were at shooting. Atif was wounded in the leg, but the bullet entered in and out of the leg without causing major damage. It didn’t rip the blood vessels. They could have followed the blood stains on the street. God helped us! It started to rain heavily. With that rain, the blood stains were washed away and the level of panic increased in the town square.  We got back to the house to wait for the news. We were very worried. Because the moment they caught him, they would have killed him for sure. I wasn’t so worried about being caught and sent to be tried in a Court Marshall. We were waiting, listening outside for footsteps. Then we heard a knock at the door. When I answered the door it was a Lieutenant named Omer. I asked him what he wanted. He scanned both sides of the room and entered the house quickly. He was a shoemaker, he owned a shop. When he heard the shots he decided to close his shop. As he was closing the metal doors somebody entered the shop, pulled his gun and told him to be quiet. He pulled up a chair and sat down. When they saw the blood running through his leg, they bandaged the wound the best they could. Lieutenant Omer told me that he would never call the cops on a hero like Atif. Patriot didn’t trust him at first and told him that we knew nothing about this issue. He said to him that whoever sent him to our place must be wrong.”
The shoemaker said, “The person who shot Pasha sent me here to give you this “He showed us the good luck charm that Atif’s Macedonian girlfriend gave him. Patriot asked where Atif was. The Lieutenant told us that Atif was in the shop. We wanted to know who was staying with Atif, since he was wounded. He answered by saying that his son was with him. Then we were relieved to learn that he was safe. We were lucky that day! First he was able to shoot and kill Shemsi Pasha. As you know you can’t always hit your target. Even if you shoot a man, you can’t always kill him. Secondly, he was lucky to be strong enough to escape even though he was wounded because his wound was not serious. Third, there was the rain, washing away all the blood stains. And finally, he entered a shoe shop where the owner was willing to help him. Another thing was that the shoemaker was working with his son! If it had been an apprentice he couldn’t have trusted the guy. After hearing the whole story we wanted to know the location of the shop. It was right behind the Telegram Office so we went there at once. Atif was all smiles. Next day I wore an Albanian Gentlemen’s clothes, and Atif had a woman’s veil on for a disguise! We left Monastir in a carriage!”


The Officer came and informed Maksood the Arab that the carriage was ready. Arab wanted his coat. While leaving the Office, he asked Farook to stay by the phone and answer the calls.
The wind stopped blowing. The city was covered with snow. Istanbul at the time of the truce was old, disorganized, in piles of ruble and dirty. All that was covered temporarily by the snow.
The carriage was going fast without shaking too much. Arab looked depressed; his lower lip hanging.
From time to time he looked at Jamil out of the corner of his eye. “Jamil?”
“Yes?”
“Brother, we are going to that place, but...”
“But...”
“I really don’t want to do this...”
“Why?”
“Because he left the Party at such a bad time. We must be crazy to ask for his help? What if he says yes and then plays a trick on us? Did you think about this business thoroughly? If this turns disastrous we would be in shame like no other. Worse than that, we will let Patriot down. It will be such a bad situation.”
“Don’t worry. If I didn’t trust the man I wouldn’t go to his place.”
“Look what this world has come to. At a time like this we are going to ask the enemy for help. Yes, I have come to the conclusion that we are really out of our minds! When I heard that The Generals fled, I was upset. I thought they should have stayed, they should have stood trial. They should be held accountable and they should have faced the charges. That’s what I thought, but it is a different situation now. Things have changed. Who is going to judge them? Will there be a fair trial? They don’t want to judge the Unionist, they want their heads! He was quiet for some time and he covered his face with both hands. Then he continued. “How did we lose the war? Nobody thought of defeat. We would have been better to die than to lose a war. It is a terrible situation. It is all our doing! What does the opposition say? They say that those men are accustomed to gang fights and don’t know about politics. They say those thugs finished the Empire in ten years. The mighty empire that has lasted six hundred years! They managed to collapse it in ten years! When the country was still recovering from the Balkan wars, when that defeat was still in front of us lying like a dead animal; how could the Unionist go into the Great War head first? What kind of craziness is that? They were like mad dogs. They were like lions eating whatever is in front of them and beating up whatever is around them. They were acting courageously and yet when they couldn’t face defeat they fled the country! We know the big shots in the Party very well.  Were they better than the Vizier’s of the bygone era? In the past even porters, forest men and musicians became viziers without proper education.  Did our leaders run the country better than the Viziers? Why did they flee? Is it because they were cowards? I asked everyone that I know who had been to Sarikamish about Enver. They told me that he was fighting like crazy; nobody could take him from the line of fire. All around him were very courageous soldiers. All the strong soldiers who could have killed the lions were hiding while Enver was so courageous. The Batallion Commander had to warn him to get out of the trenches which were in front of the artillery. He was afraid the enemy would see Enver and start firing on our troops. You know Jamal better than anybody and you know Talat from the Babiali (Sublime Porte) coup d’etat.There is no doubt that they are brave individuals. They teased the Angel of Death. If it comes to intellect, there is noone in this world who is more stupid than British Prime Minister Lloyd George. Why did we have to be defeated? Was it fate?”
Enver Pasha

“I think the war is not only a question of courage. The camels carried the water to the Suez Canal. We had to carry the artillery on wooden planks. Every fifty feet, we had to go back to bring the wooden planks from the back to the front. They had installed water pipes as large as my waist at Gaza. They transported their arms by train. We weren’t defeated by the artillery Batallion or the cavalry in Gaza. We weren’t defeated because we were outnumbered. We lost the battle because of the water pipes and because of the train tracks. Forget about feeling sorry for the past we have to look to the future!”
“Why should we think about the future? It doesn’t look bright.”
“Maksood, you get softened by just being a Commander of the Police Station”.
“The future looks very bleak to me, Jamil. The more I think about it the more confused I feel.”
Arab lit a cigarette. He was uneasy about asking for help from somebody who had not been faithful to the party. They were passing through the Mercan Street and Sultan Hamam. There were foreign soldiers walking on the bridge and the sea was crowded with foreign ships. They caught the Haydarpasha ferry, at the last minute. In the ferry there were a lot of foreign navy personnel. Many of them didn’t have coats on, even though it was cold. They looked like they were having a good time. It was as if they were never had been to war. Their faces were red from the cold. There were a couple of black soldiers among them.
“Hey Arab, are these youngsters all from your tribe?”
“If the blacks look like they are from my tribe, all the rest are from your tribe!”
“Whenever I see them all well fed and rosy cheeked, I wonder how our poor soldiers won the battle. I also wonder what they think of us.”
“I think the English think of us as Indians, Italians as Habeshis, French as Algerians, and Japanese as Chinese. That’s what a German Officer friend of mine told me.”
“How about the others? Americans and the Germans?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the American’s think of us as the Native Indians. I think German’s consider us the same as Jews.”
They drank some tea. The ferry approached the shore with difficulty.
Then they boarded a train which was not crowded. The employees on the train were all minority ethnic groups. Things had changed. Once again they were running the train service. Their demeanor had changed. During the war time they were humble, now they were proud.
A Greek punched Jamil’s ticket as if he was doing him a great favour, like he was giving him a farm for free. Arab looked at him for some time.
“We shouldn’t have lost that war.”
When they reached Goztepe train station, it was snowing heavily.
They wrapped their scarves around their faces and pulled their coat collars up. They decided not to take a carriage, because they didn’t want to be noticed.
They were walking swiftly.
As Maksood’s discomfort increased he became more agitated and began to walk even more quickly. He had thick boots on and with his military winter coat he was not cold. Jamil suddenly noticed that he was missing his uniform very badly. He was caught off guard by this. He was afraid he would never wear his uniform again. He envied his friend. His brand new coat didn’t warm him anymore. He felt frozen. When he was in the desert enduring the summer heat he would dream about Istanbul’s winters. At the time he wished to be that cold. He wished to be out in the snow with only his shirt on.
Even though it was still snowing, it didn’t feel as cold. When they turned into Bagdad Road, they had the wind at their backs. While crossing the street they stepped into slush up to the ankles twice.
This was the famous Bagdad Road that stretched from Istanbul to Bagdad, crossing almost all of the Empire. Yavuz Sultan Selim went to the Battle of Chaldiran using this road (in the year 1514 against Shah Ismail). After conquering the Holy cities and Egypt he became Caliph and brought its emblems (the sword and mantle of Muhammad) on this road.


Maksood said that these neighborhoods had become rough recently.” You could get robbed, not only that, because of the holes in the street you could fall and break your leg.”
“Do you know the house?
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t find the place so we could have turned back and sought out a solution to our problem somewhere else.”
“Then you will be disappointed because I know where the house is.”
“I still am not convinced that you can find the house.”
From Bagdad Road they turned on to Caddebostan, near the dockside. Munir rented a large house by the sea. Jamil rang the door bell. He waited and tried again. The house must have been far away from the door at the outer gate. They didn’t hear bells ringing from there.
“I think nobody is in.”
Jamil rang the bell for the third time.
“I am coming, Wait...”
Then they heard footsteps approaching, it was a woman’s voice with a Circassian accent; “Who is it, Doctor?”
Dr. Munir sang loudly the Army of Action’s march that had been popular after the Events of March 31st;

“Army of Action...Army of Baraka...”


