Talk:Defense of Van (1915)/Ussher

From: An American Physician in Turkey by Clarence D. Ussher, MD. Grace H. Knapp, collaborating. (Note: It is the same work, which Ararat is allegedly based on)

Chapter XVII

THE DEVIL AND THE DEEP SEA

Much of the comparative freedom from disturbance we enjoyed in Van during the fall and winter of 1914 and 1915 was due to the fact that we had a strong and liberal-minded Vali. In February he was transferred to Erzerum and Jevdet Bey, brother-in-law of Enver Pasha, Minister of War, succeeded him, but left the city in charge of a Vekil while he reorganized the Turkish army on the Persian border.

Just before the Armenian Easter he returned to Van. A great number of prominent Armenians of the city went out several miles to greet him with almost royal honors. Descending from his carriage he embraced Vremyan who had been a classmate of his at a Turkish college. Although he was not aware of it, he had just been saved from assassination at the hand of a justly outraged youth by the intervention of these Tashnagist leaders. They had already proved their loyalty to the Government in many ways. Here are two instances.

When the Kurds were in a panic after the annihilation of their forces on the Persian border, had renounced allegiance to the Ottoman Government and joined the Russians, the Armenians could easily have seized the provinces of Van and Bitlis and have plundered the terror-stricken Turks, who now feared that they would avenge themselves for many robberies and injuries. Instead of this they gave the Turks asylum and promised them protection when the Russians should arrive. After the villages of Gargakan, Gargar, and Pelu had been burned by a Turkish mob imported by the Government from Bitlis for the purpose, the Armenians in Kavash defended themselves so successfully that Turks traveling through that district adopted Armenian names as a protection. Vremyan went from Van to persuade the bands who were in control of all the roads through the province to desist and accept the promise of the Government to restore the plunder taken from the villages, a promise which was never kept.

Soon after his arrival in Van, Jevdet Bey demanded four thousand soldiers from the Armenians, although all of their race in the army had been disarmed. They offered to give a tenth of the number as hostages and to pay the exemption fee of the rest; but in spite of the fact that a special order had been sent from Constantinople a few months earlier permitting all Armenians to pay the exemption fee, he insisted on having the men instead of the money. As we learned later, he had already sent out orders to sub-governors to begin a massacre in their districts on April 19, after having first made away with the intellectuals and all leaders of the people.

The head of the Armenian school in Shadakh, fifty miles south of Van, was arrested in deliberate violation of the pledge that schools and teachers should not be interfered with. The people learned that he was to be murdered that night and surrounded the Government building, informing the Kaimakam that neither he nor his gendarmes would be permitted to leave the house till the teacher was liberated.

Jevdet Bey thought this a good opportunity to get rid of some of the chief men of Van. He invited four prominent Armenians, among them Ishkhan (the only one of the leaders supposed to have a knowledge of military tactics), to go to Shadakh as a "peace commission" with an equal number of prominent Turks, and compromise the matter which had arisen between the Armenians and the Government.

He sent them off with a guard of honor, had a feast prepared for them in the first village at which they stopped, and at that feast had the four Armenians treacherously murdered.

The following morning, Saturday, April 17, Jevdet summoned four leaders of the Tashnagists, Vremyan, M.P., Terzibashian, Jidatchian, and Aram. The last-named for various reasons was not able to present himself. Wild rumors of massacre taking place somewhere, and of the murder of Ishkhan and his companions, were disturbing the Armenians, and I went to the Vali to see if there was any way of quieting the apprehensions of the people. While I was in his office the colonel of the Vali's Regiment, which he called his Kasab Tabouri, or Butcher Regiment, composed of Turkish convicts, entered and said, "You sent for me."

"Yes," replied Jevdet; "go to Shadakh and wipe out its people." And turning to me he said savagely, "I won't leave one, not one so high," holding his hand below the height of his knee.

