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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1620797-Hannas-journey-back-home
Rated: E · Short Story · Biographical · #1620797
1967 Thanksgiving day the day I learned about my grandfather.
Hanna’s journey back home


Six months gone in hiding, walking hundred of miles undetected, Hanna finally reached the top of the Biara hill across from his old haunt. Intently began inspecting the surroundings and somehow glimpsed southward and vaguely saw the discernible shadow of his village Yaroun a mile away.
It was mid summer and in the heat of the day the sun rendered a haze blanket and blurred Hanna’s vision. Rubbing his weary eyes he focused again and clearly came into evidence seeing the church bell tower & the mosque dome resting on top of the hill from across the valley. They appeared attached together but indeed they remained apart and the pale deception through the eyes and distance illustrated an optical apparition.
Hanna became exceedingly excited gasping and struggling to breathe for he had worn himself to finally discover he is close to home. 
Experiencing no small amount of joy, it was his slumbering hope to reconnect to his formal world, his wife, his children and his land that he left behind unwillingly and now it is all what he wished for, a mile away from the doorsteps of his house.   

Exhausted with swelled feet and arduous backache, his spine fractured and hardly managed to stay erect on his feeble legs. Hanna could walk that mile, just a short mile, a glance away but he was running on empty and his energy has been constraint. His weak body had climaxed and gave him no effort to push forward, he gave it all he can muster but his muscles and nerves did not respond to his brain waves of commands. He was running out of steam and that caused him to stumble and fall on his face to the ground.   
Thirsty, starved and lacking sustenance, his thoughts was interrupted with further punishment by the pain and desperation befell on him. Restlessness resumed and Hanna no longer could move a limb in his wretched body, he was completely whacked.
Hereupon the sky obfuscated, unconscious Hanna fell into deep sleep and that was an alleviate remedy to lessen his stubborn pain.

The morning had come and the sun slowly appeared from the eastern sky. The southern wind was blowing soft and with it carried the aroma of the fields with the prospect occupation of the wilderness noise. To Hanna’s advantage he was awoke by it and by god’s mercy was slowly breathing again. His body was destroyed but his mind was still sound and that is the reason he sustained hope, for his spirit soared to survive and endure.
Hanna took a deep breath attempting to stand tall, merely managed and struggled to stand on his feet. Considerably took a few steps dragging his stiff body and reached the edge of the hill then tumbled down to his knees. Finally he glimpsed down into the valley when hearing the audible sounds of ringing bells and saw a herd of sheep moving slowly grazing the green pasture.
He was persuaded and his faculty suggested that there must be a shepherd who is herding the flock to call upon, and from deep down his belly he cried for help. Aspired as he listened to his own voice faint in echoes, suddenly heard a dog yelp and a voice acknowledged,
  “Where are you?”
Hanna eagerly brushed his pain aside, rose to his feet in limber, transfixed he shouted,
  “I’m up here on top of the hill”
Then Hanna followed his vocal gesture by waving his hand guiding to be spotted by the shepherd who stood underneath.
Sure enough the shepherd noticed and looked up and there were Hanna flagging.   
As Hanna watched the shepherd climbing the hill towards him, he peeped down again and there appear another young shepherd who stayed bellow keeping an eye on the herd and a wolf sable Anatolian vigilant and hoarsely barking at him.

