Eastern Nights - and Flights: A Record of Oriental Adventure.Bott, Alan
History
Eastern Nights - and Flights: A Record of Oriental Adventure.
Bott, Alan
World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, English; World War, 1914-1918 -- Prisoners and prisons, Turkish
Yet, as a rule, the period of melancholia soon passed, and gave place
to resigned acceptance of the trivial and monotonous daily round of
prison life. This more or less sane view of things was only made
possible by improvised distractions, by reading, and by the discussion
of the thousand-and-one rumours that spread from the bazaars. Time and
again it would be whispered by some Greek trader that Talaat Pasha was
negotiating a separate peace and had agreed to open the Dardanelles, or
that war was about to be declared between Turkey and Bulgaria as a
result of the Dobrudja dispute, or that Enver Pasha had been
assassinated, or that the Sultan was determined to rid himself of the
Young Turk government. We knew well that these reports were untrue and
scarce worth even the attention of bitter laughter; but since we wanted
them to be true they would be discussed with gravity over the
mess-tables until the next batch of newspapers proved their falsity.
The most useful means to forgetfulness was the camp library. Many
hundreds of books were sent to the prison-camps of Turkey by various
societies and individual sympathizers in England. It was at
Afion-kara-Hissar that I first found the courage and concentration
necessary to read through each and every consecutive volume of Gibbon.
"The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire," by the way, was probably
more in demand than anything else in the library; for the state of mind
induced by captivity needed something more solid and satisfying than
the best yeller-seller. Great favourites, too, were books of Eastern
travel and adventure--in particular the works of Burton and Lamartine,
the "Travels of Marco Polo the Venetian," and Morier's "Hajji Baba." A
copy of Plutarch's "Lives" also received the attention of much wear and
tear. For the rest, many a time have I thanked the gods for Kipling;
but never more heartily than when lying on the hillside at Afion and
forgetting the Black Rock and all that it stood for in the company of
Kim the lovable, Lalun the lovely, and The Man Who Would Be King.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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