The regiment started ostensibly for Shadakh. Before Ishkhan and his companions had been murdered, they had been told that all the villages between Kertz and Shadakh had already been destroyed; but they had again warned the Armenians to submit to the burning of two or three villages and the murder of half a dozen or a dozen men without retaliation, rather than give the Government an excuse for reprisals. The orders to go to Shadakh may have been a blind; for the regiment turned aside down the Armenian Valley (Haiots Tsore) and destroyed six villages in which there were none but old men, women, and children. Many of the criminals had been bandits and outlaws living by their rifles for years and were crack shots. They were mounted, armed with daggers, automatic pistols, and modern repeating rifles. Where they saw a mother nursing her babe they shot through the babe and the mother's breast and arm. They would gallop into a crowd of fleeing women and children, draw their daggers, and rip up the unfortunate creatures. I forbear to describe the wounds brought to me to repair.

In the meantime Terzibashian and Jidatchian had been released to "persuade all the Armenian men to give themselves up unconditionally to the military." Vremyan was retained to be sent to Constantinople, but was murdered on the way. The Armenians in Van, who had practically decided to give the Vali the four thousand men he had demanded, now dared not do so, for they felt certain he intended to put the four thousand to death. They dared not refuse, either, lest the refusal precipitate a massacre of the entire population. They asked Mr. Yarrow and myself that Saturday afternoon to intercede with Jevdet Bey on their behalf. On the way down we were met by the commander of the gendarmerie with a summons from the Vali. Jevdet Bey's first demand was permission to put fifty soldiers with cannon and supplies for ten days in our mission compound, which was on a hill dominating the Armenian quarter of the Garden City and also the road from the great Turkish barracks on Varak plain.

We inquired, "Why do you wish to put soldiers in our premises?"

"To protect you."

"Against whom?" "These despicable Armenians."

"But we are in no danger from the Armenians. They have no intention nor desire to make trouble. They would not even enter our premises if we forbade them."

"Well, there may be trouble between the Kurds and the Armenians, and the Kurds, not knowing you, might injure you or your premises, and you know the Ottoman Government must protect you."

"Certainly, the Ottoman Government must protect us, but we have no fear of Turks or Kurds; they are all our friends. They have received hundreds of kindnesses from us. We can travel anywhere about the province without the usual Government guard, and are always welcome in the homes of the chiefs." "But the fact is, and I did not want to say it, the Kurds have deserted by the thousands from the Erzerum army and are coming across the country, pillaging and burning, and I am afraid that with my garrison [of six thousand], I cannot protect the city."

It seemed strange that he should then expect to protect us with fifty soldiers, but we did not argue that point. He assured us of his peaceful intentions and took his oath that if any Turk should molest an Armenian he should be put to death, but on the other hand if any Armenian should fire a single shot, "I will wipe out the city and not leave one knee-high. Not one!"

The Vali was insistent on immediate permission to place the guard and we as insistent that we must first consult our associates. Then he requested that Miss McLaren continue her work at the Turkish hospital and promised that she should be perfectly safe and all her needs supplied. He wished her to know that she might not be able to communicate with us for ten days. From the Vali we went to the military hospital and presented his request, telling her that we feared it foreboded serious trouble. She decided that she would stay by her soldier boys and do what she could to protect her Armenian orderlies.

The Tashnagist leaders, when they heard of the proffered guard, told us they would not permit so large a Turkish force to reach our premises and thus to occupy a strategic and dominating position in the Armenian quarter.

At noon the next day (Sunday) I went to the Vali with the Italian Consular Agent, Signor Sbordoni, and together we tried to persuade him that, because of the reports of massacre in the villages and the perfidious treatment of Ishkhan and his companions, the Armenians were in such fear and excitement that it would not be safe to send so large a body of Turkish soldiers into the heart of the Armenian quarter; it might precipitate trouble. We told him also that we feared if there were trouble between the Armenians and Moslems outside our premises, and Turkish soldiers within our walls saw Armenians firing on their comrades outside, they might be tempted to shoot at them and so draw fire on the compound and endanger the lives of those who were there. We urged him if he insisted on sending soldiers as a guard to make the number but five or ten, just enough to show that we were under Ottoman protection, and we would take the rest of the responsibility. He became irritated and insisted: "You will take fifty soldiers or none! And if you refuse to take the fifty soldiers you must sign a statement that you refuse the protection of the Ottoman Government." Some time before he had said that Americans would be treated by the Government precisely as its Armenian subjects were treated. With this statement in his hands he could destroy us as he destroyed Armenians, and if our Government could happen to make any inquiry he would show the paper, affirm that he tried to protect us, that we refused his protection, and the Kurds did the rest.

