April 24, 1915

“Our strength lies in our intensive attacks and our barbarity...After all, who today remembers the genocide of the Armenians?” Adolf Hitler

(I would like to thank my grandpa H, a former Air Force historian, for taking the time to create a written family history about the genocide. I am proud to say I sourced a huge chunk of the content below from his documents).

Just under 100 years ago today, after decades of strained relationship between Armenia and Turkey, the Turks decided to deport the entire Armenian population by marching them into the deserts of Syria, Mesopotamia (Iran, Iraq), and Arabia. During the march, many people were tortured and killed in ways far too upsetting and numerous to list. Some simply died from heat exhaustion and starvation. As many as 1.5 million Armenians perished. But some, like my grandfather's family, survived.

On July 13, 1915, the six villages of Musa Dagh (The Mountain of Moses) received a summons from the Turkish government. They were told to prepare themselves for deportation in eight days. The villagers were well aware of what had happened during earlier Armenian deportations and the majority decided to resist (those who didn't were never heard from again). They gathered all their animals, farm tools, food, and available weapons. They then climbed to the top of the mountain in a single day. Trenches were dug, barricades erected, and sharp shooters placed at strategic locations.

When the eight-day grace period expired and the Turks realized the villagers were not going to abide by the deportation ruling, they decided to invade. The first attack occurred on August 8 but failed. The Turks regrouped and gathered a force of 3,000 soldiers. Although they were only 400 yards from the villagers, the forces were separated by a deep and impassable ravine. The meager Armenian fighting force of about 650 men took advantage of the situation. They surrounded the Turkish forces and engaged them in hand-to-hand combat. In the mass confusion, the Turks were ordered to retreat and by morning, the entire area was free of Turkish forces.

In spite of the villagers success in warding off the Turks, they became worried about the future. How long could they hold out? What would be the final outcome? With hordes of Turks surrounding the landward side of the Mount and with food suplies almost exhausted, the only realistic salvation for escape was by sea. The villagers began to devise a plan.

A group of well-trained observers were immediately placed sea-side to scan the Mediterranean for ships in the area. Skilled swimmers were also on hand and ready to swim to and board nearby ships with a petition pleading for immediate aid and assistance. And two oversized white flags were fabricated, one with a large red cross and the other with large black lettering reading: WE ARE ARMENIANS. HELP US. The two flags were attached to the two tallest trees facing seaward.

Days later, the French cruiser, Guichen, while patrolling the northern shore of Syria under the blockade imposed by the allies (remember this was in the thick of WW I), was sighted and responded to the flag. The ship's captain contacted the Admiral of the appropriately-named Jeanne D'Arc and within 24 hours, she and another French cruiser arrived on the scene. Eventually three other ships joined them (one of them British). And in the early morning hours of September 10, 4,092 men, women, and children boarded the ships and headed for a temporary refugee camp in Port Said, Egypt.

Seven members of my family, including my great-grandmother and two of her children, were rescued from Musa Dagh. Three additional family members, all males and of draft age, had fled to South America in 1911 to avoid being conscripted in the Turkish army. One of them, my great-grandfather Zakaria, had already been forcibly conscripted by the Turks and had no interest in being drafted again. Eventually the family regrouped and relocated to New Britain, Connecticut where most of my grandfather's family still lives to this day. Amazingly and sadly, only one family member did not survive the ordeal, my grandfather's older sister, Armenouhi. She died of malnutrition between the ages of two and three in the Port Said refugee camp.