They heard a woman’s voice who was the housekeeper Gulnihal, “God damn Army of Action! I don’t approve of them.”
“Don’t get scared woman. I am only joking. What a stupid Circassian you are! First I joke, then I explain the joke then I have to tell you where to laugh at the story. Then we would have to wait ten minutes and you will finally laugh. Then I will ask whether you understood the joke and you will say, “I don’t get it, Sir!”
He lifted the heavy iron bar to open the door. And one side of the door slowly moved.
Dr. Munir had a fisherman’s rain coat on. He had  put the hood up. He was short and skinny. He wasn’t handsome but you had the impression that he was fit, fast, strong, and intelligent.
First he looked calmly at Maksood and he tried not to notice the changing looks on Arab’s face confused, nervous, suspicious, and worried. Then he turned his attention to Jamil. “Hello Jamil! Jamil the Cannon Man. Welcome. What brings you here in this weather?”
“Anybody could have come on a nice summer day; I chose to come on a day like this! Let me introduce you to my friend...Maksood Bey. You might have heard his name before. Some call him ‘Uncle’ some ‘Sipahi’ ”
Munir hid his smile. He showed them the way to the house. While they were walking, he looked at Maksood out of the corner of his eye and said:”I think I remember you from somewhere? Where were you during the war? In which Fronts did you serve?”
“I wasn’t in the war zone. Well, not much...”
Jamil knew that Maksood always worked for the secret service and he didn’t want to talk about the fronts so he changed the subject. “He is with the Military Police Force; he works at the Hasan Pasha Station.”
“Is that correct I think I might have seen you somewhere? Have we ever met?”
Maksood stuttered, “No...I don’t think so....”
The yard was quite large. You could clearly see under all the snow that it was disorganized and overgrown. There were two cherry trees on both sides of the entrance.
Dr Munir let them enter the house and welcomed them. Munir closed the door and pulled the iron bar. Maksood elbowed Jamil and said, “Don’t tell him about our problem. Talk about something else and try to leave as soon as possible. I will tell you the reason later.”
Munir said; “Take your coats off...Come on, let me take your coats...I was thinking about you the other day. I thought you might come by but didn’t know when you returned to Istanbul. I was thinking about how mad I was about your nickname.”
“Why?”
“You know they call you “Jehennnem”. We used the greatest cannons of the time when Mehmet conquered Istanbul. When we were building those huge cannons nobody used the term” Jehennem” the Cannon Man...Then the westerners got better at making cannons. As a result, we started buying these heavy weapons from them. Now they are better than us so what did we do? We started bragging about what we had done...If the cannon could fire one shell in an hour and if we could send the bomb fifty feet away we thought we had the best artillery. The people who can use these guns start to get the nickname “Jehennem”. As I was thinking about this matter I found another question to consider: The concept of “Hell.” Our imagination on this is not very impressive.”
Gulnihal was standing by the kitchen door. She was looking like she was looking at the enemy. It was as if the guests were not Jamil and Maksood but the Army of Action itself! She said; “Army of Action... Damn it! They didn’t let us have peace. We had blessed a country, look what happened to it? Muhammad’s people are suffering from hunger...Balkan Gypsies....”
Dr. Munir took his fisherman’s raincoat and hung it on the hook. He was wearing a Cossack shirt and had a Circassian belt adorned with silver. Those clothes made him look even shorter. He went to open the door of a room overlooking the garden. There was porcelain stove in the corner. They also had a copper stove situated in the middle of the room with some wood burning in it.
“Come and sit somewhere. It is warm in here...He remembered something. “We missed the winter when we were at the desert, didn’t we?”
“I was thinking the same thing and laughed, while coming here.”
“Do you still feel the same way?”
Dr. Munir seemed laid back about the situation and he was somewhat ignoring Maksood. Maksood, however, looked increasingly uneasy about being there. His desperation was apparent.
When the door was closed, Maksood hit his knees and said, “Damn it, Jamil! We are in trouble.”
“What happened?”
“You are asking as if you don’t know. Don’t talk to him about Patriot. Make up something and let’s get out of here soon. We need to go. This is a complicated matter. I will let you know later.”
“Tell me now!”
“I am telling you, this is serious...”
“Is it about the Doctor?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know him?”
“I know him quite well...”
“How did you meet him?”
“I will tell you later. Tell him we were just passing by and stopped in. I will be angry if you don’t do as I tell you. You shouldn’t have told him about where I was working. That was a huge mistake. We are in trouble. I shouldn’t have come with you. It was stupid of me.”
Then he heard a voice and made a gesture by putting his finger in front of his lips. “Hush...”He looked around trying to change the subject, “So many books...Even if he lived until he was a hundred years old, a person still couldn’t read all these books.”The walls were covered with bookshelves all the way to the ceiling. He was looking at them with disapproval. When the noise coming from outside ceased, he said, “You see, I know what kind of a man he is... Look at all these books...I never trust bookworms. You know why? They read too much and forget themselves. Nothing good comes from the likes of him...”
“So you think he is no good?”
“He is no good! Even if I didn’t know him, after seeing all these books, I wouldn’t trust him at all Jamil, I know I am not very smart; however, I am not as stupid as you are! That’s for sure. All my years at the secret service I dealt with all kinds of people...”
“You are the expert!”
“Yes, what do you think? If a man reads so many books, let him go. Because he will learn a little from this book, a little from the other and at the end he will be all confused. His brain will become mushy! He wouldn’t make sense. One day he will say something next day he will say something else...I am very sure of the fact that he is not a good doctor as well. I don’t trust these types…They are trouble. Don’t let any secrets out! I am glad I came with you or else there would be irreparable damage.”Then he listened outside. “Hush...Be quite...”
The door opened Jamil and Maksood saw General Halil entering the room. General Halil was General Enver’s uncle and he was one of the leaders of The Committee of Union and Progress.  He said to Maksood, “Oh! Is that you Arab?”
“Oh! I was surprised to see you Pasha.”
Both Captains jumped to their feet and stood at attention. Halil Pasha had the General’s winter coat on. He was tall man and he smiled at them like he usually does in a fatherly way. “Hello, Jamil!”
“Hello, Sir!”
Halil Pasha entered the room and closed the door. “What business do you have with Arab? I don’t like this. He will spell trouble for you.”
Maksood the Arab was surprised. He was swallowing nervously. For weeks now both Turkish and Foreign Police were looking for General Halil. All over Istanbul. If twenty people had come and told him that he was at Munir’s house, he wouldn’t have believed them. He would have told them to come back with better lies.
Halil Pasha gestured to them to take a seat as if it was his own home. “So what brings you here? Is it good news or bad?”
Jamil was waiting because he wanted Maksood to do the talking. Maksood was still swallowing and didn’t know what to say. “Pasha...err…We were just passing by Sir… Well Dr. Munir...err..”
Pasha winked at Jamil. “Take a seat. I insist. Please take a seat. I am listening. Tell me about Dr. Munir”
“Well Sir. “Maksood was checking the door and talking in a low voice, “Dr. Munir was among the political inmates that was sent to Sinop Prison in relation to Mahmud Shevket Pasha’s murder.”
“Well, well… Is that true, Arab?”
“Yes Sir. I know this for a fact because we took the Exiled Officers to Sinop ourselves… Patriot and I.”
“Oh yes, I remember now. You were in charge of them...So?”
“So...I would suggest we leave here right away, Sir. I would never trust him. I should take you somewhere else. It is not only that he was one of the men who were exiled to Sinop; there is also another issue.”
“What other issue?”
“Dear Sir, he is one of our arch enemies. He writes for the opposition newspaper. Murat Bey’s paper,”Mizan”. You should see the things he wrote about our Party. Patriot knows all about it. There is one more thing. We were just about to...”
“You were just about to...don’t say.”Halil Pasha was making a gesture of shooting somebody by pulling the trigger on an imaginary gun. He asked, “Were you going to shoot him?”
“Yes. That’s right! We thought about coming here and pretending we needed him for a patient, and once he was out the door we would shoot him.”
General Halil teased him, “You were going to shoot Dr. Munir? You were going to shoot the Freemason doctor?”
“Freemason? Yes, I remember now. His nickname was ‘Mason’ Right?” Then Arab turned to Jamil and said: “I told you so.”And suddenly he was so embarrassed that he started looking at the floor. Then he apologised. “I am sorry, what was I thinking. I got nervous when I saw him, Sir.”
Halil Pasha continued teasing him, “Maksood ...Do you have any brains?”
Dr. Munir entered the room carrying a tea tray, “Would anyone like to have cognac with their tea?” Jamil stood to help him. Doctor put the tray on the table and went to the cupboard to take out the bottle.
“Pasha?”
“I wouldn’t say no to that”.
Doctor Munir said, “Jamil, I know you will have some? How about you, Maksood?”
Then he started to tell the story to Halil Pasha, “Maksood here didn’t recognize me. We are friends from way back when. This brave man took us to Sinop! After just about three days, when he saw me in Istanbul, he was very surprised. Then he followed me. Is that right Maksood?”
Maksood swallowed hard, “No Sir, I don’t recall anything like that!”        
‘I don’t remember’ means ‘Yes’ in my book! I thought about coming home and let him come after me. I thought he would send someone to bring me to the station and be embarrassed by the results. Then I changed my mind and proceeded to the Istanbul Military Guard. As I was going through the door you should have seen his face.”
“He was surprised? Good!”
“He was surprised then like he was surprised this evening when he saw me at the door. He said, ‘Oh! It is the wrong address’ Jamil, what was he telling you? He was whispering something to you.”
“He was talking about something else....”
“I bet he was telling you to get the hell out of here! Probably he said, ‘that dwarf is our enemy. Even if he is dynamite I don’t care. You don’t know him’ Famous Maksood of the Committee! They call you ‘Sipahi’.  But you travel by foot now. You screwed up at the end. Ottoman’s, they were all Cavalrymen for centuries; however some of them are on foot now! They are on foot to the point that it hurts their feet to walk in this vast land. Why?”
When Dr. Munir started to criticize the Unionists, General Halil raised his hand to stop him. “Hold on! I don’t want any criticism against Unionists.” He turned to Maksood, “I understand now. You were right. Munir here is no good; you should have done what you planned.”
Dr. Munir asked. “What were their plans? Did they make some plans with Patriot?”
Halil Pasha teased him. “Patriot and Maksood are good people. If they were not they would have already shot you.”
Dr. Munir continued criticizing the Unionist’s ways of governing particularly their secret service and hit men. “General, you should have got rid of them earlier; you thought they were not going to hurt us so you let them be.”
Halil Pasha pressed, “What did you think when you heard about Shemsi Pasha’s death?”
“You mean was I happy when I heard the news. Is that it?”
“No, I don’t mean that. You decided on something. You swore to do something. Try to remember...”
Dr. Munir answered. “I had sworn not to talk to the military officers about political matters. For some time I kept my promise. But then I ran out of patience. I had to warn them that what they were doing was wrong.”
“Then you changed your mind when  Jamal  Pasha ordered you to be taken out of the prison in Sinop.”
 “Yes but I was concerned. They haven’t captured one of the suspects for Shemsi Pasha’s murder yet. So I thought if  Jamal  Pasha was looking for a third person to be executed for this case he might choose me. Would you be concerned if you were on my position, General?”
“Yes, I guess I would be.”
General asked Jamil about the current events. He was sad to hear that Rashid had to kill himself. Munir on the other hand didn’t care much about Dr. Rashid’s suicide but he was more concerned with Patriot. He didn’t want Patriot in danger. He said to Jamil, “Bring him here. I understand the situation. Don’t lose time.”
Then he turned to General Halil and asked, “Is that alright with you, Sir?”
“Yes, it is fine with me. But I want to ask you something. Why didn’t you accept Rashid? If you didn’t refuse him, he would probably still be alive.”
“I am a medical doctor. The things that he had done I can’t accept. Whatever the reason, I can’t accept violence. He was merciless.”
“Very well! Is Patriot not violent?”
“He is different; I can’t accept Rashid but I can’t refuse Patriot.”