"Very well, Your Excellency, if you insist on sending the soldiers, knowing that it may cause the trouble which you say you desire to avoid, your officer must understand that our premises are a part of America, extraterritorial by treaty right, and neutral. We will preserve their neutrality to the last. Your officer must have his instructions in writing, a copy of these must be given to us that we may see he does not exceed his orders; and I assure you that if any one, Moslem or Christian, fires a shot from our enclosure without our permission, I will shoot him myself."

Again that night and the following day Signor Sbordoni had audience with the Vali and endeavored to persuade him that the course he was taking was calculated to arouse opposition and not to allay it. Monday the Vali's attitude seemed changed. He was more quiet and urged the Armenians to return to their deserted shops in the marketplace, assuring them that there would be no further molestation of Christians. Little did they know that throughout the province at that very hour thousands of defenseless men, women, and children were being slaughtered with the utmost brutality. Turkish soldiers had been quartered in every Armenian village with instructions to begin at a certain hour. The general order read: "The Armenians must be exterminated. If any Moslem protect a Christian, first, his house shall be burned, then the Christian killed before his eyes, and then his [the Moslem's] family and himself."

That afternoon-1 again visited the military hospital, which was more than half a mile south of the Armenian quarter. As I entered the operating-room seeking Miss McLaren, I found the Vali there, and two army surgeons removing a bullet from the leg of one of the Vali's Laz Guard. Jevdet was surprised to see me. As I left the operating-room he followed me and said, "What shall I do? Shall I send the soldiers?" I replied, "You know, but I fear it will precipitate trouble."

I had been asked some weeks before if I would accept appointment as American Consul; Jevdet Bey had been asked if I would be persona grata and had expressed himself very cordially in the affirmative. I had replied that I would accept such appointment only in an emergency. As a means of letting our Ambassador at Constantinople and the American Consul at Harput know that the emergency had now arrived, I telegraphed them after leaving the hospital, "Conditions critical. Consular presence urgent," and triple-paid the telegram so that it might have precedence over all other telegraphic business, but the next day the Armenian censor told me that the Vali had not permitted the sending of these messages.

On my return from the telegraph station I was informed that of the score of Turkish soldiers in our hospital there were halfa dozen who had sufficiently recovered to be discharged, and they desired to depart. I gave them papers recommending them for furlough and sent them out.

A little later I found that they were being detained in the Armenian quarter lest in their passage through it they should see the bands of armed young men who were holding themselves in readiness for defense in case of a Turkish attack. I said I was responsible for their safety and no harm must come to them. Thereupon they were feasted at a café and escorted to the Turkish quarter.

• The fact is that there is probably no people in the world easier to govern than most of the Kurds. They will do what they are told by those in authority. I have been through six massacres personally and have heard of many others, and I have yet to hear of a massacre that was not perpetrated or sanctioned by the Ottoman Government. The Kurds will not begin a massacre until they are directed to by the Government.

Chapter XVIII

A HEROIC DEFENSE

Before sunrise Tuesday, April 20, we heard several rifle shots on Varak plain. They were followed by a fusillade. During the night Turkish soldiers had occupied a line of trenches about the Armenian quarter of Aikesdan (the Garden City). Two of them had seized a beautiful young woman, one of our former orphan girls fleeing with her children to the city from Shushantz. Two Armenian men running up to rescue the woman were fired at by the Turkish soldiers and killed. All this took place before the German Orphanage premises and was witnessed by Herr and Frau Spörri. Those few shots had been the signal for a general fusillade by the Turks on all sides, and almost immediately Jevdet Bey opened artillery fire on the Armenian quarter in Aikesdan and also on the Armenian quarter in the walled city.

Massacre had so often threatened Van that the Hunchagist, Armenist, and Tashnagist leaders had before the Turkish Revolution prepared for such an event. They had trained young men as marksmen and smuggled in a quantity of arms and ammunition. Most of the ammunition had been found and seized by the Government a short time before the Revolution. After the Constitutional Government had been established with "Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity" as its motto, the Armenians had transformed their revolutionary societies into political parties and had ceased to drill their young men. The mobilization of 1914 had greatly reduced their numbers. The greater part of the ammunition which had escaped seizure in 1908 had been secreted in the near-by villages with the expectation that in the event of a massacre the peasantry would come to the defense of the city.

