Siirt

At Siirt we were taken to a post and seated on a bench to wait. At that time non-Muslims were not permitted to bear arms and were assigned to service units. After a while a soldier came to escort us to our posting, the military hospital in the city.

The hospital commander lined us up with the staff and asked our trades. I said I had been a photographer; two companions described themselves as a grocer and a peddler. When he asked whether we could read and write, Sasson and I said yes, while Jacob and Pinhas said no.¹²

The hospital director, an ophthalmologist named Major Dr [[person:edip-osman|Edip Osman]], called me forward. Sasson went to the stores, Pinhas was assigned to hand instruments to a surgeon, and Jacob was sent to the internal ward. Dr Edip explained that he would examine each patient’s eyes and prescribe the medicine; I was to put two drops in each eye. After roughly two hours’ work and cleaning I could rest. He even arranged a sprung bed for me and allowed me to sleep in the examination room.

I do not know why he took to me or gave me such a comfortable position. The hospital had eight doctors and an officer of the guard. Sixty-eight soldiers served there, six as clerks and eight as cooks; the rest cleaned and cared for patients.

The officer of the guard was an exceptionally harsh and cruel lieutenant whom everyone feared. His name was Rahmi Bey and he came from Erzincan. Remembering Nuri Bey’s request, I wrote him the details. It emerged that Rahmi was his cousin and former schoolmate, though they had lost contact. Nuri was delighted that I had found his address, and I hoped he had written Rahmi whatever was needed.

Nuri’s reply arrived while an infectious illness was spreading through the city. Hospital soldiers were forbidden to visit cafés or mingle with local people. One day, while I was away, Rahmi Bey searched for me. My friends warned me to stay out of sight until the hospital director returned; in their experience, the lieutenant only sought a man in order to beat him. I thanked them for their concern and went straight to his office.

Rahmi sat with a gloomy expression and a letter in his hand. He asked how I knew Nuri Bey. I explained that Nuri commanded the Fifth Border Regiment in my town. In the envelope addressed to me, Rahmi had enclosed his own reply to Nuri so that I could read it. Outside I discovered praise for me that I did not think I deserved.³ My friends were waiting to see in what condition I emerged; they rejoiced when they saw me unharmed. From that day my fear of Rahmi Bey disappeared.

On a day off I went into the city with six members of the hospital staff, all from Istanbul: one Greek, one Armenian, and the rest Jews. We stopped in the market for a game of tavla—backgammon.⁴ The door suddenly opened and Rahmi Bey entered. He saw us, turned around, and left.

The six men went pale. Convinced that he would beat them savagely, they considered deserting to Istanbul. “Do not throw away all the time you have already served,” I said. “Do not run. Say that I dragged you there against your wishes; I shall take all the blame.” They agreed and returned to the hospital with me, though for days we waited to be summoned.

At last Rahmi called me in. “I saw you in a place forbidden to soldiers,” he said. “I know how to tear you apart, but because of my cousin Nuri I shall not touch you. For your sake I must forgive the others too. Do not take them there again. If you wish, go alone.” I saluted, left, and told my friends that we had been forgiven.