Sinop Fortress

Jamil and Maksood didn’t talk much, until they reached the train Station. Maksood couldn’t believe what had just transpired. He thought he knew people.
When the train moved, he asked; “If we can bring him here, how do we pull it off without a woman in disguise?”
“We don’t need a woman. I will go and get him myself. I’ll find a carriage.”
“We need a woman because if they become suspicious and look at her face then they must believe that it is a woman. Otherwise they will pull the veil down and see Patriot’s moustache! They shouldn’t recognize you either. You shouldn’t let them be suspicions of you. If it is only one person that is watching the house you can knock him down, but if he gets suspicions he will call for backup. The woman doesn’t have to be particularly smart, but she should keep her calm and not faint should there be a commotion. She shouldn’t be a known prostitute either, in case the guards know her.”
“Wow, I am impressed how you planned all this. It is as good as Napoleon’s war plans. Smart, Maksood!”
“Don’t tease me now. I am stressing over this. I have known the night life of Istanbul for years, I know a lot of women, yet I can’t find anybody now.”
“They are no good. You can’t trust them. When it is   serious business they won’t come. This is the very definition of “Bitch”. You can’t trust all the men, either.”
“What are we going to do?”
“We will find a solution!”
“It is hopeless.”
“The fact that you couldn’t find somebody doesn’t mean that the situation is hopeless.”
“Do you know somebody? Why are you laughing?”
“I know a lady who would help us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Relax; I have somebody to help us with the plan.”
“Who is that?”
“Neriman”
“Our Neriman?”
“Of course.”
“I thought about her too before you came, but...”
“What?”
“We have to think about the worst case scenario. For the past week our police have been cooperating with the French and the British Police.  If you are caught; they will put both of you in jail. Neriman will get scared. If we can’t get her safely to the house before the evening, Salime Hanim will kill us!”
“Salime Hanim won’t bother us today.”
“Why, what is so special about today?”
“We are engaged.”
 “You are engaged to Neriman?”

“Yes, I haven’t’ told you about this yet? We will tell Salime Hanim that we are going out to celebrate and we will go to Omer’s house, to tell him the good news. Aunt Salime won’t object to that. If I tell her this story, Neriman won’t get scared. Maybe she will get surprised. That’s it. If something goes wrong, I will tell Salime Hanim that we just went to see Omer and how were we supposed to know that the police planned to raid the place that very moment. No, I think Neriman is our best bet!”
“Just think about what we will do, if things don’t go as planned. Then how can we explain all this to Salime Hanim?”
They discussed the situation until they reached Haydarpasha Train Station. For the last time Maksood called Farouk to ask if there was any news. He was furious and swearing at all the pimps and hookers in the entire country!
Jamil elbowed him on his side. “Don’t worry about this anymore. We need the carriage within an hour, in the next street. Nobody has to worry about this anymore. Now, tell me Patriot’s address. I will cross the Bosporus at Uskudar.”

“Uskudar is a good choice”. Maksood was ashamed of himself. He was still complaining.”How can we let our sweet girl do this dangerous job?”
“Enough of that! Let me have the address. I will deliver Omer safe and sound.”
Maksood returned to his normal optimistic self. “Alright then, write down the address. What time is it? Almost three. Let’s say we roll at four o’clock, sharp. The carriage is ready. The horses are chestnut colour. It is a just a phaeton, they couldn’t get a better carriage. Go ask the driver if he is waiting for somebody. If he says ‘I am waiting for the Doctor’; you know it is your ride.”
”Good job Maksood!”
“Stop teasing me...”
“I am on my way...”
“Don’t go yet without listening to me. Damn it! Listen, first Neriman will exit the house. She will walk as if in a hurry and go straight ahead. She will look to both sides of the street as if she suspects something. If there is somebody watching, he must be in the houses across. Patriot will wear old maid’s clothes...wait, don’t hurry! Let me give you a hug. Tell Neriman I said “hi” and tell her I am happy for you two.”
When Jamil finally returned to the house it was almost four o’clock. He made a plan and thought that it was best not to say anything to Salime Hanim, about the conversation he had with Yahya.
Salime Hanim answered the door and said; “Hello, my son-in- law!”
Jamil was surprised.
Salime Hanim was happy. “I am glad Yahya has talked to you, otherwise I am afraid it would have taken   you years to ask...”
Jamil happily gave her a hug. “Don’t embarrass me you know I was thinking that I was not good enough for Neriman.”
“Neriman is so happy, she cried so much. I thought my daughter was clever. I never knew someone could cry so much from happiness. I wish you all the best.”
“Thank you. Where is she now?”
“I don’t know. When she heard the bell ring, she fled upstairs. Maybe girls run away, so a man can catch them. You go try your luck!”
Jamil checked the kitchen first and then quietly climbed the stairs. Neriman’s door was ajar; he pushed the door open and called her “Where are you?”
Neriman came and hugged him with joy. “I was so embarrassed when Yahya came and asked me. He insisted on getting an answer today. Why did you tell him today?”
“It is time”.
“You know my mom was so happy.”
“How about, Enver. Was he happy?”
“We haven’t told him, yet. Grandma will tell him. Thank you. I am happy. My darling…”
He was teasing her again; “They said you cried? I guess you thought that you could have done better?”
“I cried because I was so happy.”
“Let me see...”Then he pulled her and kissed her deeply; “You are even sweeter now.”
“Jamil; take off your coat. Let’s go downstairs. I don’t want my mom to think that we are doing something inappropriate.”
She started inspecting the coat. “It is a nice thick coat. You found a good one. I like it. Are you going to take it off?”
“No I am not going to take my coat off, I will take you out, get ready.”
“Where are we going?”
“Omer sent a word to us that he isn’t feeling well and he wants to see us.”
“In this weather he wants us to go all the way to Aksaray?
“No. He doesn’t live at Aksaray anymore, he lives at Osmanbey now. We will get a carriage. Get your coat quickly. I don’t want to be late.”
“Is it OK if I don’t come with you? I am so tired. What happened to him?”
“We should go. It is not every day that he requests something from us. Come on, get dressed.”
“I can’t be quick? I have to style my hair first.”
“Don’t worry about your hair now. Let’s go.”
“Did you tell mom?”
“No, we will tell her, when we see her downstairs.”
“OK, then leave so I can change.”
“I don’t want to.”
“No, you have to leave.”
Jamil left the room. He sat down by the window and lit a cigarette. Snow was blowing. He was looking at the wooden houses far away. They were so old they seemed like they were trying so hard to stand upright under the wind. Desperate. He remembered a little German town he visited once. He was there for shooting practices. He was learning to use mountain cannons.
There was a chateau on top of the hill. The houses were made out of stone and were situated around the town circle that had been used as a market place in the middle ages. The houses had pointy roofs. They had little balconies supported by marble columns. They had narrow windows covered by metal shutters outside and thick curtains inside. It seemed like their purpose was to not allow the light in.
Those houses belonged to proud people who believed that whatever they earned would be inherited by their grandsons for generations. They were strong people and built their homes on strong foundations, strong enough to stand all the storms.
He was invited to one of those houses for dinner. With the passage of time things no longer look run down and old. On the contrary they increased in value. Colours and designs became more harmonized with each passing day. There was faded gilded wall paper on the walls. There was a hundred year old piano, an old carpet on the floor; there was a picture in a thick frame and a Slavic icon on the wall. They ate at an oak table. All these items remind people of the pride of hard work and enjoying life not of death and mourning.

The snow was blowing all over, the wind was strong; the houses over the hill were shaking as if they couldn’t stand anymore. The grand house that was being used as a high school on top of the hill was about to give way. The wooden structure of the house was loose, it was wailing.  The Bulgarian Cheesery by the river was trying hard not to slide into the water. Its windowless walls were sinking in the mud. On the bottom of the hill the trees were leafless. There were piles of wet rocks...Without daffodils, the field looked naked...It seemed everything in this whole wide world was trying to hang on until spring. Everything was trying so hard not to slip away.
Jamil realised for the first time in his life how comforting it is to live in security. Security that is deserved and honourable. He lived all his life fighting. Fighting for his life, since the day he was born.
Neriman, unsuspecting of the coming danger; was happily getting ready to go out. She was smiling, excited to give the good news to Patriot.
Patriot was one of the heroes of the Young Turk Revolution. It was not long ago. It seemed almost like yesterday. He was famous. But today he was in hiding, couldn’t go anywhere. He was waiting, with his gun in front of him on the table, listening to the littlest noises coming from outside. He was waiting for somebody to help him escape.
When the place he was staying at was raided, he ran to the house next door. He must have felt embarrassed. He didn’t like things like that. Probably he didn’t know what to say; probably he forced himself to smile and looked around sheepishly. As a warrior and a proud man he must have found this incredibly difficult.
Jamil was listening to any sounds around the house. He was preoccupied, “How come I am not concerned for Neriman as much as Maksood?” He thought about this and concluded that he stopped trusting this shaky world, long ago. Maybe it was even more dangerous to leave her at home; he wanted her to be with him.
“Do you like my outfit? I was in a hurry so I put on the first outfit I saw in the closet. I was looking for my umbrella. I didn’t know where I put it. I haven’t been out lately.”
Neriman was complaining. She was pretending she didn’t like the idea of going somewhere today, but she had a child’s smile on her lips. She put her umbrella aside to put on her gloves. She was looking at herself on the mirror.
Jamil approached; “You look so beautiful!” He noticed something different in his own voice.  “I am speechless”
Neriman waited for him to say some more. Then she turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. She closed her eyes and kissed him. She was kissing him like a woman who had waited too long and she kissed him until she lost her breath.
They went down the hill, arm in arm, under the umbrella, feeling the warmth of each other.
Jamil was thinking that it was their first outing as a couple and what an outing it would be!
“Mother was surprised when I told her that we were going out. She was right. In this weather nobody would leave the house. Is Patriot really very sick?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why did he want us to visit him today?”
“No idea!”
“Don’t tell him that we are engaged, he will tease us.”
“No, he will be happy for us.”
“I know he will be happy for us. Maybe he won’t tease us but Maksood definitely will.”
“We will tease him back.”
When they approached the lone carriage at the corner, the coachman saw them and came out from the coffee house. “We want to go to Osmanbey!”


“Yes, Sir!”
They entered the coach and took cover under the thick nylon coverings. “Open your veil.”
“I am fine.”
Jamil wanted to see her face when he explained the purpose of the trip. He didn’t insist on her opening her veil, though.
The Coachman whipped the horses as they climbed the slippery hill. He didn’t want them to stop midway. Neriman was scared and held Jamil’s arm.
The horses were climbing the hill with difficulty. The passengers were listening to the horse shoes on the road.
Jamil felt his revolver then held Neriman’s hand.
When they arrived at Osmanbey, Jamil looked at the time once more. “Why are we not going in front of the house? Why are we getting off at the corner of the street?” Neriman asked.
“Listen darling, take this paper first.”
“What is that? What is going on?”
“This is the address of the house and names of the people who live there.”
“You are not coming with me?”
“Don’t stop, you should walk as I tell you what to do.”
“You are not coming with me? Where is Omer? Is he in that house?”
“Yes, he is in the house. I will walk you there, but I won’t enter the house.”
“Why?”
“We are not here to visit. Omer will come with us.”
“You said he was sick! Wait...I understand now.”
“Good...all right. Now listen. Get this address and ask for this person.”
Neriman read the paper. “OK! I don’t need the paper. I won’t forget. Number 8, Australian tailor, Madame Lily, I know her name. She used to advertise on the paper.”
“Oh Yes, I also remember. That Madame Lily...”
“Is Omer in Madame Lilly’s house with her?”