But in this spring of 1915 very few men had been left in the villages. Thus it came about that in this crisis there were only about three hundred men armed with rifles, and a thousand armed with pistols and antique weapons, to defend thirty thousand Armenians, an area of over a square mile in Aikesdan, and an area of less than a square mile in the walled city. Their leaders had, however, laid their plans carefully during the week past and now bands of young men at the street corners on the boundaries of the Armenian quarter were ready for the oncoming Turkish mob and a charge of infantry. Their return fire was so utterly unexpected that the infantry sought cover.

The firing kept up all day. We could hear the booming of the cannon on Castle Rock; the Armenians of the walled city and of Aikesdan, each group now in a state of siege, were of course cut off from communication with each other. In the evening we saw more than half a score of houses in flames here and there beyond the limits of what I shall hereafter call the besieged city. The Turks burned that night and later the houses of all the Armenians who had lived outside the strictly Armenian quarter, but who had taken refuge within the lines of defense when trouble seemed imminent. They made one exception and that exception showed that even Jevdet Bey had a soft spot somewhere in his heart; he spared the house in which he had spent his boyhood and spared its owner-occupant, Jidatchian, and his family.

At first the opposing forces were on opposite sides of the main streets, each watching eagle-eyed through tiny loopholes for a glimpse of the other. The Armenians joined house to house, built walls at night, and dug trenches across the roads. They built walls within walls to withstand the Turkish artillery and soon found just how thick these must be in order to stop the Turkish shells. The Turks would fire a volley with rifles and the Armenians would reply with pistols, but with surprising accuracy. Small boys would watch their chance, dash to the door of a Turkish position with a bundle of rags saturated with kerosene, ignite it, fan it with fez or cap till the door was blazing and the smoke driving the Turks out, and then run back. One boy on his return was hit, the bullet paralyzing his leg; a brave girl went out under fire and brought him in on her back. She was given a medal by the Military Council.

This Military Council sent a manifesto to the Turkish people saying that the Armenians were fighting one man, Jevdet, and not those who had been their neighbors in the past and would be in the future. Valis might come and go, but the two races must continue to live together, and they hoped that after Jevdet went there might be peaceful and friendly relations, with them.

The Council issued orders to their soldiers not to drink, not to curse the religion of the Turks, to spare women and children, and to report truthfully the actions in which they were engaged. A small bulletin containing the military news was printed and distributed daily.

Representatives of the Tashnagist and Armenist parties and men belonging to neither of these societies composed this committee which was one of many formed very early in the siege under the leadership of Mr. Yarrow. The Armenians in Van province had had small experience in organization, and had perhaps not much natural ability along that line. It was absolutely necessary that some one who had that ability should see to it that the besieged city should be properly governed. Mr. Yarrow organized a government with a mayor, judges, police, and board of health. Thousands had been obliged to leave their own homes; six thousand of these had fled to the American mission compound; the hejira had begun the Saturday evening before the siege, and all day Sunday and Monday there had been a steady stream of people, cattle, and household stuff entering our gates. A housing committee assigned these to the school-buildings, lace-house, chapel, our own residences, and small hastily constructed shacks on the grounds. Our houses were filled from attic to wood-sheds, my house sheltering a hundred.

A supply committee bought and requisitioned provisions, commandeered the flour-mills and bakehouses, started a soup-kitchen and issued bread-tickets and soup-tickets. Miss Rogers and Miss Silliman secured a daily supply of milk, and set their school-girls the task of sterilizing and distributing it to the babies who needed food.

A foreign relations committee saw to it that the neutrality of American territory was not compromised. It forbade Armenian soldiers entering our gates unless they were willing to leave their arms outside. It even forbade the bringing of wounded soldiers to our hospital; they were taken instead to schoolhouses and dwelling-houses transformed into temporary hospitals, and I attended them there.

