Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- Death Begins with the Loss of Our Cities…
- Are You Going to Be a Killer?
- An Idea Whose Time Has Come
- Your Decision
- Dogs Smelling Blood on a Hunt
- The Meaning of This Empire for Us
- Confronting Death
- The Ancient Wound
- The Essence of the State
- Becoming the Hunted
- Like Two Wistful Flowers
- The World's Greatest Mystery
- The Love That Will Never Fade
- What Does a Single Individual Matter?
- A Game of Revenge
- The Motherland Is Lost
- The Only Thing Keeping Me Alive
- No Intention of Surrendering
- A Man's Word Is His Honour
- An Inappropriate Sense of Compassion
- A Token of a Conversation
- I Am Not the One to Decide
- Miracles
- The Ability to Forgive Ourselves
- Losing One's Humanity
- No Choice But to Fight
- Give Me an Honourable Death
- The Walking Dead
- Save Yourself, Soldier
- Wishing for Help from the Dead
- Resign, Your Excellency!
- A False Sense of Security
- The True Power in the Land
- Betrothed to Life, Married to Death
- When the Wolf Dies in the Forest
- This Is Not Ankara
- Vultures Circling Over an Old Man
- Ignoble Alliances
- A Betrayal of Their Own History
- Fighting for a Lost Cause
- Evil Stalks This Land
- A Malevolent Rain
- A Fragmented Homeland, a Disintegrating World
- Turning Us All into Killers
- When I Began Losing My Country
- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland
- Glossary
The Ancient Wound
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- Death Begins with the Loss of Our Cities…
- Are You Going to Be a Killer?
- An Idea Whose Time Has Come
- Your Decision
- Dogs Smelling Blood on a Hunt
- The Meaning of This Empire for Us
- Confronting Death
- The Ancient Wound
- The Essence of the State
- Becoming the Hunted
- Like Two Wistful Flowers
- The World's Greatest Mystery
- The Love That Will Never Fade
- What Does a Single Individual Matter?
- A Game of Revenge
- The Motherland Is Lost
- The Only Thing Keeping Me Alive
- No Intention of Surrendering
- A Man's Word Is His Honour
- An Inappropriate Sense of Compassion
- A Token of a Conversation
- I Am Not the One to Decide
- Miracles
- The Ability to Forgive Ourselves
- Losing One's Humanity
- No Choice But to Fight
- Give Me an Honourable Death
- The Walking Dead
- Save Yourself, Soldier
- Wishing for Help from the Dead
- Resign, Your Excellency!
- A False Sense of Security
- The True Power in the Land
- Betrothed to Life, Married to Death
- When the Wolf Dies in the Forest
- This Is Not Ankara
- Vultures Circling Over an Old Man
- Ignoble Alliances
- A Betrayal of Their Own History
- Fighting for a Lost Cause
- Evil Stalks This Land
- A Malevolent Rain
- A Fragmented Homeland, a Disintegrating World
- Turning Us All into Killers
- When I Began Losing My Country
- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland
- Glossary
Summary
Good Morning, Ester (Morning, Day 3)
The strange thing is I woke up quite early today, even though it was nearly midnight when I finally went to sleep last night. What's more, I had weird dreams the whole night. In one, I was on a boat with Resneli Niyazi going to France. We were supposed to be going there to shoot an English general but it turned out the person we were really going to shoot was our own Enver Paşa and it was not actually Niyazi Bey I was with but our movement's own intrepid marksman, Yakup Cemil, somebody with whom I have never really got on, to tell the truth. But that was the dream, anyway, and that is when I woke up. Not in a film of cold sweat but with an inexplicable sense of delight, despite the bizarreness of my nocturnal visions. I used to feel the same joy during my high school years when getting on the train at Sirkeci that would take me to Salonika and straight to you. It was surprising, as it had been some time since I had felt such happiness. After relentless despondency, one begins to fear hope, but life, even if one does not lift a finger, has a way of filling a man's heart with joy.
I took a bath first, then got dressed and went downstairs to breakfast. Even bumping into the swarm of tourists that had arrived on the Orient Express yesterday could not dampen my spirits. With his usual swiftness and foresight, Ihsan, the hotel restaurant's head waiter, had the corner table set aside for me, granting me some reprieve from that group of noisy tourists. I may have put on some weight of late but this morning I was ravenous and I feasted on a sumptuous breakfast of eggs, honey and milk. As I was chewing on the last bite, the fat man that was fumbling around outside my door yesterday evening entered the dining area. He was looking for an empty table, and when he saw me, he was startled but quickly pulled himself together and bowed his head lightly in acknowledgement. I accepted his greeting and even smiled in response, but when Ihsan approached my table, I had to ask.
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- Information
- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland , pp. 67 - 82Publisher: Anthem PressPrint publication year: 2019