“No, Madame Lily returned to her homeland before the truce. You are going to ring the bell and ask for “Madame Lily”. An old Greek lady will answer the door and you will say that you need a wedding dress. Then she will let you know that Madame Lily has left the country. You can say that you are coming from far away and act very disappointed. Then she will invite you in so you can rest a while. It will be easy. You will leave the house shortly anyway.”
“Remember, if somebody asks you anything; tell them about the wedding gown.”
“Who will ask me something?”
“Nobody, but just in case...”
“Alright!”
“When you leave the house; walk straight to the carriage”.
“Which one?”
“You will see.”
“Are you going to wait for me in the carriage?
“No, I will be at the corner.”
“Why?”
“Because it has to be like that…”
“Should I tell anything to Omer?”
“You don’t need to talk to him. When you leave the house he will come right after. Well, in fact, he will come with you disguised as a woman...”
“I see.”
“What?”
“We are helping him escape.”
“We are taking him to another house. That’s all. Will you be scared?”
“No!”
“Don’t get scared. I will be right behind you. I will follow you a couple of meters behind. The coachman is one of our guys. He is not a stranger. You climb up the carriage and don’t worry if he starts going without us.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I will come as well. I am just letting you know if I can’t get in the carriage in time than don’t be afraid.”
“No, you have to come in time.”
Neriman was scared, her voice trembling.
“You promised me you were not going to be nervous. We are together. I am telling you this, just in case something happens. Then we will take another carriage.”
“How can you find another carriage in this weather?”
“There is another one waiting for us in the street below. We have a lot of carriages. Don’t think about that. This is all as a precaution. I want you to be brave, don’t be afraid of anything. Listen we are approaching the street. If you see a carriage ahead then turn to the street.”
“If not?”
“Then we should go back and try another day.”
“The house is at the same street as the waiting carriage?”
“No, further away. You turn from the corner behind the carriage and then take the first right. You will see the house on your left. It is the forth house when you enter the street. Three steps to the door. Wait a little in front of the house as you enter and when you leave the house try to appear nervous.”
“I don’t understand. Why?
“You should look around as if you suspect something. Try to walk like a man with big steps. Don’t hold your skirt like that.”
Neriman stopped and looked at him under her veil. She asked, “Should I pretend I know neither of you?”
“No, you are my fiancé and Omer is our dear friend and brother. Like always. The important thing is not to open your veil. Never! Be careful as not to let the wind open your veil either. If they see your face...”
He was going to say” it will ruin the plans” but stopped mid sentence and said; “It won’t be good.”
“All I want from you is that you keep your face covered and don’t get scared, no matter what! Please...”
“I understand.”
“Do you want to ask anything?”
“No”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“We are going to take Omer with us. That’s all. How are you now? Are your knees shaking?”
“I am fine”.
“We are getting close now. Like I said if you see the carriage, proceed with the plan.” He waited for a moment as if waiting for an answer.
Then he said;”I am going to ask you something;”Would you have come with me if I let you know about this at home?””
“Of course, I would. If I need to do something to help Omer, of course I will do it for him.”
“Thank you, Neriman. Now Go!”
Neriman was walking bravely .She was holding her umbrella. She turned the corner without hesitating.
Jamil understood that the carriage was there. He was feeling like a commander who was letting the soldiers out of the shelter for the very first time. There was the responsibility, feeling sorry for them, and regret. He was walking fast.



The Binoculars of General von Kress

The Reluctant Warrior
By Kemal Tahir
Translated by Elif Mat Erkmen






The aftermath of WW1
February 1919
Istanbul


THE BINOCULARS OF GENERAL VON KRESS
Chapter 1
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 31st incident. “You positioned your guns over those hills on March 31st. 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 being demolished around him.”
“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 talks nonsense.” he explained as he took a long drag from his cigarette.
Yildiz Palace

 “It has been 10 years since March 31st 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, Enver 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 it.”
“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, “Wait. I want to ask you something. Is your friend an officer as well?”
“No, he isn’t.”
“So, why isn’t he 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.”
General von Kress

“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 then 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.”
Over the hill uniformed policemen were running. They heard women and children screaming around the neighborhood. Jamil threw the binoculars away and said, “Quick Neriman to the door.”
“Why to the door?”
“We have to open the door for him. Quick! Open it. Wait!  Don’t open the door all the way, just leave it ajar.” He ran to the storage room. “Neriman, be careful! If Aunt Salime hears this she will be scared.” He sprang to his feet and opened the storage room’s door to get his Mauser Rifle. He took it out from its case and asked, “Can we access the neighbor’s yard from the back of the house?” But he didn’t wait for the answer and ran to the door. He was just about to step outside when Neriman took hold of his arm. She said, “No Jamil, no. Don’t go.”
“Are you crazy? Let me go. Let go of my arm.”He was trying to get away from Neriman but she was holding on to his arm. He realised that she wouldn’t let go unless he pushed her away. Her grip was so tight; he stopped because he didn’t want to hurt her. Then he said again; “Let go of my arm.”
They heard Salime’s voice from downstairs. “What is going on? Did you want something, Neriman?”
“Mom, please close the door and lock it! No! This is not possible...”
“This is ridiculous. Let go.”Upon hearing some more gun shots, Jamil instinctively raised his gun as if he was going to hit Neriman. He did this without even realizing he was doing it. Then he told her again to let go of him.
Neriman didn’t understand what was going on and why he raised the gun, but she was terrified of Jamil’s expression. She said, “Wait Jamil, the gun is not loaded.”
“Damn it!”
Jamil checked the gun. He remembered that he locked the cartridge away when he came home so Neriman’s son Enver couldn’t play with it. When he realized that the gun was not loaded, he tossed it on the bed and ran to the cupboard.
 Salime was climbing the stairs and complaining, “It is not safe to live here anymore.” She looked through the window and said; “ They are opening fire in broad daylight. Who are these people fighting?” Jamil took the cartridge from his suitcase and just as he was standing up, he heard the veterinarian Salih’s indifferent voice, “He shot himself.”
Jamil loaded the gun and went to the window. The man in the black coat was lying face down. Salih began explaining to the women as they looked out the window, “After firing three shots the man stood up and put his hands in the air. I thought he was going to surrender. Then he put the gun in his mouth and fired.”
“Who was he? Why were they after him?”
“Oh my dear Salime, these are dangerous times”.
“Salih, why don’t you go and help him? He might still be alive.” Salime suggested.

The policemen were approaching him, fingers ready on their triggers. One of them nudged him hard with his foot, which startled Salime. “He is kicking the dead person, no respect for the dead. He deserves a slap in the face!”
It was a sunny February day, but dark clouds started to gather with a faint wind. It was as if the clouds were covering the body that was lying in the middle of the field.
Neriman let out a whimper. Jamil looked at her in surprise. Then he realised that he was holding her arm too tight. He let go of his grip, sat on the divan and smiled weakly at Neriman as if to apologize. He unloaded the gun and stared at it as if seeing it for the first time. He was nervous and suddenly became chilled. His old wound from the shrapnel embedded in his left shoulder began to ache. He lit a cigarette from the fire on the heater. He inhaled deeply.
“Jamil, who could that man be?”
“I don’t know”
“Shall I go out to investigate?”
 Neriman went outside without even waiting for his answer. Jamil rubbed his face. Then he looked outside. They had covered the body with some matting, however the wind was blowing it away and the snow was drifting on top of him. Because of that, the large mound with a pile of snow on it started to look like a grave from far away. Jamil thought, “This is crazy. Why did they let him go out of his safe house in the daytime? Does the Unionist think they are still in power? This can’t be Dr.Rashid. Omer the Patriot should know better than that.”
He forgot his cigarette on his lips while he was mindlessly taking the cartridge in and out of his gun. He was lost in thought.
Neriman’s son Enver entered the room. He was breathless.
“Uncle Jamil, that guy is dead. He shot himself. Did you see what happened?”
“No, I didn’t see.”
“I saw him. His lips were blue from the cold. His black eyes were bright. They told me that he was a Unionist!
Jamil didn’t pay attention at first, but then he was surprised by Enver talking about Unionists. He asked, “What do you know about the Unionists?”
“I don’t know. They say because of Unionists we lost the war, they are Traitors...Infidels...”
“Who says Unionists are Infidels? Where did you hear that from?”
“The Grocer Haji was talking about it.”
That Grocer once worked in the palace as Abdulhamid’s cook. He had his white turban on and took an active part in the demonstrations against Unionists on March 31st. Even though he was one of the reactionaries he was able to hide his identity. After March 31st, he went into hiding and waited for the clashes to end between the supporters of the Unionists and reactionaries. Then when everything returned to normal he moved to this neighborhood, pretending he had nothing to do with the unrest and opened up a shop here. He said that he was returning from Mecca, from his pilgrimage and he was not living in Istanbul during the unrest. He had connections in the Food Rationing Department and he knew some rich Greek wholesalers. That’s how he got rich during war years.
“Was Haji pleased that the man shot himself?”
“He was very pleased. He said that it was only just. Committing suicide is a sin; he would die as an infidel. Is that true Uncle Jamil? Will he go straight to hell?”
Then the child saw the gun and asked: “What is that? Can I play with it? Please let me have a look!”
“No, it is not a toy”

“I know what those are .They are bullets.  Bullets for a pistol. Did you use those during the wartime Uncle Jamil? Did you kill any infidels?  Did you ever kill any Unionists?
“Go to your mom son, your socks are wet you will catch a cold. Go change”
Enver left the room unwillingly. Jamil stared at the picture on the wall.
 Jamil became a member of the Commitee of Union and Progress when Patriot urged him. It was 1906. They were in Monastir Macedonia; and they were walking towards their destination on a rainy night. When they reached the corner; Omer the Patriot apologized and said he needed to blindfold him. Holding his arm he guided Jamil through the muddy streets. Upon arriving at their destination; he rang the door bell three times. Someone on the other side of the door said first, “Muin” then “Hilal” three times each. Patriot answered, by saying ‘Hilal’ three times “Muin” only once. Then he removed Jamil’s blindfold and Jamil saw three people in red gowns and black masks. There was a table and on it there was a book and a pistol. He heard a voice that he recognized. It was Eyub Sabri’s voice saying, “Have you decided to join the Commitee? Have you given this a lot of thought? Are you sure?”
Jamil said, “Yes”.
“Do you understand that if you do not follow the rules you will be executed?”
“Yes Sir, I understand the rules.”
He had to take an oath to be a member of the committee for life, thus making him member number: 9-2

