WHERE AND WHEN THE FIRES WERE LIGHTED
It was after this complete gutting of the Armenian portion of the
town that the Turkish soldiers applied the torch to numerous houses
simultaneously. As has already been mentioned, they chose a moment when
a strong wind was blowing directly away from the Mohammedan settlement.
They started the conflagration directly behind the Intercollegiate
Institute, one of the oldest and most thorough American schools in
Turkey, in such a way that the building would be sure to fall an early
prey to the flames. The pupils of that school have always been largely
Armenian girls, and its buildings were, at that time, crowded with
refugees. Miss Minnie Mills, its dean, a brave, competent and admirable
lady, saw Turkish soldiers go into various Armenian houses with petroleum
tins and in each instance after they came out, flames burst forth. In
a conversation held with me on the thirtieth of January, 1925, on the
occasion of the Missionary Convention that took place in the City of
Washington, Miss Mills confirmed the above statements and added the
following details:
“I could plainly see the Turks carrying the tins of petroleum
into the houses, from which, in each instance, fire burst forth
immediately afterward. There was not an Armenian in sight, the
only persons visible being Turkish soldiers of the regular army
in smart uniforms.”
On the same occasion Mrs. King Birge, wife of an American missionary to
Turkey, made the following statement:
“I went up into the tower of the American College at Paradise,
and, with a pair of field-glasses, could plainly see Turkish
soldiers setting fire to houses. I could see Turks lurking in
the fields, shooting at Christians. When I drove down to Smyrna
from Paradise to Athens, there were dead bodies all along the
road.”
During the same conversation Miss Mills told me of a great throng of
Christians crowded into a street the head of which was guarded by Turkish
soldiers. The flames were approaching and the soldiers were forcing these
people to go into the houses. An American automobile passed and the poor
wretches stretched out their hands, crying: “Save us! The Turks are going
to burn us alive.” Nothing could be done, of course, and the car passed
on. Later two Catholic priests came up and said to the Turks, “This is a
fiendish thing you are doing,” and they allowed an old woman to come out
of one of the houses.
It will be seen that the situation was such that only the Turks were in
position to light the flames. Now we have the testimony of eye-witnesses
of the highest credibility who actually saw them commit the act. I
remember on various occasions in the past talking with Miss Mills
concerning Turkish atrocities which were continually occurring and the
missionary policy of remaining silent for fear of endangering the lives
of colleagues working in the interior of Asia Minor. “I believe,” said
she, “that the time for that policy has passed and not even regard for
the safety of our workers should prevent us from telling the truth.” She
was right, of course, for a full understanding of what has been going on
in Turkey by the civilized world might have caused such a development
of Christian sentiment as might have led to the taking of measures to
prevent the wholesale horrors that have been perpetrated.
The following extract from a letter written by a lady connected with the
American missions in Turkey has recently fallen into my hands. It is
dated September 21, 1922, and was sent to a friend in the United States:
“Our Murray house across the street was locked up and protected
only by an American flag hung from an upper window, but we
had several Marines from the American destroyers with us who
behaved splendidly all through and were a great comfort to
us. Of course we had many trying things during the time we
were there together, from Saturday, September ninth, until
Wednesday, thirteenth, when we left, because the place was
on fire. Most of the people who had fled to us for refuge
behaved wonderfully patiently under the lack of bread and many
difficulties. We had eighty small babies and one born there.
We organized a hospital, etc., and had gotten the commissariat
running with the difficulty overcome, as we supposed, of lack
of bread.
“All ovens in the Christian quarters, where we were, at least,
and probably everywhere, had been ordered closed from Sunday
until Wednesday, when the city burned. It looks now to me like
a definite attempt to starve the population out.
“The Red Cross insisted on ovens being opened for them and the
people were then burned out.
“The looting and murder went on steadily under our eyes—a
murdered man lay before our Murray house door for days, under
the American flag, his blood spattered over our steps, etc.
There were dead and dying every where. The silence of death
finally reigned over us and was broken during the last three
days only by the fierce Chetas breaking in doors of houses,
shooting the poor cowering inhabitants, looting, etc., and at
night the howling of homeless dogs and the feet of wandering
horses clanging over the rough stones of the street. After the
third day of the occupation of Khemal’s army, fires began to
break out in the Christian quarter of the city. Miss Mills and
some of our teachers saw soldiers preparing fires. I myself saw
a Cheta carrying a load of firewood on his back up an alley,
from which later on the fire that caught our building came.
“It is quite clear in my mind that there was a definite plan to
burn out the Christian quarter after it had been looted. The
time for starting the great fire was when the wind was blowing
away from the Turkish quarter. I remarked when the fires began:
‘I am sure the Turkish authorities will say one of two things,
either that the retreating Greek army set the city on fire, or
the Armenians.’ Exactly this has been published in Italian and
French papers. _Do not believe a word of it!_ We were in the
Christian quarter where the fires began. Almost all Armenians
except those we were sheltering had been looted and killed
a day or two—even longer—before any fires began. The Greek
soldiers had passed quietly through the suburbs about three or
four days before.
“The whole city had been completely under military control
since Saturday afternoon and the fires began on Wednesday which
finally destroyed the city. The Turks, Chetas or regulars,
or both, burned the city to dispose of the dead after having
carried away their loot.”
The writer of this letter is neither Armenian nor Greek and is a person
of the highest repute. I do not agree with the reason stated in it for
the burning of Smyrna.
The torch was applied to that ill-fated city and it was all
systematically burned by the soldiers of Mustapha Khemal in order to
exterminate Christianity in Asia Minor and to render it impossible for
the Christians to return.
