Father's new Job
Oct. 31, 1915
I'm so excited! Father's got a new job. It was so unexpected. What
with the war, and all, we were all afraid he'd be called up. Of
course, they don't usually trust our people with weapons, but the new
leader****p seems to have new ideas on so many things. And the War has
changed so much.
But, instead, they have told us that new work will be available to
everyone soon. I'm so happy!
Nov. 5, 1915
There are more soldiers in the streets than ever before. They are
changed, somehow. More friendly, I think. Towards us. Towards our
people.
I had heard that the new leaders were trying to help everyone get
along. The alliance with Germany means that Christians and Muslims
must learn to get along! We shall be good neighbours, seperate but
equal. That is what the soldiers say now.
Nov. 7, 1915
Some of the farmers have had their stores confiscated. This is not
unusual, they say, in time of War. The soldiers need food, to fight
the enemy, who press us hard on all fronts. Civilians must manage as
best they can. I am not worried. Neither is father.
Nov. 10, 1915
We here stories of great fires to the east of our town. Whole
villages burned to the ground. The soldiers tell us of great air****ps
of the enemy, with terrible fire weapons. May the Lord protect us
from such evil!
Father and mother are preparing us to move to our new home, where
father can begin his new job. I do hope we have a large garden! It's
so nice to have food of all kinds on the table.
Sister and brother look tired today. I tell them things are getting
better now.
Nov. 12, 1915
Next week we move. We see many families in our neighbourhood are also
preparing to move. They say there are new jobs to be had, and they
fear the enemy.
The soldiers are all very helpful. The new leader****p -- the "Young
Turks", they say -- truly want to help our people. They smile at us,
and help us to pack.
We have seen other families of Christians travelling through our
town. They all look happy.
Nov. 13, 1915
Sister had an accident today. She had cuts and bruises but, she
wouldn't say a thing. I don't know why. Father and mother kept
asking her questions but she just shook and cried. Her dress was
torn. The soldiers all smiled at her, but she just ran away. I hope
she feels better, tomorrow.
Nov. 19, 1915
Moving day! I'm so happy, and excited. Everyone is bustling about,
eager to go to their new homes. The soldiers are a little pushy, I
think. I guess that is their job. I fell down once, and two of them
trampled me a little. But I was Okay.
Last Sunday, in Church, the Priest talked about the Exodus of the Jews
from Egypt. OF the pillar of fire that led them out of Egypt, that
confused and destroyed the armies of Pharoah that pursued them, that
led them through the desert, that gave them food for forty years, and
that led them to the Promised Land.
But the Priest said, this time, Pharoah is on the side of God's Chosen
People. That Pharoah's armies will gaurd and protect his people, will
lead them to their new homes, and will supply them with good jobs.
Nov. 25, 1915
We have been travelling for days. I don't know where our Priest is.
He was supposed to have his own wagon, but, for some reason, the
soldiers wanted him to travel with them, in an advance armored truck.
He argued with them, but they looked very angry, and pulled him by the
arms along with them.
Father and mother look sad today.
Nov. 27, 1915
Travelling is hard. We have little food. Even the horses are very
tired, and groan from hunger.
The soldiers no longer look friendly. They frown, and shout at us. I
don't know why. Sister screams when she sees them. Brother looks
very angry.
Nov. 30, 1915
We passed through a town today. All burned and leveled to the
ground. The houses, the farms. There were dead animals -- horses,
dogs, cats, chickens, cows -- but no people. No people anywhere.
I saw what must have been a very old and fine church. The walls were
broken. The steeple collapsed, its great crucifix burned to blackened
charcol. Strange words were scrawled on its blackened walls. They
were curses.
Dec. 1, 1915
We are becoming very hungry. And there are fewer of us here, in our
little caravan, I think. I don't know where they have gone. Some,
perhaps, have gone home.
The soldiers are still with us. Sister hides in the wagon when they
pass by. Sometime they search the wagons, and take things from them.
Usually food. We have very little food, now.
Dec. 3, 1915
We have come to a great city. People, wagons, trucks are everywhere.
The old people stare at us, the children run away. Soldiers fill the
streets, but our gaurds say they must continue to protect us. They
won't let us speak to anyone, or move far from our wagons. When we
try to beg for food, they hit us, they shout at us. I am frightened,
sometimes.
Dec. 4, 1915
The Train Station. Turkish soldiers heading to fight the enemy. And
German officers are there too. They are easy to pick out in their
spiked helmets. But the Germans never look at us. And there are
many, many Christians travelling here, in caravans of gaurded wagons,
like us, all to be trans****ted by train to their work for the Turkish
State. But the Germans never look at the Christians. Aren't they
Christians too? They never look at us, but they know we are here. I
can feel it.
There are really two Train Stations here. One is noisy, full of
Turkish and German soldiers, clean, open, ungaurded, bustling.
We are led to the other. Walls topped with barbs, and near silence.
No sound but the rhythm of the trains, coming and going, like a great
machine. Gaurds are now all around us, all the time. We pass through
a walled gate, and see m***** and m***** of poor, hungry people. Too
tired to cry or groan. They stand and stare. They are herded to the
waiting trains, we are jammed inside, into the dark. Into the smell.
And we see nothing. We see nothing.
Dec. 7, 1915
We are home. In the camp. In the barracks. All the families and
children, all together.
I cannot remember the train. It was too dark there, so, I cannot
remember it.
I am hungry. And very cold. I tremble with the cold and mother and
father try to hold me close.
Sister no longer speaks. Brother no longer looks angry.
Dec. 14, 1915
There is work. As they said, there is work. For father, mother,
sister, brother and me. We break rocks. We dig ditches. All day.
And then we eat.
And then we sleep.
And then we work.
But day by day there are fewer of us to work. Of those who first
came. They say more are on the way here.
The gaurds say we eat too much and work too little. They shout at us
and wave their rifles and bayonets in our faces. We cannot keep up.
And then they beat us.
Dec. 21, 1915
There is a light in the forest near the camp. A bright, glowing
light, day and night you can see it, like a pillar of fire on the
horizon. A pillar of fire, and a sound like the beating of many, many
drums, loud and louder, it never stops.
I think of the Exodus. Of the Jews in Egypt. Of the pillar of fire
that led them through the desert, to the Promised Land.
=A9 Copyright Jerome Raymond Kraus 2007
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