Statements by two Swiss Ladies, resident in Turkey. Communicated
by the American Committee for Armenian and Syrian Relief.
(a) Report by Fräulein M., dated 16th November, 1915.
I have just returned from a ride on horseback through the
Baghtché-Osmania plain, where thousands of exiles are lying out in
the fields and on the roads, without any shelter and completely at
the mercy of all manner of brigands. Last night, about 12 o'clock,
a little camp was suddenly attacked. There were between 50 and 60
persons in it. I found men and women badly wounded--bodies slashed
open, broken skulls and terrible knife-wounds. Fortunately I was
provided with clothes, so I could change their blood-soaked things
and then bring them to the next inn, where they were nursed. Many
of them were so much exhausted from the enormous loss of blood that
they died, I fear, in the meantime. In another camp we found thirty
or forty thousand Armenians. I was able to distribute bread among
them! Desperate, and half-starved, they fell upon it; several times
I was almost pulled off my horse. A number of corpses were lying
about unburied, and it was only by bribing the gendarmes that we
could induce them to allow their burial. Usually the Armenians
were not allowed to perform the last offices of love for their
relatives. Dreadful epidemics of typhoid-fever broke out everywhere;
there was a victim of it practically in every third tent. Nearly
everything had to be transported on foot; men, women and children
carried their few belongings on their backs. I often saw them
break down under their burden, but the soldiers kept on driving them
forward with the butt-ends of their rifles, even sometimes with their
bayonets. I have dressed bleeding wounds on the bodies of women
that had been caused by these bayonet thrusts. Many children had
lost their parents and were now without any support. Three hours'
distance from Osmania two dying men were lying absolutely alone in
the fields. They had been here for days without food or even a drop
of water, after their companions had continued their march. They had
grown as thin as skeletons, and only their heavy breathing showed that
there was still life in them. Unburied women and children were lying
in the ditches. The Turkish officials in Osmania were very obliging;
I succeeded in obtaining many concessions from them, and many hardships
were remedied. I obtained carriages to pick up the dying people and
bring them in to town.
(b) Report by Fräulein O. on a visit to the exiles' camp at Mamouret,
26th November, 1915.
We saw thousands of tiny low tents, made of thin material. An
innumerable crowd of people, of all ages and every class of
society! They were looking at us partly in surprise, partly with the
indifference of desperation. A group of hungry, begging children
and women were at our heels: "Hanoum, bread! Hanoum, I am hungry;
we have had nothing to eat to-day or yesterday!"
You had only to look at the greedy, pale, suffering faces to know that
their words were true. About 1,800 loaves could be procured. Everybody
fell greedily upon them; the priests who were charged with the
distribution of the bread had almost to fight for their lives; but
it was by no means sufficient, and no further bread was to be had. A
crowd of hungry people stood imploringly before us. The gendarmerie
had to keep them back by force. Suddenly the order for departure
was given. If anybody was slow in striking their tent, it was torn
down with the bayonet. Three carriages and a number of camels were
held in readiness. A few wealthy people quickly hired the carriages,
while others less well-to-do loaded a camel with their things. The
wailing of the poor, the old and the sick filled the air: "We can't
go any further, let us die here." But they had to go on. We were at
least able to pay for a camel for some of them, and to give small
change to others in order to buy bread at the next station; clothes,
sewn at the Mission Station in Adana, were also distributed. Soon the
immense procession was moving on. Some of the most miserable were left
behind (others rested there already in the newly-dug graves). As many
as 200--destitute, old or sick--are said to have waited there for
help to come. The misery was increased a hundredfold by the severe
rain and cold that had set in. Everywhere convoys left dying people
in their track--little children and invalids perishing. Besides all
this the epidemic was spreading more and more.
(c) Report by Fräulein M. on a visit to the exiles' camp at Islohia,
1st December, 1915.