Broken down and fatigued an overwhelming induced joy sparked his emotions, gently fell to his tense knees covering his face with both hands trembling and sobbing. 
As soon the shepherd reached top of the hill treading cautiously toward Hanna, came to halt few feet away. Hanna raised his head and saw a tall slim young man sinew built looking down on him with a risen staff in one hand vertically above his head ready to strike at a moment notice, a large rock in the other hand and a rag bag hanging from his shoulder.
The shepherd was agitated and confused when he saw in front of him a man looking beastly with a long beard, messy hair, bruised and muddy face looking like a savage cave man that disrupt a dream in one’s sleep.   
Spooked and feeling uneasy the shepherd asked,
  “Who are you?”
Hanna locked his fingers in both hand and placed them on top of his head submissively to assure the shepherd that he meant no harm, lowered his eyes towards the ground and claimed,
  “I’m Hanna the village shoemaker”.
The shepherd suspended Hanna’s require doubtfully, with the slight evidence as Hanna was wearing a soldier’s uniform claiming that he was a shoemaker. Staring at him with intuitive suspicion and probing the shepherd inquired,
  “If really you claim to be a shoemaker how come you wearing a soldier uniform?”
Hanna paused occupied in his thoughts withdrawing back invading his invisible memory, his mind drifted remembering that night when heaven was fogged and there was no visible sign of a moon or stars. Dogs howling as they sensed a decoy of danger infiltrating underneath the ground, disturbing the silence by the horses pounding footsteps drumming waves of encroachment toward the village, mounted by Ottoman soldiers with unruly authority swarming fear and terror in their path.
Hanna took seconds and composed himself, cleared his throat and said,
  “I was abducted by the Ottoman soldiers and was inducted to serve forcefully”   

At this point the shepherd listened but remained uncertain if the subject in front of him is  telling the truth and to give Hanna the benefit of the doubt, in short he opened his mouth to contrive certain evidence if he is really a native villager and asked,
  “If you are telling the truth in rendering your answers I’m going to ask you things that cannot be left to chance, so if you want me to proceed and you grant my requests correctly you have no fear but the grace of Allah and if unfortunately you were lying I’ll abandon you because of your offense”
Hanna redeemed and says,
  “Go ahead ask for I have nothing to hide but to say the truth”
Then the shepherd inquired,
  “What is your full name and are you a Shiite or a Christian?”
Accordingly Hanna mumbled,
  “I’m Hanna Nasser of the Youssef Elias clan”
Hanna did not mention if he was a Shiite or a Christian, as he spoke his name it was already attesting to be John Joseph Elias Nasser and that is as Christian as it can be in this part of the world. 

It appeared in short to the shepherd that Hanna is a Christian man and the only portion that could have suggested either Christian or Muslim was his last name, for Nasser was a common name shared by both Muslims and Christians or by physical evidence it was undeniable that Christians in those days were uncircumcised as it was unnerving to ask of such a sensitive and uneasy matter.
It was abundantly sufficient according to the gospel that John Joseph Elias represent biblical names and deterred the shepherd of further witnessing biological evidence and left it to be hashed in a crystal bowl by asking Hanna again,
  “Who is the saint of the Christian church in the village?”
Hanna replied,
  “Saint George”.
At that moment the shepherd stood quietly as if searching for more evidence to query Hanna, turned his head and pointed his finger towards the west mountain facing him then inquired,
  “What do they call the forest that covers that mountain?”
Hanna exclaimed,
  “That is the Wall forest”
Hanna got stirred up and to assure the shepherd that he knew the geography of the land, like a madman and in tremulous tone started to shout his words, turned his face east pointing his finger and muttered,
  “There lay my parcel of land Zweela”
Pointing south,
  “And over there southeast there is my land Jamoussi and on top of the flat land southwest there is the Biader”
Then Hanna concluded,
  “What more evidence you want for I’ve uttered nothing but the truth and if you’re not satisfied then leave me be and stop interrogating me for I had enough inquisition”     
In transpiration the shepherd was sensitized by Hanna’s exact and unmistakable manifest that he was who he said he was, lowered his staff and placed it on the ground, dropped the rock from his hand, turned his head and yelled from top of his lung looking down towards the valley, 
  “Jaafar go fetch our father right away”
Hanna looked down too and saw the chap bellow running towards the village.

Hanna sat on the ground helpless while the shepherd grabbed the rag bag from his shoulder, kneeling facing Hanna then pulled a stale piece of Markook bread, a boiled egg, a water pouch made from goat skin and offered it to Hanna.
Hanna didn’t care how old the bread is and how grizzly the water tasted at this stage he was famished and such offering was Manna from heaven.
Obviously the herd was let to be watched by the Anatolian bellow, the shepherd picked up his rod then said,
    “I must go down to check on the animals, it will be a while till my father comes and he’ll take you home”
Hanna nodded and asked,
  “Young man what is your name?”
The shepherd replied,
  “Muhammad Shaheen”
The shepherd descended down towards his flock as Hanna’s face turned bright feeling relieved. 