If things turned out for the worse, he could have ended up in exile in a place like Fezzan, Taif or Yemen for life. At the time men who would take this road, would forget about getting married to Royal Princesses, being military envoy to important Capitals, or getting promoted to higher ranks. They would have to give up a bright future. But if they were successful; it would mean Freedom for the country. So what would this Freedom look like?  He imagined it as being able to do anything he wanted. But how would this be compatible with the current strict military rules?
Jamil reminded himself that they didn’t have to debate such details, because within just two years, by sending a couple of telegrams they achieved their goal. They brought Freedom to the country.
Jamil was still gazing at the picture on the wall. Nazmi died defending Edirne which was under siege. He didn’t have time to learn that their party was ruling the country now. They were controlling the vast Empire from Danube to Basra; from Sinop to Libya. Nazmi died when he was twenty six. He died hungry, sick and desperate.
In the picture, Nazmi was also smiling sadly as if he heard his son calling him “Unionist Infidel.”
Neriman came upstairs looking very pale. “He was a doctor. His name was Rashid… A governor. He escaped from jail recently.”  She approached Jamil and whispered. “Was he the friend you were expecting?”
“No, he wasn’t.”
“Did you know Governor Rashid personally?
“No, I didn’t know him.”
Governor of Diyarbekir Dr,Rashid

“Then why did you ask me to open the door for him? You asked about whether it was possible to enter the neighbor’s yard”. She was obviously shaken; the fear rising up from her throat to her lips. Her lips started to pucker. The stern look in her eyes was turning into fear. “If he entered our house and was seen by the police, they would have raided the house. What would you have done? Would you have fought with them?”
Jamil leaned forward to look directly in her eyes; Neriman knelt down on the floor in desperation, with her hand on her mouth. “You were ready to fight Jamil; you were going to die as well.”
“What are you talking about?” Jamil smiled weakly. “That’s all nonsense. Nothing like that was going to happen.”He reached out to touch her shoulder and then stopped. He said, “Why are you crying? Why are you getting worked up?”
“Jamil, I am not a child.” She raised her head, “I can understand. They said they had been after Dr.  Rashid for a couple of days now. They were determined to find him dead or alive. Had they not found him, they were going to arrest the officers who were suspected to have helped him and hung them instead.”  There were tears in her eyes. “Why don’t you think about us? We have waited for you to return for so many years.”
“You have waited and I have come.” He touched her cheek, “Please, don’t cry over nothing. It is nothing to worry about. Hush now.”
“You came back, but you aren’t really here. You are always anxious. Always distracted by sounds. Always on the alert. If someone called you from the street in the middle of the night; you would go in a second, grabbing your gun on the way out.”
“Would I?”Jamil was asking the question to himself. He was thinking. “You are wrong. I am so tired I don’t feel like moving; even the German cranes can’t lift me now from my spot.”
“Well, I know exactly what is going on, I understood very well indeed. Don’t do that. It is enough already. Enough fighting. You don’t need your salary. Thank God, we have enough income.” She was brushing her cheek against his hand and begging him to stop. “Think about us.” She paused for a while. “The Military Officer who came yesterday…Did he ask you to hide that man? Did you accept? You did. I know you did.”
“Come on, Neriman, of course not. Please believe me, and don’t think like that.”
“You were waiting for him.” She was looking at the gun. “You were going to fight. Your face changed suddenly. You are so used to war. Can’t you just stop? How long will it last? The other day I was thinking, seventeen years ago you were sent to jail. Then you went to Macedonia, then Libya, and then the Balkan wars started. Then four years in the Great War. In those four years did you even think about us for a minute?”
“Please you are being unfair. Look at me.” He held her face in both hands and leaned over to kiss her. “I don’t have anyone else in this life, only you. I told you so many times. I was thinking of you always...even during the hardest times. When I was thinking of you I was scared of dying.  You don’t know how I missed you.”
“You missed me but you didn’t come back to me when the war ended. Why didn’t you come right away? So many months have passed since the war ended.”
“I have already explained that to you.”
“It wasn’t your responsibility to transport the guns to a hidden location.”
“It was on my way. Before coming home I thought I could move the guns.”
Neriman didn’t want him to kiss her so she pretended to have heard something and turned towards the door. “I need to go to kitchen to check the oven.”
“Stay a little longer. I think there is some brandy in the cupboard, will you give me some?”
Neriman stopped at the door, “I’ve asked you to not to drink this early in the day.” She looked wistfully at him. Then her expression turned to forgiveness and she smiled. Her smile was like those of young mothers who are looking at their naughty children. She was shaking her head as she was going to the cupboard to get the brandy. She had a tight dress on and Jamil was admiring her narrow waist and curvy hips.
“Where have you put the bottle? I can’t see it.” Neriman’s voice was flirtatious. She was trying to seduce him.
Jamil wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, approached her gently from behind and grabbed her large breasts with both hands.
 “Let me go. What are you thinking? It’s the middle of the day.”Neriman quickly straightened up and she turned away trying to get herself free. Jamil leaned in to her red lips which are half open; he inhaled her perfume. “Let me go.... Please...”
“I will tell you something, don’t just go yet” He was slowly pushing her towards the bed, trying not to alarm her. “Come, don’t worry.”
“No, I don’t want this.” When the back of her knee hit the bed, Neriman fell backwards on the bed. There was horror in her eyes. For a moment she really resisted. “No, please not in this room.”
 In this room Nazmi’s picture was on the wall. They always made love here when it was dark. They were always shy, ashamed and embarrassed, as if it was a great sin. They didn’t want Salime and Enver to hear anything.  This whole shyness was hurting Jamil’s pride as a man, sneaking around like a thief. But now, he was pulling her clothes off her and he was rough; he had run out of patience. In his haste he didn’t even realise that Neriman was ready to make love as well, like him, without the shame. She was willing as much as he was. Jamil was thinking that Neriman was refusing him. What should have been a gentle love making, he was turning into a fight.
Neriman put her arms over her face. Jamil wanted to see everything but he closed his eyes when he saw Neriman’s beautiful naked body. The whole time they didn’t say anything to each other. Both were feeling guilty. When it was over Neriman, her gaze downcast left the room quickly.
Jamil didn’t know what to do. He stood stoically in the middle of the room, listening to her footsteps going downstairs. He didn’t feel like drinking anymore but still, he went to the cupboard to find the bottle. Purposely ignoring the picture on the wall, he walked over to the window.
Dr. Rashid, the powerful Governor of the Unionist Regime, was still lying under those mats, like a child playing hide and seek. As if he could feel the February cold outside, Jamil shuddered for him. Just before his death Rashid understood what it is like to be followed, what it is like to be cornered like an animal. Once others feared for their lives because of him; now he tasted the same fear before his death.