It had rained three days and three nights; even in our houses we were
acutely sensible of the cold and damp. As soon as possible, I set out
on my way. About 200 families had been left behind at Mamouret. They
were unable to proceed through exhaustion or illness. In this rain the
soldiers, too, felt no inclination to rouse them up and drive them
on, so they were lying about in what might have been a lake. There
was not a single dry thread left in their ragged bedding. Many women
had their feet frost-bitten; they were quite black and in a state
for amputation. The wailing and groaning was horrible. Everywhere
there were dying people in their last agonies or dead bodies lying in
front of the tents. It was only by "bakshish" that the soldiers could
be persuaded to bury them. It seemed a comfort to them when we came
with dry clothes; they could change their things and get some bread
and small change. Then I drove in a carriage along the whole route to
Islohia. Though I had seen much distress before, the objects and the
scenes I saw here defy description. A frailly-built woman was sitting
by the roadside with her bedding on her back, and a young baby strapped
on at the top of it; in her arms she had a two-year-old child--its eyes
were dim and it was at its last gasp. The woman had broken down in
her distress and was weeping in a heartbreaking way. I took her with
me to the next camp, where the child died; then I took care of her
and sent her on her way. She was so grateful. The whole carriage was
packed with bread. I kept on distributing all the time. We had three
or four opportunities of buying fresh supplies. These thousands of
loaves were a great help to us. I was also able to hire some hundreds
of animals to help the poor people forward. The camp at Islohia itself
is the saddest thing I have ever seen. Right at the entrance a heap
of dead bodies lay unburied. I counted 35, and in another place 22,
in the immediate neighbourhood of the tents of those who were down with
virulent dysentery. The filth in and around these tents was something
indescribable. On one single day the burial committee buried as many
as 580 people. Men were fighting for bread like hungry wolves. One
saw hideous scenes. With what timidity and apathy these poor people
often stared at me, as though they wondered where this assistance
came from! For some weeks now many camps have been provided daily
with bread. Of course, everything has to be done as unobtrusively as
possible. We are so thankful to God that we may at least do something.
(d) Letter from Fräulein M. to Mr. N., dated 13th December, 1915,
on the way to Aleppo.
I should have written long before this, but during these last weeks
I have been more on the road than at home, and the work in the camps
was often so urgent that I could not find time for anything else. I
suppose you have had, in the meantime, the receipt for the 200 liras
you sent me. Many thanks for the quick response. I only wish you could
see these poor people yourself; you would get an impression of the
absolutely dreadful need and distress that these camps conceal. It is
simply indescribable; one has to have seen it oneself. So far I have
had no difficulty whatever; on the contrary, the officials here are
most obliging, and grateful for everything we are doing for the poor
people. You will find some reports enclosed which Miss O. copied for
you as well; they will give you an idea of what we are doing here. Up
to the present we have worked in four camps, twelve hours distant. We
were often able to distribute about 10 to 20 liras' worth of bread
a day; besides this, we gave flour, clothes and nirra to many sick
people, to help them on the long journey. Sometimes it happened that
in some places we did not have nearly enough bread--in such cases we
provided the people with money to buy bread at the next bakery along
the route.
Now we are on our way to Aleppo, and Miss O. will stay there
some weeks, D.V., to prepare everything for another journey to
Der-el-Zor. I intend to come back soon, since there is still much
work to do on the Mamouret-Islohia route, and it seems to me that we
ought not to give up the work among the distressed so long as any of
them are left in this place, for if we did they would absolutely die
of starvation. Judging by our recent experience, we shall need about
300 to 400 liras a month. Dr. L. told me to send you word about this,
because I should get the money from you. It would be better not to stop
the work for lack of money, because the poor people would suffer by
it. If, however, you think that less money ought to be spent, or that
the whole work should be given up, please send me a telegram in time,
so that we may stop doing it. If not, will you please be so kind as
to send me the amount. To-day I have asked you by wire to send me
400 liras--200 for Mamouret and 200 for Islohia-Hassan-Beyli.
I hope you are well. We got a message that Dr. L. is down with
typhoid. I hope that God will soon give him new strength. Fräulein
O. and I both send you our best wishes.