then, after a couple of days walk, to the shores of the Euphrates
River. It was around noon when we got there and we camped. For
a while, we were left alone. Sometime later, Turkish gendarmes
came over and grabbed all the boys from 5 to 10 years old. I was
about 7 or 8. They grabbed me too. They threw us all
into a pile on the sandy beach and started
jabbing us with their swords and bayonets. I
must’ve been in the center because only one sword got me…
nipped my cheek… here, my cheek. But, I couldn’t cry. I was
covered with blood from the other bodies on top of me, but I
couldn’t cry. If had, I would not be here today.
When it was getting dark, my grandmother found me. She picked
me up and consoled me. It hurt so much. I was crying and she put
me on her shoulder and walked around.
Then, some of the other parents came looking for their children.
They mostly found dead bodies. The river bank there was very
sandy. Some of them dug graves with their bare hands-shallow
graves-and tried to bury their children in them. Others, just pushed
them into the river, they pushed them into the Euphrates. Their
little bodies floated away.