By the time the Turkish soldiers had set fire to Smyrna, September 13,
1922, I had succeeded in getting hold of practically all of my colony
(about three hundred in number) most of them naturalized citizens. These,
together with their families and relatives were huddled in the _Theatre
de Smyrne_, on the quay, owned by a naturalized American citizen. Just
across the road was the harbor where the American cruiser, the _Simpson_,
was moored, ready to take them off. There was a guard of bluejackets with
a machine-gun inside the theater.
Soon after the conflagration took on serious proportions, I went up on
the terrace of the Consulate to look. The spectacle was one of vast dark
clouds of smoke, arising from a wide area, for the fire had been started
simultaneously in many places.
As it was evident that the time was fast approaching when it would be
necessary to evacuate the colony, I was kept very busy during those few
remaining lurid hours in signing passes for such as were entitled to
American protection and transportation to Piræus.
The flames consumed the Armenian quarter with such appalling rapidity as
to make it certain that the Turks were augmenting them with inflammable
fluids. Bluejackets sent to the scene reported that they saw Turkish
soldiers throwing rags soaked in petroleum into Armenian houses.
The buildings of Smyrna were much more inflammable than they appeared at
a casual glance. The city had suffered in times past from earthquakes
and the stone and plaster walls contained a skeleton of wooden beams and
timbers to prevent their being easily shaken down. When a wall became
very hot from a contiguous fire these wooden timbers caught inside the
plaster and the masonry crumbled. As the conflagration spread and swept
on down toward the quay where were the beautiful and well-built offices
and warehouses of the great foreign merchants and the residences of the
rich Levantines, Greeks and Armenians, the people poured in a rapidly
increasing flood to the water-front, old, young, women, children, sick
and well. Those who were unable to walk were carried on stretchers, or on
the shoulders of relatives.
The aged Doctor Arghyropolos, long a well-known figure on the streets of
Smyrna, being ill, was brought down on a stretcher to the quay where he
died.
The last Miltonic touch was now added to a scene of vast, unparalleled
horror and human suffering. These thousands were crowded on a narrow
street between the burning city and the deep waters of the bay.
The question has been frequently asked, “What efforts were made to put
out the fire at Smyrna?” I did not see any such efforts. If the Turks
did anything along this line it was merely the sporadic attempt of some
petty officer who had not been informed. What measures they took for
saving the American consular building have already been described.
Great clouds of smoke were by this time beginning to pour down upon the
Consulate. The crowd in the street before this building, as well as that
upon the quay, was now so dense that the commanding naval officer told me
that in ten minutes more I should not be able to get through. The hour
had struck for me to evacuate my colony, to find some refuge for it in a
Christian country, and to find means for its temporary sustenance.
I was profoundly stirred by the plight of these people and was determined
that they should get the kindest, most generous and patient treatment
possible. I therefore loaded a few trunks into a waiting automobile, as
well as a few bundles of my fine collection of rugs, which fortunately
were lying packed up, waiting to be taken out of their casings for winter
use, grabbed whatever was dearest to me that happened to be in sight, and
with my wife and a Greek servant started for the quay and the waiting
destroyer.
The naval officers and men acted with the greatest efficiency and both
myself and wife were treated with extreme courtesy. In the somewhat
difficult task of getting us through the frantic crowds and on to the
launch, the young native-born Americans were also cool-headed and
capable. There was great danger of the launch being rushed and swamped by
the desperate, terrified people swarming the wharf. One frightened man
who jumped into it was thrown into the sea by a young American. He was
promptly fished out again and went away ashamed and very wet. It was this
incident, happening at a psychological moment, and the determined guard
kept by bluejackets and a few native-born Americans which enabled us to
embark and get away.
The last view of the ill-fated town by daylight was one of vast
enveloping clouds rolling up to heaven, a narrow water-front covered with
a great throng of people—an ever-increasing throng, with the fire behind
and the sea before, and a powerful fleet of inter-allied battle-ships,
among which were two American destroyers, moored a short distance from
the quay and looking on.
As the destroyer moved away from the fearful scene and darkness
descended, the flames, raging now over a vast area, grew brighter and
brighter, presenting a scene of awful and sinister beauty. Historians and
archeologists have declared that they know of but one event in the annals
of the world which can equal in savagery, extent and all the elements
of horror, cruelty and human suffering, the destruction of Smyrna and
its Christian population by the Turks, and this was the demolition of
Carthage by the Romans.
Certainly at Smyrna, nothing was lacking in the way of atrocity, lust,
cruelty and all that fury of human passion which, given their full play,
degrade the human race to a level lower than the vilest and cruelest of
beasts. For during all this diabolical drama the Turks robbed and raped.
Even the raping can be understood as an impulse of nature, irresistible
perhaps, when passions are running wild among a people of low mentality
and less civilization, but the repeated robbing of women and girls can
be attributed neither to religious frenzy nor to animal passions. One of
the keenest impressions which I brought away with me from Smyrna was a
feeling of shame that I belonged to the human race.
At the destruction of Smyrna there was one feature for which Carthage
presents no parallel. There was no fleet of Christian battle-ships at
Carthage looking on at a situation for which their governments were
responsible. There were no American cruisers at Carthage.
The Turks were glutting freely their racial and religious lust for
slaughter, rape and plunder within a stone’s throw of the Allied and
American battle-ships because they had been systematically led to
believe that they would not be interfered with. A united order from the
commanders or from any two of them—one harmless shell thrown across the
Turkish quarter—would have brought the Turks to their senses.
And this, the presence of those battle-ships in Smyrna harbor, in the
year of our Lord 1922, impotently watching the last great scene in the
tragedy of the Christians of Turkey, was the saddest and most significant
feature of the whole picture.