Hanna’s journey wasn’t an enterprising voyage, it is pitiful to describe it in such a manner, it was a journey of agony and suffering, it was a journey to seize freedom, for no man to decree be cast down, deprived from his liberty to be bound and limited, Hanna was that kind of a man and took a chance on his own life and accepted the cemetery or his freedom for it was commonly known among those who were abducted and to serve that the penalty of death was the judgment if one deserted or escaped the Ottoman’s rules.

For centuries the Ottomans ruled the Middle Eat with heavy hands and resorted to unusual methods and imposed dictum in persuasive authority and recruited soldiers from among all the inhabitants of the lands under their jurisdictions. Some were prisoners of wars and others were common men like Hanna who were abducted to expand their military power.

At that time in history Hanna was abducted. Before the end of world war one early month the year of 1917, a military squadron of the Ottomans headed towards the southern village of Yaroun decidedly to recruit men into their army and in search of a Christian soldier from the village who deserted and ran away from the Ottoman’s army in Palestine. 
Going back to that period the Ottomans were facing a growing need for men to fight the British in Palestine and Iraq and when they moved in on the village the inhabitant were asleep and upon arrival they besieged the village blocking any one to sneak out and hide in the fields or the wall forest. Once the blockade was in place the soldiers armed with bayonet rifles were knocking on every door demanding all men to come out from their houses but women and children to stay inside.
Every man over the age of sixteen who came out was led by the soldiers to the center of the village by the pool called Birkee then all were shackled. The old and the sick were let back to their homes.
Taking all able men to fight, Hanna has no choice but to enlist by force with other men from the village after witnessing how the Ottoman soldiers had exposed the runaway deserter and mercilessly intimidated any one who refused to join them by executing him in cold blood publicly while they searched his house and caught him hiding under a mound of hay in his stable. The man was shackled, gagged and stabbed several times with bayonets and left to die bleeding in the middle of the street while every one watched such horrific sight.
But the Ottomans according to being brute and cruel they treated their abducted humanely if they joined passively, but humanly treated is not really far from being slaved against one’s will and being a slave Hanna’s masters weren’t the Ottomans, in Hanna’s heart and mind he prayed for his freedom, he prayed for his children, he prayed for his kind knowing that he is a slave and a servant to his god, his only master. 

Abducted and separated from his family Hanna was transferred to Mesopotamia modern day Iraq as a member of the sixth Ottoman army who was growing weaker under the command of Khalil Pasha leaving behind his wife with four sons.

Three years before Hanna was abducted world war one started and at that time in history oil has been discovered by the Anglo Oil Company prior to 1914 and England was anxious to preserve her established position and protect the oilfields from the Ottomans who ruled the area before the war for centuries. 