Once again, Jamil was thinking about the great power of a little bullet while he was pulling out the cork of the bottle with his teeth. All of life’s labours, hopes, despairs, trust, insecurities, pride, shame, everything; all of this comes to an end by a single tiny bullet.
Still looking at the body lying in the middle of the field he raised the bottle. He was almost going to say “For your Honour” as they used to do when war ended. They would stand in attendance and raise their first glass in honour of their fallen comrades.
He didn’t even know the man; he thought it was stupid to honour the Bashi-bozouk. Instead, he went to sit down on the sofa. He started to drink out of the bottle, until he felt numb.
The wind picked up. The view from the window was obscured by the snow flying everywhere.
His stomach was feeling the warmth and the relaxing effects of alcohol. It was spreading through his bloodstream and finally reaching his heart.
He started to look for his cigarettes; he had that bitter aftertaste of the brandy in his mouth. Later he went downstairs to the living room.
“What is the tune that you are whistling?” Salime asked.
“It is a Bedouin tune.”
“Is it all the same tune throughout the whole song or have you just learned one part of it?”
“My dear aunt, for you it is all the same, but for the Bedouin, it is different.”
“Arab’s yalelli, it is unending and monotonous.”
“Yes, a woman named Hadiye used to sing that song. We were listening to her in Damascus.” He started to listen outside. There was a noise; “It was just the wind. You know when listening to this, Arabs would roar, they were ecstatic, peeling their clothes off, ripping their own skin with fingernails, some guy hit the piano…”
Salime wasn’t impressed, “Maybe the lyrics were good.”
“I don’t think so. The guy likens his lover to a female camel that hasn’t given birth yet. It is not any camel, a special white camel. Her eyes are beautiful like she has eyeliner on, tiny ankles, little firm round stomach...”
“Enough, I get it!”
“Well, you asked me but you don’t want to hear the words.”
As Aunt Salime tried to read her newspaper, Jamil broke in with a question just to annoy her. “Is there anything important?”
“No, same old news items. Fire, looting, counterfeit money. They arrested some crooks while printing fake money. A woman named Nuriye got arrested for wearing immodest clothing in Shehzadebasi. Another woman wearing a military uniform went to the movie theatre with her lover. When the public noticed, the lovers were almost beaten up. God save us from the worst. So many wars, so many casualties. Why doesn’t God have mercy on us? We have so many problems. At the Kadidoy ferryboat, some foreign soldiers were talking to the Turkish women inappropriately. On the other hand we are killing each other every day. Look what happened in our own neighborhood. On top of that many Unionists are court marshalled. They are going to get the death penalty.” As if Jamil was one of the wanted, Salime lowered her voice, “Are you going out today?”
“No, I will not!”
“Good, nobody should go out in this weather. It is nice and warm in the house. Rest, while you can, you deserve it.”
Salime inspected Jamil over her glasses, and then she lit a cigarette. She had white hair and rosy cheeks. A little chubby. She had rheumatism which gets worse in winter so she doesn’t leave the house in cold weather and usually spends her days in the living room on the main floor. She listened to the wind which was getting violent. Jamil thought she would say a prayer for all those who were at sea, as she always does in this kind of weather.
 “Did you know the man that they killed?”
“No, I didn’t know him. He escaped from prison. The Bekiraga Division.”
“He didn’t flee by himself. They helped him. There was an Officer with him. The plan was to kill prison guards before they escaped. Unionists didn’t want to leave any clues behind. But he refused, he didn’t allow it. When he was shooting at the Police today, he didn’t want to kill them.”
“Who said all this?”
“The policeman said it. I’m surprised. Is he compassionate? Why would he be so compassionate when they killed Armenians during the deportation? So many people died, even the children. ...”
 “Maybe he was innocent.”
“Why was he scared of being on trial if he didn’t order those deaths? Why did he commit suicide? Neriman was really upset about this event today. We didn’t tell you but she cried for a long time. She said if he hadn’t left his hiding place he would have lived. He would still be alive.”Salime stopped talking and she started to listen to the wind again. “She went outside to look for Enver. I don’t want her to cry again. I wish she would come back to this room and make some coffee for us.”
“Should I go call her?”
“No, let her do her thing. She is crying frequently these days. I worry about her. I am going to talk to her, but how can you not cry at a time like this? In broad daylight, people are being killed, as if it’s no big deal. These are the worst days. Poor guy had a chance to run away, he was running for his life. The Government knows what to do. They could have found him anyway. That lowlife didn’t let him flee.”
“Who are you talking about? The police?” Jamil asked.
“No, I am not talking about the police. Someone tipped them off. It was none of their business. Poor guy was a Doctor. Sarayli Hanim asked the officers if the informant would get a reward for helping them to locate the accused. Whether he would get any medals or money, something like that. The Officers answered “Do you think there is such a thing as medals these days? He is lucky if he gets ten lira to buy a bottle of raki.”
“Do you think they would execute him if he was caught alive?”
“I don’t think so. He was a Governor he had to follow the orders. They should hang the Cabinet Members for such a crime.”
“All this talk about hanging people these days. When our family friend Imam Yahya heard the news, he sent two guys to investigate, and then put on his coat and quickly came here in person. He talked to me and said that he was worried about you. He wondered whether you are going to continue in military service or would you rather go into business. He also said you should talk to him first before deciding on your future. He also mentioned something else....”
“What might that be? I think I know.”
“Why are you smiling? This is serious.  You have to think about your future. You have been in all the wars in this world; and for what?  In the end you were defeated by the English. The enemy occupied the country. So many people died in Gallipoli. You didn’t let the enemy fleet pass the Dardanelle. Now they are resting in front of Beshiktash. Think about that. What do they say? ‘A rolling stone gathers no moss’. Aren’t you thirty three years old? After the Balkan wars if you had listened to me and got married you would have a son as tall as yourself by now.”
“Don’t start with the subject of marriage again, please. How many times have I told you, we are Janissaries! We don’t grow beards and we don’t get married until retirement.”
“Don’t tease me! Youth doesn’t last forever. One day you will realize that, but it will be too late. Let’s change the subject: What should I say to Hodja Yahya?”
“Tell him what I have told you; that I am a Janissary.”
“Enough teasing!”
“I am not teasing; I was wondering why you brought up the subject. Do you have something on your mind?”
Salime Hanim looked suspicious; “What if I do have something on my mind?”
“Well, if a pretty girl will have me I would be happy to get married.”
“I will mention this to Yahya. Don’t change your mind though. What about your future in the military?”
“I haven’t given much thought to that yet. Right now we are getting only half the salary that we are entitled to. It can’t go on like that. I am hoping things will get better. Let me tell you what to say to Yahya; tell him that I am touched by his concern and I am grateful.”
“Sarayli Hanim wanted me to tell you something.”
“I am listening, does she need something?
“She is worried about you. She said; “Times are bad; all the nations of the world are in conflict. Every day the newspapers report stories about uniformed Officers being assaulted by the foreign soldiers.”
“So?”
“She is asking you not to wear your uniform and not to take your gun when you leave the house.”
“I understand but…”he smiled at Neriman who entered the room, “please don’t worry about these things, I won’t get in trouble. No one will bother me.”
Neriman look puzzled. “What was that, mom? What is Jamil talking about?”
“He was wondering about where you were. He was waiting for his coffee.”
Neriman started making coffee over the stove. Salime began questioning her about Enver. “He didn’t want to come home. I am afraid this whole thing will affect him. All he thinks about is the dead man. He went to the spot and saw blood. I don’t think he really saw him committing suicide but he is telling it as if he witnessed the whole thing. And do you know what he asked? He asked, if Uncle Jamil killed a lot of enemies in the war? Really, did you ever fire at somebody from a range close enough to see their faces?”
“No, Artillery Division is different; they don’t kill people from close range.”
Neriman thought he was teasing her and shot him a look of anger. “That means they are more cold hearted. If you see a person up close, you can’t kill him! When you see his eyes you can’t fire. You are laughing at me but I am saddened by all this. I keep thinking about that man. How could they be so cruel? In broad daylight they followed him. He looked everywhere for a place to run. He wanted to sprint to the other hill to safety. Is it like that at the front? Do people think about other places, imagining going somewhere away from the war?”
“I don’t know. It is hard to remember. The first day of the war, for sure people get shaken by all of that. Young men think that all the bullets will find them. I don’t know maybe not exactly like that but something similar”
Neriman was looking cross as she was clearing up the cups. Jamil said artillery men were not cruel at all and attempted a few jokes but couldn’t get the women to laugh.
When Neriman went into the kitchen and Salime started to read her paper, Jamil went upstairs.
He stretched his body, his bones cracked. Since being back in Istanbul he was always so tired. No matter how many days he spent resting, his fatigue was not going away. On the contrary it was increasing.
He sat down by the window and began staring at the tree that Dr. Rashid had tried to hide behind.
The sky was dark, the snow was falling heavily and the wind was cold. The whole world, including this neighborhood where he was born suddenly felt foreign to him. In fact, he had been feeling like he didn’t belong since the day that he became a prisoner in Taskisla Barracks at the age of seventeen. The feeling had never left him. He was a student at the military school. The prison cell in the basement of the building didn’t have any windows. He was alone. The air of the cell was disgusting. There were human feces on the ground. There were rats as big as cats walking calmly on the wooden bed where he slept. They gave him a light two weeks later. Five weeks later he was allowed to go to one of the upstairs rooms. When it was understood that he had nothing to do with the Young Turks that had been arrested earlier, they let him go. He arrived home only to find his mother in bed. When the police came to search their house, she feared that they would hang Jamil, and she had a stroke. She could no longer use her right side and she couldn’t talk. She looked at Jamil without recognizing him and the grief was frozen in her chest forever. She was never able to recognize Jamil again and she soon died.
After he was released Jamil tried to shake that uneasy feeling and tried to go back to his normal life but he just couldn’t. Even with his girlfriend things were not the same. When they were questioning him he didn’t reveal that he had spent the night with her. He was not able to enjoy himself like he used to when he went out with his friends to drink.  Although he wasn’t interested before, he became curious about the Young Turk movement. He started to read their newspapers. He became a member of the secret organization at Suleiman Pasha Division. He would go to Yenicami to find the Arab umbrella seller, to Eminonu to Barber Haji Hashim, or to Dmitri, the tavern owner, to collect Revolutionist’s forbidden papers and take them to his friends at Harbiye Military Academy. After he graduated from the military school as an Officer he went to the Balkan Provinces to take part in the gang wars.If he heard a gunshot in the middle of the night, he could determine the make of gun;
whether Mauser, Gira, Manliher or Keller and whether someone was hit. He learned all the jargon of the action. He wasn’t after fame but he didn’t want to fall behind anybody, whether friend or foe. That’s why he searched Socialist Sandansky and Paniche in the Rodop Mountains, and Nationalist Sarafof, and Garvanof in Lubnica. He took part in various raids and bombings. He destroyed the Johannes gang’s hiding place at Vardar Lake. He won prizes like the famous Karadag guns with silver embossed designs and antique Venetian shot guns at the shooting contests. Macedonia at the time was a warzone, not a formal front but a place where nations not only killed each other but killed their own as well. If you were not watching for a second you could easily get killed. Every corner, every house, every tree, every mosque, every church, even lovers beds were dangerous. Theft, murder and arson were everywhere. Businesses stopped functioning; no more commerce; no more farming and even the schools closed. It was as if there was a huge flood and everything was being carried away by the water. In the middle of this chaos the Ottoman army was in terrible shape, the Uniforms of the soldiers were like rags, thinning and torn. There was no choice but to embrace the change or go down in despair.
Lake Vardar Macedonia

Jamil took a sip from his brandy and continued to reminisce.
One hot July night Atif blurted out that he was ordered to shoot Field Marshall Shemsi Pasha. Shemsi was the last strong man of Abdulhamid that could be depended on. Atif was talking about this order as if it was a joke.They noticed a shooting star in the dark blue night. Omer, Nazmi and Jamil looked up in awe; they were lying down on the mats on the floor.
Omer the Patriot had a Bulgarian girlfriend; Nina. She was singing a bitter gypsy song in the house next door. Atif was lying down with his arms spread on both sides as if he wanted to embrace the world and life. He was enjoying the song. While looking at the stars he spoke openly. In case he died in action, he wanted them to know he gave his sister permission to get married to the Corvette Captain Ismail Hakki. When his head touched the pillow Atif dozed off immediately. The other three continued smoking. In the morning they were awakened by Atif’s whistle. He was choosing a revolver. He looked like a young officer who was going to meet his first date. He was so handsome and dressed very neatly. Atif went out and shot Shemsi while he was leaving Monastir Post Office. He was very calm as always .The other three, fired randomly from the window of one of the houses overlooking the town square, as a distraction to give Atif time to run away without being followed.
Three days later on a Thursday morning, Monastir Military School’s Principal Major Wehip who was from Janna climbed on the cannon to make a speech. This initial Freedom speech ended with the words; “Long Live Monastir Heroes, Long Live Ohri Protectors...Long Live Izmir Division...Long Live our Country...Our Nation...Commitee...Army....either we will have a constitution or we will die...”

