TNT History Mini-Series: A Turk Behind Russian Lines on the Danube Front (1877)/Part III

//Ed. note: Having crossed over to the Russian side near 
Ruschuk to deliver a message to Grand Duke Nicholas,
İzzet Fuat is held at a Russian forward outpost pending
the Grand Duke's permission to proceed to his HQS.  

At the same time, İzzet Fuat knows that the Ottoman Army
intends to launch an attack in the morning and he remains
stuck directly in the line of fire.//


Caption reads: "Turks storing cartridges in a mosque in Ruschuk."

After the Russian general looked over the letter from our commander
(Mehmet Ali Paşa-Ludwig Karl Friedrich Detroit) he said: "Sir, this
letter is quite nice but I must first send a telegram to the Grand Duke.
Until I receive an order from the commander instructing me to send
you forward I must keep you here."  In reply, I said "If you will permit
it, we will return to our army and come back here tomorrow, for sure."

The general, though, said that the matter was in the hands of the Grand
Duke and with a "bonjour" he exited the tent.   I thought that perhaps I
should have been more insistent about leaving but, then again, such a
posture on my part might have given the Russian general reason to
suspect the impending attack from our side tomorrow. 

Consequently, we had no choice but to remain at the Russian outpost.

I can say that at that moment I had the most wondrous feeling of 

excitement I'd ever felt in my life, facing danger head-on.  And yet,

dying at the hands of my own comrades-in-arms, under our own
cannon balls and bullets, was indeed a sobering thought.  

So Hacı and I faced a very restless night ahead.  The constant flow of

Russian officers coming by to visit us, each one of them with a story to 

tell, made the night, fueled by the cups of tea they offered, drag on 

endlessly.  Since Hacı didn't understand French nor Russian, he spent 

his time in continuous prayer, asking God to have our commander 

re-think his attack plan for tomorrow.  

I left the tent a bit after midnight and looked toward our great army's

encampment, which we had left earlier in the day.  The thought of this

parcel of my homeland and the shining bayonets there made me long

to be back.  But now in this place, lit by the sad moonlight and with 

tents all around, I listened to the guards' calls to each other from one

outpost to another, mixed in with the frightening sounds of the night 

birds' chirping.  Who knew what tomorrow would bring to this corner 

of the universe, how many bodies would be strewn about.  Right now, 

both armies and their anonymous heroes were quiet.

I went back into the tent, having quelled my anxieties, and saw that 

Hacı was fast asleep.  Our stream of visitors had left so I felt I had the

right to get some sleep myself and stretched out on bed of sweet-

smelling grass.  But within an hour I awoke, feeling a crab-like creature 

biting my leg.  Not having an affinity for any animals other than dogs

and horses, and bearing an unnatural fear of vermin, I jumped out of

the tent like a crazy man.  It turned out that it wasn't  a crab or some

such creature but, rather, Hacı's wiry hands! In any case, the air grew

heavy and I could hear sounds like cannon fire from afar.  Apparently,

that's what had awakened me.


Caption reads: "The Cossack Imperial Guard leading the 
advance into Turkey in 1877."

//END of PART III//