Every one was set to work at what he or she could do best and every one worked cheerfully and willingly, not even the most prominent men refusing tasks, however disagreeable, that were for the common good. A cheery, hopeful spirit prevailed. There was no mourning for the dead— none of the usual Oriental wailing. From the moment these people had known it was to be a struggle to the death they had raised their heads and said, "Better ten days' liberty and then death than to die the slaves we've been."

The supply of ammunition was small. Jewelers, tinsmiths, coppersmiths and blacksmiths set to work to increase it, turning out with the primitive tools at their command two thousand cartridges and case bullets a day. An Armenian professor, graduate of an American university, made smokeless powder. Unskilled labor built walls and dug trenches, often under fire. Women made uniforms and other garments for the soldiers and cooked for them. The normal school band marched about the city playing military airs where the fighting was hottest. Even young boys did their bit, and a big bit it was, too.

The previous fall my thirteen-year-old Neville, while reading "The Outlook," "St. Nicholas," and "Youth's Companion" had been inspired with the desire to become a Boy Scout. He translated the Scout Law into Armenian and induced ten boys of his own age to join him; they explained the Law to a teacher in the boys' school and persuaded him to become their Scout-Master, then secured a book on First Aid and studied it together.

These Boy Scouts now became the sanitary police and fire patrol of our little municipality. They kept the various buildings supplied with water for drinking purposes, and for use in case of fire, acted as messengers, reported the sick to me, and brought patients on litters to our hospital. They dug Turkish bullets out of the ground by the hundred and took them to the munition workers to melt and recast.

The Turks tunneled underground from the police barracks at Arark with the intention of coming up in the garden back of the Armenian lines at night and massacring the unarmed people. The Armenians were tunneling, too. The Armenian tunnel was right under the Turkish tunnel and once a Turk dropped through. Within five minutes the Armenians were in the police barracks and squirting kerosene around with syringes and squirt-guns, set fire to it. They thus excavated under and destroyed Hamoud Agha Kushla, the great barracks just north of us and the British Consulate, which had been made an important Turkish stronghold. Their own strongholds or "positions" numbered eighty.

Every effort was made by the Armenians to draw the Turkish fire without wasting their own ammunition. Some of their ruses furnished diversion and enlivened the gloom. Anything that would induce the people to laugh or rejoice was of exceeding value.

The main street ran direct from the Armenian lines to the walled city. One dark night the Armenians took a small dog and tied a lantern to its neck with a Christmas candle in it. Firing a pistol they started the dog running down the main street. The Turks, seeing a lantern moving away from the Armenian lines, thought a messenger was going to the walled city and cried, "Stop him! Stop him!" They fired volley after volley at the height of a man, but the dog ran on. Turks in the other positions about the city, hearing the rapid firing, surmised that either the Russians had come in or the Armenians had attacked in force and endeavored to draw off their fire. They too blazed away in the darkness, and before they learned that the cause of all this was only a dog, they had wasted many thousand rounds of ammunition.

Another night the Armenians tied a number of empty kerosene cans on the pack-saddle of a horse they had captured from a Turk. Again they started it down the main street, and it made noise enough for a hundred thousand men. The Turks fired at the noise and it is needless to say did not hit it. From the cannon on Castle Rock, which, as I have said, rose sheer three hundred feet above the walled city, forming its northern boundary, the Turks fired down on the Armenian quarter there, demolishing the upper stories of the houses. They threw down hand grenades, Greek fire, and three hundred and twenty pound bombs.

The first ones did considerable damage. Our evangelist, Vartan, had organized the defense, which was composed of sixty riflemen, and was indefatigable and fearless in moving about the city under fire and encouraging his men. He parceled off the city into little squares, appointing two women to each square. These watched day and night. The moment they heard the boom of the mortar on the Rock all-were on the qui-vive to see where the dreaded bomb would strike; when it struck a brave woman would run to it with a pitcher, pour water on the burning fuse, and snatch it out, and from these bombs the soldiers obtained the powder to reload their cartridges and keep up the fight. At the end of the second week of the siege they managed to send a messenger to their comrades in Aikesdan, to encourage the latter by informing them of their own success and by assuring them of their determination to hold out to the end.

The Armenians in Aikesdan elaborated and increased the number of their trenches. One day one of their first-line trenches, manned by forty-four soldiers, was taken by five hundred Kurds from Bitlis. These Kurds had been promised large rewards by Jevdet, and had been assured by their sheikhs that they were invulnerable.