What happened next? Revolts in Yemen, Harran and Albania. The Libya defeat. The Balkan disaster. Then the Sarikamish Tragedy. The Suez Canal; Gallipoli; Galicia; Iraqi and Palestinian Fronts and then defeat. Defeat is an understatement, it was total destruction.
 Jamil rubbed at his face again as if to erase the bad memories; then looked for the brandy. This fatigue never ends. This feeling of tiredness. The more I rest the more I feel this way. I am thirty three but feeling like a hundred year old man. I am so tired and I have lost interest in living. Tired of life. I am not even longing for a woman’s love the way I should.
Neriman was calling him. “Jamil.....Jamil...”
“What is it? Is it the door? Is it the Police?”
“Hush, be quiet.” Neriman was whispering. “No, it is not the Police. It is the Lieutenant who came yesterday. He asked for you. I said I didn’t know whether you were home. Should I tell him that you are not here?”
“No, tell him to come in.” He stood up with difficulty and propped the bottle on the pillows of the sofa. “Let’s warm the room up, bring some more wood.” He put his arm around her waist and said, “You are afraid of everything.” Then he kissed her neck.  “It is nothing. Don’t be afraid. Bring some coffee right away so he won’t stay long.”
Neriman left the room, Jamil opened the door. “Oh, is that you Lieutenant? Welcome! What brings you here?”
“I am sorry to disturb you, Captain.” Lieutenant Farouk stood at attention saluting him. “Captain Maksood sent me to talk to you. He wishes....”
“Come on in.”Jamil closed the front door and offered him some slippers. “I would rather not come in; I am in a hurry.” Farouk looked so exhausted that one would wonder how it was possible for him to even stand.
“Take off your coat.”
“Captain Maksood sends his regards. He asks that you please come to the Police Station today. In fact he insists. He advised that you wear plain clothes.” He looked at the door and said quietly, “Bring your gun.”
“Why? Did something happen to Patriot?”
“Omer the Patriot? No, not at all.”
“Good. Come in anyway, have some coffee. It is cold out.”
Lieutenant Farouk took his coat off. He was slim, with a small chest, pointy shoulders wrists and knees. He was wearing a worn uniform of the defeated Ottoman Army, exposing a neck so thin he looked gaunt. He looked like the cold would go right through him. Jamil felt sorry for him.
Jamil let him sit on the sofa and pushed the heater towards his side. “Did you hear about what happened to Dr.Rashid?”
“Yes sir. The Police phoned Military Court Marshall today and told them the good news!” Farouk looked out the window. “Did he commit suicide? The kids were talking about that.”
“Yes…Under that tree...”
“Captain Maksood is saddened by the news. He is also concerned about you. You could have been in trouble had the Police found about Dr.Rashid’s plans to stay in your house. Maksood was sorry about involving you in this matter.”
“Is that right?”
“Omer couldn’t believe that in Istanbul there was nowhere to hide this man.” He said, ‘listen Lieutenant, go and get Rashid right now and take him to the address that I am going to tell you. Don’t worry about anything. Now memorize the address.’  We were to bring the poor man here without even asking you. May he rest in peace.”
Jamil thought about this. “That’s right. That was the only way. You should have listened to Patriot. You could have brought him here without asking me. I wouldn’t refuse hiding him. That way he would still have been alive today. I am not blaming you. Maksood does not usually worry about details like that. Just remember for the next time, when you are in a dangerous situation like this listen to the old school Committee members.  Too bad. They should have followed Patriot’s orders.”
“Can you believe we even thought about taking him to the house where Omer was hiding?”
“That’s insane. Rashid was one of the leaders of the Unionists. Where are all the others? They still have the power in the Government Offices. What happened to all their bodyguards? Maksood should have thought about that. You can’t change location in daylight. Instead of focusing on getting my consent he should have considered that!”
Farouk’s face looked like an unfinished oil painting; he looked so pale against his blue eyes. Jamil was thinking as Farouk was trying to warm his hands. Right now, instead of Lieutenant Farouk there would be Dr.Rashid sitting in this room; had he not been caught. One of his friends tipped off the police.
Fate is a funny thing. Had one of them stopped to gaze in the shop windows, had some kid asked one of them the time? Had they run into someone or  stopped for a minute to plan something; or to go back to get a handkerchief or a piece of paper that had been forgotten? Those little moments, can make a huge difference in one’s fate. He was preoccupied with this thought. Apologetically he smiled and offered the Lieutenant some brandy. “Would you like some?”
“Thank you Captain I would love some. Everyone who was involved in this, except Omer, was arrested. We feared that they would disclose the location of Dr.Rashid under torture.”
As he was drinking, there was an unexpected knock on the door, startling him. Jamil went to the door and took the coffee tray from Neriman. “The brandy was quite enough, Captain! I wouldn’t want to trouble you anymore.”
Jamil offered him a cigarette. He was thinking about the trouble he could have found himself in. Had the Police stormed the house; he would be dead as well. His body would be lying in the morgue next to Rashid’s. He would be lying on the marble tables of the morgue completely naked. “After surviving from all these wars how ironic to come back to my own town, to my own neighborhood only to die by police bullets! Your own police. The worst part of all this is that we are already defeated, we have already turned over our arms and surrendered!”
 He looked at Nazmi’s picture, he too didn’t think about death. Even, when he was shot. This must be the Law of Life you don’t think about death even when you are in the middle of the most dangerous war, similarly while living a normal life at the most ordinary moment, death can come and find you. That must be the Law of Death.
“Captain is that your picture?”
“No that’s Nazmi. My cousin Neriman’s husband....”
“War changed us a lot. I thought it was you in the picture. Where is he now?”
“We lost him during the Balkan Wars at Edirne. Lieutenant Nazmi joined the opposition and fought gangs in the mountains with Captain Niyazi.” He stopped telling his story and realised that Nazmi indeed looked like him. Maybe just a little. He never thought about that before! He wondered if Neriman had noticed the similarity. He felt his chest tightening.
“He has a son, seven years old. Do you know what he told me? ‘That man who had committed suicide was a Unionist, an Infidel!’  Poor Nazmi went to fight against the Bulgarians when other young men were enjoying walks around Fenerbahche and other nice neighborhoods of Istanbul, courting beautiful girls. He wanted freedom for his country. He got killed when he was only twenty six. He was shot through his forehead. His pregnant wife was only eighteen years old. Imagine! Now his son calls them Unionist Infidels!
“It is difficult Captain. From now on it is going to be only trouble for us.”
“That’s right. It is going to be difficult.” The shrapnel wound he had on his shoulder started to ache, and it was worrying Jamil; “I am tired Lieutenant.” He said this without even thinking. “I don’t feel rested. Even though, I have been lying on my back ever since my return. Did we get old without realizing it? What do you think?”
“It has nothing to do with age, Captain. I am twenty two yet I am like a rug on the floor. I can’t shake it either. Our fatigue is not body fatigue, it is our soul. This feeling of tiredness doesn’t go away no matter what I do. I can’t stay focused to read two lines. I used to read a lot when I was at the College. I would read anything. Even light stuff. Different subjects! I thought I would die of boredom if I didn’t read.  I was even reading on the front line in the first months.  To be without light and to be without books was terrible. It was worse than the cold worse than the hunger and head lice. I wanted it all to end. I was looking forward to going to the Academy. I was looking forward to reading day and night. Now I have plenty of time to read, nothing to do day and night. I have lots of books. I don’t want to touch any of them. Even if I pick up a book, I can’t open the book. Even if I open it, I can’t read. And if I begin reading, I get bored after reading half a page. I start listening outside, daydreaming. I don’t like the silence, it makes me uneasy. All of a sudden I get startled for no reason; I get panicky and claustrophobic.  Did you ever notice how people are looking at us, in the streets, in the coffee houses or on the tramways? We don’t carry our epaulets on our shoulders any more, we carry our shame. We are guilty of defeat. In effect, we are guilty of still being alive. We had that feeling on the front lines when a beloved comrade had fallen.”He was lost in thought for a while then added; “How can I not be tired? All those degrading looks, all those humiliating words have taken our strength away. When we look at people we want them just to understand us. We think if we are understood, then we can shake this fatigue and feel confident again. All we want is a friendly smile, even a sympathetic one will do. Their numbers are much larger than the men in uniform. Sometimes they don’t even see us. It is worse than being stared at. They prefer not to look, not to notice. It is as if we don’t exist, as if we are not breathing and moving among the others. We have returned home to be welcomed by them. Even the ticket masters and the waiters are looking down on us. We are staring back at them confused. Guilty, quiet, biting his lip and thinking… We can overcome all this. All we need is a little light at the end of the tunnel. We are tired of feeling helpless, and not knowing how long it will last. The army is dismantled. It can’t be reformed on short notice. When we don’t have an army we will always feel worthless. How can we rest?” He looked for a cigarette and lit it.

“Did you study at Military Junior High School?”
“Yes,”Farouk answered.
“Then you too wore a uniform at the age of eleven, just like me. When you enter the military profession at that age; you are set aside from all the other people. Yes, we are tired because of the fact that the army has been disbanded. We don’t belong. That we can’t bear! All this change is impossible. After being in service for so many years, what else are we are going to do?  Start a business, open a grocery store!”

