No Blood-for-Blood

Abstract

On out first day, we went up the Gabar Mountain. I had a friend who was a noncommissioned officer from Çankiri. He got me into his team, and looked out for me. They were firing bullets and cannons to see how the newcomers would react. When we were all standing in one area, cannon balls went off, and everyone ducked for their lives. I stood still, I did not run away. When you are in the artillery, you don’t need to go to the frontlines of the fighting because the artillery can hit from up to ten kilometers away. Ordinarily, there is a basic training camp for artillery, but that is not how I ended up in the artillery unit. I became an artillery man, when a noncommissioned officer whom I knew, enlisted me there, saying, “This way, you won’t go off to operations; you will often be inside.” The training we got in Amasya was minimal. After the training, we virtually knew nothing. I had merely shot three bullets. I knew that 70 percent of us would end up in the Southeast. A week before the deployment lottery, I called home saying I was off to Şirnak, but they did not believe me. I was just kidding, but it turned out to be true: I picked Şirnak! My family was of course very upset … they were crushed. But, I had to go.