In a trench about forty yards from the front was a young man named Aram Borozanjian. A year before the war he had come to me as a patient under the domination of a habit from which only the transforming power of God could release him. I had talked and prayed with him, and, with a simple and beautiful prayer, he had given himself to the Lord. He had joined the Red Cross training class the first winter of the war, had offered to help in our hospital without remuneration, and when the siege began had volunteered to care for the wounded in the first-line trenches.

Now, as he saw the defenders about to flee and the white-turbaned hordes sweeping onward, he dropped a bandage, snatched up a pistol, and, shouting to the Armenians to stand their ground, leaped upon the rampart and, fully exposed, dropped six of the Kurds. His comrades rallied and soon the Kurds, cowed by this exhibition of courage in the face of such odds, and panic-stricken by the discovery of their vulnerability, turned and fled, leaving thirty-three dead on the ground.

Just then the Turkish artillery opened fire and shrapnel struck Aram on the left hip, shattering his left side. Bits of antimony and tin were driven through his body and limbs and made frightfully painful, irritating wounds. Strange to say, he did not lose consciousness from the shock. He directed his companions how to stanch the blood; they put him on a stretcher and hurried with him to our American hospital. I had received word that he was coming, and met him at the operating-room door. He endeavored to reach for my hand, and smiling in my face he said: "O Doctor, I am so glad I learned to know Jesus and am ready to go. But please, Doctor, let me die quickly." I tried to keep him alive till his mother could be brought, but he was bleeding internally. Directing his companions to sell his pistol and give the proceeds to support his mother and sister for a little while, he passed away. He had saved the city—in this crisis. What hope was there for its future!

• The Huntchagist leaders were all in prison, however, at this time.

Chapter XIX

FUN FOR JEVDET BEY

I had known Jevdet Bey when he was a youth, had been his father's family physician, and we had always been on the most friendly terms. Our ladies had been charmed by the beauty, grace, and refinement of his wife, with whom they had exchanged calls shortly before the beginning of the war. She was a sister of Enver Pasha, Minister of War, was a New Woman as it befitted the sister and wife of Young Turks to be, and had found most irksome the restrictions of a Turkish woman's life in "the provinces." Jevdet Bey had proved himself past-master of the art of concealment and dissimulation. He had deceived even the Armenians as to his intentions; had pretended to take counsel with their leaders and to need their help up to the very hour of the murder of Ishkhan. Pleasant social relations between himself and the American missionaries had, up to the very last, been fostered both by ourselves for the sake of what influence we might have, and by him for his own purposes; we had even extended and he had accepted an invitation to tea at my house Friday afternoon, April 16. At the last moment he had sent word that he was too busy to come—we understood why the next day.

Now he threw off all disguise in his communications to us. It became clear from these and from the course of events that he had planned for April 19 a massacre of all the Armenians in the vilayet, and that our insistence on time to discuss among ourselves his offer of the guard for our premises had caused him to postpone the massacre in the city for twenty-four hours. It is quite probable that he thought this twenty-four hours' delay had been responsible for the effective defense. At all events, it was evident that the successful and prolonged resistance of the Armenians had been a tremendous surprise to him. He was enraged against them and enraged against us. He upbraided me with having sent out of my hospital the discharged Turkish patients I have mentioned on the eve of "Ikhtishosh" "Benevolent institutions should make no distinctions between races and religions"! He went on to say that armed men had been seen entering and leaving our premises; that he was about to attack the Armenian trenches in the plain below us; and if a single shot were fired from these trenches he would be regretfully compelled to turn all his artillery on our buildings and destroy them utterly.

These trenches on Varak plain, a quarter of a mile from our compound and southeast of it, were commanded by a very large Turkish barracks which was directly south of us. This barracks, the Hadji Bekir Cushla, commanded our buildings also, which were on a slight rise of ground so that nothing intervened between us and the Turkish guns. Our compound was also overlooked by a guardhouse on the summit of Toprak Kala Hill directly north of us. So central was our position with regard to the opposing forces that Turkish bullets flew constantly across our premises, peppering our walls and falling like hailstones on our roofs. Several of our refugees had already been wounded within our gates. I had written requesting Jevdet Bey to warn the soldiers in the Hadji Bekir Barracks to be careful of the direction of their fire, for there had been no firing from the direction of our premises.