Jamil put his hand up. He looked at his hand and tried to smile. “As I was listening to you I realized. I don’t know why I didn’t think this before!”
“What is it?”asked Farouk.
“My dad was also a Gunnery Officer. I told you that last night, didn’t I?  Enver Pasha didn’t like opposing views so my father had to retire early. I didn’t care about his being retired. I think I thought him to be old. I thought he deserved a rest. In fact I was cross with him over something. He liked Abdulhamid. When I got arrested he said, ‘these are not the kind of things for you’. When he was retired he came home and said with a smile, ‘our turn is over’. When you were talking earlier I remembered his expression. He really didn’t smile; he just forced his muscles to appear that way, bitterly. Maybe we will never thoroughly understand each other, father and son.” Jamil was lost in thought. “Yes probably, he was struggling too hard; he must have felt like a fish out of water. He was trying not to let us know. He got old in a couple of months.  Everything about him changed. His laugh, his cough even, the way he put his hand in his pocket, his way of greeting people, saying ‘hello’, his walk, his speech. He was embarrassed around people as if he had done something wrong. I am sure he was withdrawn while buying yogurt or even giving alms to the beggars. He thought he was a burden, he wanted to hide this, and he was always apologetic. This continued until the day he died. One afternoon they called me urgently. He had a heart attack and collapsed on the street. As I entered the room and greeted him he said, ‘don’t worry, it is not serious, I was lightheaded and I told them not to call you.’ He wanted me to sit by his side. He had pain. Now they advise the patients in his condition not to talk. Nobody knew that then. For the first time in years he asked; ‘How is your training going?’ He always wanted me to be a Gunnery Officer. I exaggerated a bit, told him it was very demanding physically. He was trying to smile as he was listening, and biting his lip to forget his pain. I finished talking. He held my hand and said; ‘It is a difficult profession. It is hard during the war, as well as during peace times. Artillery is the honour of the army. If you are going to be a soldier you have to join a gunnery division and die while still in the service. I never thought of being retired, until I actually retired. Can you believe that?’ He was stroking my hand. He said he lived as a soldier and hoped to die in uniform. It didn’t happen that way. ‘It was not my fault! Don’t ever forget that. I wanted you to be an Artillery man so that you could be a soldier until you die. Infantrymen can get a shotgun and become a hunter when they leave the army. Cavalrymen get a ranch and some horses. But if you are in the Artillery there is nothing else you can do. Cannons are only found in the barracks.  Ahmed Muhtar Pasha and I transported the cannons from Kars to Erzurum, pulling them like mules in the war against the Russians (1877-78). We were defeated but didn’t leave our guns to the enemy. No honourable army would do that. The doctor doesn’t know why I have chest pain. I know why. I can’t live long without my cannons. It is hard not to go to the barracks. They wouldn’t refuse me if I went for a visit. They would let me in. But I wouldn’t want to go after being forced to retire. Had I been close to my guns I would not collapse like that, wouldn’t have this pain in my chest. My uniform would have protected me like armour. Be a good artillery man. Try to be the best. Napoleon used his artillery like hand guns. You do the same. The best cannon man was Sultan Mahmud’s ‘Jehennem’. He was famous in the army. You are the next generations ‘Jehennem’. These were the words that my dad uttered that day. At the time it sounded like nonsense. But while I was listening to you earlier; I realized how he had suffered.” Jamil closed his eyes. “It is good that he died and didn’t have to see the current situation. Imagine his happiness just knowing that his beloved guns were in his son’s hands. But now it is my turn to ask, where are my cannons?”
Farouk tried not to look at Jamil, and asked permission to leave.
“Don’t go just yet. Have supper with us.”
“No, thank you, I am already late; I have to go to Kasimpasha.”
“You are welcome to stay; the meal is already made.”
“I have to go, Sir. Please, remember to wear plain clothes and bring your gun.”
“Alright.”
Farouk stayed for a minute as they looked out the window together. There was a snow storm, and it was snowing heavily. It was lunch time but looked like evening. The sky was hanging low and dark.
When Farouk left, Jamil went upstairs to put on his shirt and suit. He had bought these from Damascus; he used to wear these clothes while frequenting night clubs. His friends insisted that he should wear street clothes while going to those kinds of places. Everybody was paranoid about doing something wrong and causing Jamal Pasha’s anger in those days.
 Neriman had never seen him in a suit before, he wanted to surprise her. He was being careful not to make any noise. He put his shirt on and wondered how he remembered to tie his tie properly.
As he slid his gun on his belt, he heard the door opening downstairs. He put his jacket on quickly because he didn’t want Neriman to see that he had his gun. He smiled and thought to himself that Neriman would never be a woman who is comfortable with seeing guns. He remembered a German nurse at the Hospital in Damascus. Martha used to ride like a cavalryman and was able to shoot an egg a hundred feet away. Like all the Officers he admired her at the time. However he thought that if a girl could ride a horse like a man and shoot like a man she couldn’t be that feminine in bed. She couldn’t lose herself while making love. He could confirm the comparison because he had made love to Martha and he was comparing her to Neriman.
He went to the dresser to get his cigarette holder, some loose change, his papers, nail clipper and handkerchief.
He put his Fez on and went to the other room. When he saw himself in the mirror he was surprised. He never cared about clothes much but he was never sloppy. He looked handsome and respectable in the uniform no doubt. But what did he look like now? In a navy suit and fez that wasn’t pressed properly. He thought, he looked like a shop keeper going to a wedding or an ordinary guy in his Sunday best or  even better, like a teacher. “Teachers usually carry a newspaper around”, he said to himself. “If the weather was nice I would go get a paper”. He looked outside. It was still snowing. He felt the cold already. Why did the Arab want plain clothes on a day like this?
He was trying on his Fez, tilted on right side, then to the left side and a little crooked then pushed a little to the back. No matter what he did he didn’t like the way it looked. He also didn’t like the way he looked. “My face has changed! I really look like hell! Damn it Maksood the Arab!” He stroked his moustache and his eyebrows.
His neck looked thick when he put the tie on. After he put his jacket on his shoulders looked narrow. When he stretched his arms his jacket felt too tight. He had been putting on weight lately. He was afraid that the stitches would give way. A uniform erased one’s personality but at the same time it gave confidence to those who wore it because they belonged to the Armed Forces. That’s why everyone has faith in soldiers. They would say; a soldier doesn’t feel the cold or hunger and he won’t get tired.
“Oh! Why are you all dressed up?”
Neriman was climbing the stairs.
“Don’t you like the outfit young lady?”
Neriman looked him over, “I like it. I like it very much. You look handsome in this. I will send your Fez to press when the weather gets better.”
“I am going out today so I will stop by the fez shop.”
“Are you going out in this weather? Where? Why?”
Jamil was trying to think of a reason.
“You don’t have a coat. You can’t go without a coat.”
“I will wear my military coat.”
“A military coat over civilian clothes?”
“We only need to change the buttons. The Defence Ministry allows that.”
“How do you know?”
“Lieutenant Farouk told me that.”
“We can’t find suitable buttons today. Why don’t you go tomorrow?
“I have to go today.”
“Why?”
“I will go get my pay cheque, they say today is pay day. They will only pay a little part of what they owe us.”
“And they won’t pay, if you aren’t wearing a suit?
“They will pay me secretly, do you understand?”
“No, you are lying.”
“Don’t be rude. Don’t you have any manners?”
“Turn around, let me see the back. You are going to the Ministry of Defense to receive your salary. Why do you have your gun with you? No, you are not telling the truth; Lieutenant Farouk brought some other news to you, something dangerous.”
“No, you are mistaken, there is nothing dangerous going on. I don’t want them to think that l am a bashi-bozouk, that’s why I chose regular clothes.”
“You don’t go to pick up your salary with a gun in your belt. Leave it! I swear it is visible. It makes a bump in your back, you can’t hide it. The British soldiers will arrest you if you look suspicious. There is a heavy penalty for carrying guns. If there is a conflict with them my mom would be very sad. We will  worry about you until you come back”.
“Hush...Quiet, girl. Don’t raise your voice like that. You say, your mom will be worried and but you are talking so loud. That penalty is for the irregulars, not for the officers. The English already know that we won’t leave the house without our guns. Don’t think about that. Look, is my tie done properly?
“Where are you going? Just tell me. You are not going to get your salary. I saw you blinking your eye and the way you talk is giving you away. I know you are lying.”
“Absolutely not! I never lie! Now listen to me. Tell Aunt Salime that I went to buy a new coat. Tell her that I won’t be long. Tell her that I listened to her advice and from now on I won’t wear my uniform. That would be the best thing to tell her. I will go to see Yahya.”
“You will freeze walking to his shop. I don’t want you to catch cold.”
“Don’t worry; it is not too far away. I will also have my Fez pressed. If I jog I will keep warm.”
“Wait! I will find a scarf for you.”
“It is OK! I don’t need it!”
“Just wait or I will tell mother. I will tell her that you are doing something dangerous.  She won’t let you go.”She ran to her room to grab a red scarf.
“Take this. Wrap it around your neck. Which colour coat are you going to buy?”
“Since I have a navy coloured suit, I think I will get a coat in the same colour.”
“It won’t look good.”
“What colour should I get, then?”
“Grey or brown would be nice. Don’t catch cold. Please leave the gun.”
“You are obsessing too much about my gun today. Sweetheart, a man like me can’t go out without his gun, I would feel naked as if I went out without my trousers. Now you see, I put the scarf on, as ordered.”
He checked his cartridge belt, by habit, and laughed. “Not bad. The ladies will have difficulty keeping their eyes off me!”
“All you do is tease.” While she was wrapping his scarf she was pressing her breast to his arm. “Do you have some money with you?”
“You are right; I need money for the coat. Bring me the ‘treasure chest’
The ‘treasure chest’ was in Neriman’s closet. She took the leather bag and brought it to him. Jamil weighed it in his palm. Three hundred gold coins were heavy indeed. When he got into a fight with a German Captain, Jamal Pasha gave him two hundred as a secret reward. He shouldn’t have fought with the Germans and for that reason his promotion to Major was delayed. Jamal Pasha gave him the money without the knowledge of General Falkenhayn. The other hundred gold coins were simply the ones that he had saved because there was no place to spend money in the middle of the desert.
One gold coin is worth six hundred qurushs. He didn’t know how much a coat would cost, so he put twenty gold coins in his pocket.
Jamal Pasa

Neriman carried the bag downstairs. At the door she squished his arm and whispered, “You need a thick coat, get a good one; don’t catch cold and please don’t be late.”
It was really cold outside, the wind was blowing fiercely, and the snow felt like sharp pieces of glass. He put his hands in his pockets and smiled; “Good thing Neriman gave me the scarf!”Hodja Yahya was the owner of the local Hamam. Jamil would look for him first in his work place and if he is not there he will go to Yahya’s house in Muradiye. They met at the entrance of the building. Jamil greeted him but Yahya didn’t recognize him at first. “Good Day. Who are you, son?”He looked puzzled then he said, “Jamil, is that you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“With that outfit, I didn’t recognise you! Come on in! Good thing I asked about you the other day, or else you wouldn’t think of visiting me. I am glad to see you.”
“I apologize that I didn’t come earlier. I had a lot of things that I had to do, you know, some unfinished business.”
“Would you like to stay here or to go for  coffee?”
“Whatever you like. Did I come at a bad time?”
“No, not at all. Come in! We need to talk. He offered a seat to Jamil and ordered  tea. He spoke with sadness, his eyes downcast. “Now as customary, I will ask, ‘How are you?’ and you will answer; ‘Fine’ but the times are bad. We had a short visit last time. Let me have a good look!  You look strong, like a lion.” Yahya had pink cheeks and he was stroking his beard. “You have been in too many battles. You must be exhausted. We are living in a time without mercy. There is no end to our troubles. I was worried when I heard that you were wounded. Luckily when we heard that it was not serious, we were relieved. You know in this war the women suffered more than the men who were in the line of fire. Without a man in the house it was hard for them to take care of everything. Salime and Neriman were all alone. Two women and a little child. Thank God, Salime had enough income, they didn’t have to worry about money, but still it was not easy.”
The young boy served the tea. “We were talking about you the other day. What are your future plans?  Many Officers left the army after the war. If I remember correctly; you have inherited some land and two shops from your mother. So have you decided to do something with them?”
“I don’t know yet, Sir. I haven’t decided anything.”
“You have to decide soon, though. Things are not getting any better. Think about something to do. You have to start somewhere.”
“But I am not a high ranking Officer; it is not up to me to decide when to leave. Even if I leave the service what kind of a business should I do? Cannons are all I know.” He laughed. “You can be sure, I am good at that. But, I don’t have any business experience.”
“I understand. You are not going to leave the army! Now, to the other topic, the ladies have been thinking, my wife and Salime. Nowadays, young men decide on these matters, without asking their elders opinion; but the ladies thought you might need some help.”
“They are kind, so what is the subject?”
“What I am trying to say is…you know Neriman didn’t get married after she was widowed. So many years have passed since she lost Nazmi. There were a lot of suitors but she didn’t want any of them. Now thank God you have returned home safely and you know each other well.”
Yahya was stirring his tea and pausing for a moment to give Jamil time to think. Jamil smiled.
“You and Neriman are compatible. Marriage is not easy. I am talking like a father to you. Don’t answer right away, think about this. We think you would make a good couple.”
“Thank you very much. Tell Hayriye Hanim, I am very touched. I don’t have to think about it. I’d be happy but, I don’t know what Neriman would say?”
“If you agree, then it is easy to find out what Neriman thinks. I don’t need to tell you how nice a girl she is. I will tell Hayriye to talk to Salime today. Then they will start the preparations.”
“We have to think about Enver. How will he feel about this?”
“It depends on you. You are not a stranger to him. He will get used to the idea. He is only seven.”
After they finished talking about marriage, Jamil mentioned that he wanted to buy a new coat. Yahya sent his helper to a merchant he knew. His helper also took Jamil’s Fez to be pressed.


Sultan Abdulhamit 2