March of 1918 the Ottoman sixth army laid trap waiting for the cavalry brigade led by Sir Alexander Cobbe in the little Zab River and rumors among the soldiers that the British army has defeated the Ottomans in Palestine and armistice was anticipated. 
During that time a brigade from another division of the Ottomans was sent to the sixth army as an added enforcement and a soldier who was a new comer was ordered as a watchman to duty with Hanna looking out on the river’s bank.
That night all was still and quiet in the river, the two men were caused to chat and comment with curiosity from boredom. The new soldier described to Hanna the last battle he was engaged in and commented that more than a thousand of his company were killed and thousands were captured by the British army as he managed to pull back with the rest of their division.
As both dialogued Hanna noticed that his companion soldier had a heavy Billkaf southern Lebanese accent and was acquaint it to be a striking feature to his own and with a precise judgment Hanna found out that the soldier was a Christian from his neighboring village of Rmeich and was taken by the Ottoman army few years before Hanna was abducted. 
While both men gained trusting each other, the man told Hanna that he is debating to escape knowing the forthcoming battle would be the last stand up for the Ottoman and that brought discomfort to both men as they decide to run away for fear of being killed in the fury.
In progress while they resolved to escape Hanna sighted a boat with two men rowing in their direction. Hanna glanced at his companion soldier from Rmeich and said,
  “This is our way out of here”
Uncomfortable the man hesitated and told Hanna he was afraid of drowning lacking the ability to swim, encouraging Hanna to do what was best for him and urged him to go without him asking him if he make it back to Yaroun to go to Rmeich and tell his family that he was still alive.
Motivated Hanna knew it was his only chance to be free, jumped into the river and swam towards the boat shouting for help, the men seized rowing and a soon Hanna got close he was lifted into the boat and the men proceeded rowing away. Drenched and strung with excitement Hanna looked back and there his companion stood alone on the bank of the river and as the boat kept moving forward Hanna looked back one more time and saw his companion covering his face with both hand weeping Hanna sighed & sad emotions overcame him feeling sorry for the man.

Under the cover of darkness the men kept rowing and an hour later they came upon their house by the river bank obliged and invited Hanna to spend the night while they offered him food and shelter. They were Iraqis a father and a son.
As a known customs, Middle Easterners are passionate and very hospitable and if you were offered food and you decline it is considered rude and lack of respect and in Hanna’s situation it was a blessing that he encountered such godly gesture thinking of the long journey ahead of him as much as he needed the food for strength to carry on his mission.
That night when Hanna went to sleep he was occupied in his thoughts and overcome by wakefulness and couldn’t shot his eyes but he knew he was a free man, although in his mind he was worrisome of the unexpected and remained awake until the rooster crocked and announced the birth of a new day.
Accordingly that reminded Hanna it was the proper time to move on and travel the roads and depart in the journey surpassing the land of Iraq to Syria and cross the mountains stretch of his home land to his frontier.
Thereupon the Iraqi man handed Hanna a rag cloth filled with food and a canteen of water then outside in the sand drew a map showing Hanna the way to the railroad tracks up towards Mosul going north to Syria.       
When Hanna reached the railroad station in Mosul and under darkness he managed and hid in one of the wagons.
Roughly 210 miles north into Syria closing on the city of Aleppo Hanna jumped while the train in motion and that is when his back was fractured and slowly managed walking on foot crossing to Lebanon until finally reached the Biara hill and was reunited with his wife, his sons Michaeel, Yaacoub, Gerius and Semaan my father.

Visiting my memory, it was August 14, 1967 the day I came to America and in November of that year on Thanksgiving’s day my uncle Michaeel invited a friend from the old country who was living in Belize the formal British Honduras.
At that time the man from Belize was visiting his son in Miami who was a member of the police department. That man was Muhamad Shaheen the shepherd who attended to my grandfather Hanna in the story. Uncle Michaeel also mentioned that months after my grandpa Hanna arrived took him along  to Rmeich & both visited the family of the man that stayed behind in Iraq. A year after my grandpa was back home he died suffering from severe back pain.

Back in history in the early 1920’s after my grandfather Hanna expired my grandmother sold a piece of land and paid a one way ticket for uncle Michaeel to travel to the new world. 
A handful of young men from Yaroun boarded a ship riding the waves and landed in Cuba seeking a new life. Among those young men who sailed the sea with uncle Michaeel was Muhamad Shaheen, dad's aunty Miladi twins, dad's cousin Fadoul & others unknown to me.
When Fidel Castro came to power uncle Michaeel left Cuba to Miami & Muhamad Shaheen relocated to Belize, one of the twins Rizik also lived in Miami and I met him, his brother stayed in Cuba. Fadoul were back in Yaroun before I left Lebanon to the U.S. 

Word by word this story was recounted to me by both uncle Michaeel & Muhammad Shaheen on that Thanksgiving day and as the dice might fall all I can say quoting Disney song: “It’s a small world after all”.







© Copyright 2009 Jonathan Simon (joninasser at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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