The letter just quoted from was his answer (April 23) to this request. It had been preceded by two shells, one striking the wall of a porch in my house, but failing to explode, the other exploding harmlessly against a wall just north of my house. We wondered if these were meant to be an earnest of the threatened bombardment.

We replied that we had preserved the neutrality of our premises and no man with even a cartridge-belt on him had been permitted to enter our compound; that by no law could we be held responsible for what was done outside our property and beyond our control; and that his Government would be answerable to the American Government for any injury to our buildings.

Our first postman was another discharged Turkish patient. Our second an old woman who on her second trip was shot by Turkish soldiers because she failed to raise her white flag first in climbing out of a ditch into which she had fallen. Another old woman was the third messenger. Herr Spörri wrote describing what he had witnessed the morning of April 20 and asserting that Turkish soldiers had fired the first shot ofthat fateful day. Signer Sbordoni wrote Jevdet Bey that he could not expect the Armenians to surrender, as his attack had been an attempt to massacre them. We wrote asking information concerning Miss McLaren and Schwester Martha. To this Jevdet Bey vouchsafed no reply, though he wrote Herr Spörri later that Schwester Martha was well.

After a while the Armenian leaders said they would permit no more messages to pass through their lines, but not before a letter of Jevdet's to M. Aligardi, the Austrian banker, now staying with the Spörris, had given evidence of his personal animosity. He wrote that one of his officers had taken some Russian prisoners and cannon and he would cause them to parade in front of "His Majesty Dr. Ussher's fortifications, so that he, who with his rebels was always awaiting the Russians, should see them and be content."—The letter ended with the words, "Ishim yok, kefum chok—literally, "To me there is no work, but much pleasure" (or fun). The meaning of this phrase was that what he was doing was only fun for him, not work.

What was he doing? On Monday, the 19th, while he was assuring the people in Van that there would be no further molestation of Armenians, the sub-governor of Arjish (Agantz), the next largest town of the province, following his orders, summoned the prominent men of the place to the Government building on the pretense of important business. Then his soldiers collected the rest of the Armenian male inhabitants (two thousand five hundred) and after dark they were taken in groups of fifty with their hands tied behind them to the bank of the river and there slain. Three, feigning death, escaped at night from under the bodies of their companions. The women and children and property were divided among the Turks.

That Monday all the villages in the province were attacked by Jevdet Bey's soldiers and by Kurds under his command. Shadakh was unconquerable. Moks was protected by a Kurdish chief. Several villages held out as long as their ammunition lasted, but the rest made no resistance; they had lost most of their men by conscription, had no leaders, and were unable to cooperate. We have absolute proof that fifty-five thousand people were killed. Many thousand fled to the mountains and, hiding in caves, escaped death, having a better chance to do so because after a day or two Jevdet Bey had to withdraw his soldiers from the villages to aid in the siege of Van. Others tried to reach the city.

Sunday morning, April 25, at about four o'clock, there was a loud and prolonged pounding and knocking at the great double-leaved wooden gate of our compound. I went in bath-robe and slippers to the gate and found outside several hundred people from Haiots Tsore who had come by night fifteen miles along the mountain-tops to Shushantz, a village on Varak Mountain three miles from Van, plainly to be seen by us across Varak plain. The Armenians of Van had managed to keep open the road to Shushantz which was defended by bands of young villagers under the leadership of Kooyoumjian, Government superintendent of village schools. By this road, again at night, these refugees had entered the besieged city, bringing with them over a hundred wounded who begged admittance to our hospital. Sixty of these we took in at once, and operated on. Many of them were most horribly mutilated, little babies shattered—! We dressed the wounds of the rest and sent them to houses outside our compound, whence they could walk or be brought by others twice a week to our operating-room to be attended to.

This was but a beginning. After that there was a constant stream of refugees; stealthy at first; then Jevdet Bey changed his tactics and sent women and children in to help starve out the city. He also sent a large number of women and children to a desert island in the lake where they slowly starved.

Some of our patients had been protected and cared for by Kurds. One woman had fallen down the mountain and broken her thigh. A passing Kurd had taken her on his back, carried her up the mountain and laid her under the shelter of a haystack. Her children kept her supplied with snow, which was, with the exception of a few grass roots and flower bulbs, their only food for twenty days.

Another Kurd did the same thing for a wounded woman who had, before her marriage to a villager, been a nurse in our hospital. When she recovered sufficiently to walk she made her way to Shushantz; twice on the way she encountered Turks who stripped her of all her clothing; each time she was later given a garment by Armenian fugitives. On her way from Shushantz she was again stripped, came to the city stark naked, and died that night in our hospital, bequeathing to us her orphan children.

One patient, a young man, had been hidden by a Kurd in his own house for a while disguised in woman's clothing. Such instances could doubtless be multiplied many times. These Kurds were kind at much risk to themselves, since Jevdet Bey had, as I have related, threatened with dire penalties any Moslem who should harbor a Christian.

One mother ran ahead with her two older children, and the father followed with his two-year-old baby boy in his arms and his little six-year-old daughter on his back, each in a short shirt only, just as they were snatched from bed at daybreak. The father was shot down and the mother, not daring to risk her older children by delay, screamed to the little ones, thrown to the ground by their father's fall, to "come on." The little girl, who was small for her age, took her two-year-old brother on her back, carried him seven miles up the mountain, through the snow, barefoot, lay out on the plain with him in the biting cold all night, and followed the other refugees into the city before dawn. Mrs. Ussher found them huddled against the wall at our garden gate, shivering and crying softly. They had been a day and a half without food. She brought them in, fed, bathed and clothed them, and later their mother was found. We heard her shrieking early one morning at our gate, "Oh, will God ever forgive me? Will God ever forgive me for leaving my children behind?"

When the refugees in our premises heard of the condition of those worse off than themselves, they took up a collection of twenty-six hundred dollars in less than two hours and formed committees to adopt and care for the orphan children who were streaming in.

They brought bedding to our hospital for the new patients. This was put on the floor in every available bit of space, so that my fifty-bed hospital was made to accommodate one hundred and sixty-seven. I remember that three hundred at one time were coming regularly to have their wounds dressed; how many came thus during the entire siege I cannot remember; their number far exceeded three hundred. Several of my Red Cross class of the previous fall were nursing in the temporary hospitals to which the Armenian soldiers were removed; the rest worked in our own. The single ladies of our American circle also helped here and in an improvised infirmary containing thirty children.

The village refugees, who before long numbered fifteen thousand, greatly added to the difficulties of the whole situation. Some had brought provision with them or had relatives who took them in and cared for them. To twelve thousand the supply committee issued a daily ration—a very small ration it had to be. Many had had no food during their wanderings and died of starvation soon after entering the city. The exposure and hardships all had undergone, the overcrowding in the besieged city, the insufficient food, made them easy victims of disease. Pneumonia, dysentery, typhoid, and smallpox were very prevalent; and for all these sick and for the wounded there was but one physician— myself. Working from before sunrise till midnight day after day, I could not attend all who needed me.

Mrs. Ussher felt that some of these sick people must have better care than they could get in their crowded quarters, and our hospital was overfull. For her sake the refugees in a schoolhouse outside our grounds were removed to various other places, and sick women taken in. Here she and Miss Rogers, with very little in the way of equipment, bedding, food, and, after a week, for a reason that will appear later, little help, bathed, fed, and tended the poor, neglected creatures.

The Boy Scouts extended their activities. They collected all the large bottles they could find and sterilized them, filled them with milk which Mrs. Ussher sterilized, and with their pockets full of boiled eggs went about the town, doling out the milk to the starved babies and the eggs to starving women; often feeding the babies themselves to give the mothers a chance to satisfy their own hunger.

One day, while two of them were at their regular task of hunting for Turkish bullets, Neville, jumping into a large hole, stepped on "something soft which made a noise and scared" him. He groped for it and found it was a little child. A mother had come there with her two children and put them into the hole to keep them out of the cold wind; then she lay down close by and died. Bearers carried her away, but did not see the children. They were of course too weak to crawl out or to call for help and were nearly dead. The boys had their staffs with them; they took off their coats, made a litter, and carried the babies to the hospital.