It was my birthday that day... - Toprak Yıldırım
06-11-2023
02:02
It was my birthday that day! - Toprak Yıldırım
On November 6, a few friends of ours decided to meet to plan a resistance action. When the appointment time came, I was carefully moving towards the meeting point. When I looked at my watch, I made sure I was right on time. But others were not. According to the decision we made, we would be at the meeting point on time, but we would not wait. Because if one of us was caught, there might be a possibility of talking to the police and waiting at the appointment place was dangerous in this regard. I should have left there immediately...
Actually, I lingered for a few minutes while thinking about these. “Okay,” I said to myself , “our kids must have been caught, I have to go…”
“Sound! "Put your hands up in the air, don't move!" The sounds of boots, the sounds of steel and these shouts exploded as a black scream on the street... Dozens of armed shadows were coming towards me... I saw hatred mixed with fear in their eyes...
Surrender? I mean, being tortured and dishonored...! Never…!
I didn't listen to the command and grabbed my gun. Hundreds of bullets started flying in the air at the same time. It was as if they were closing their eyes and shooting. I started running away desperately. Dozens of blue berets appeared from every corner. I got caught…
The tortures were worse than described. I was tortured in an old mansion known as the 'Muradiye torture house', with my eyes and hands tied, naked, and not even allowed to sleep. Falaka and current were the main methods. But they were also making different experiments here. I once asked “do you want water?” I was surprised when they said. “I want to,” I replied. They fulfilled my request immediately, but not in the way I expected…
Two torturers held my head and pinned my mouth to the ground. There were sandy puddles on the ground, and these puddles were actually the water on which we were made to jump after the falaka so that our feet wouldn't get gangrene. They were making their perverted laughter ring out on the walls of the cell, saying "Drink, come on, drink" ...
Suddenly the voice of the high-pitched torturer rang out. “Here you pimp communist, fresh bread, your birthday present. "Humanity is not dead among us, eat your shit, you dog's sperm," he said and threw a loaf of bread, hot as fire, onto my bare legs. I was stunned. They only gave me water for ten days, I had not eaten anything. This was a good opportunity for me. In fact, it was perhaps the best birthday gift that could be given to me. Blindfolded, with my hands cuffed behind my back, naked, I bent over and started to bite the bread that was burning my lap. The first piece I cut was quite large. My mouth was burning. I swallowed the bite before I could chew it. The ball of fire that landed in my stomach suddenly turned into an unbearable pain. The last time I remember there was fire in my brain...
When I came to, I was alone, in my cell, on the floor.
I just turned eighteen...
Toprak Yildirim
It was September 12, 1980…
I had 2 months left to prove my maturity. I would now turn 18 and become "me" . My need for a “guardian” would disappear. While entering the billiard halls, the most famous meeting point of that period , I wondered "when will the police come and check ID?" I wouldn't have fear. I would have a driver's license, I would sit cool behind the wheel. I wasn't going to run away from the traffic police. My signature would now have meaning.
I was making preparations on my own. November 16, 1980 was the most important birthday of my life. I always lived a life beyond my age and it was not legal at all. Everything would be legal now. I was coming up with a thousand and one ideas for my celebrations. Who should I call? Where should I do it? What kind of speech should I give? What should I wear? As they say , “I am in a sweet excitement”, I really felt that way. The best thing was being able to say to my family , "You can't interfere with me anymore, I've proven my maturity" ... In fact, they didn't interfere with me much, they respected my ideas and stance, but that's okay, it was very important for me to be able to say these words legally...
That morning, a tank was parked in front of the grocery store. "What is this?" Before he could say it, a high-pitched voice on the radio was trying to explain that they had taken over the government for the benefit of the country, but he could not place the emphasis on the sentence. If it weren't for the tank in front of the grocery store, we might have thought that this announcement was a parody in radio drama... Television had made the situation very clear. There was a coup...
I couldn't reach anyone for a while. We used to talk among ourselves that "there might be a military coup", but the revolutionary movement in Turkey had reached such a point that we had virtually made the revolution and were discussing among ourselves which faction would gain power. The strongest candidates were structures originating from THKP-C and THKO. Maybe it could even have been a coalition at first...
After I got over the initial shock, I started reaching out to some of my friends, but most of them disappeared, those who were informed in advance fled abroad, and those who stayed behind were quickly caught. There was talk of torture. Our most talked about agenda was that it was better to die than to be caught. The graffiti we wrote with care was covered up with lime, and even those whose clothing was deemed inappropriate were detained on the spot. It was necessary to hide. I couldn't think about my birthday anymore. I should have walked around with clean clothes and gone to my school...
As I approached the school gates, it quickly became clear that this was also a bad idea. The soldiers were filling all the students into "cemses". I walked away without attracting attention…
Seven weeks had passed. We were starting to get used to the curfews a little bit. To tanks, Cemses, blue berets, G3 voices, young girls who were beaten with rifle butts and taken into custody in the middle of the street...
I had 2 months left to prove my maturity. I would now turn 18 and become "me" . My need for a “guardian” would disappear. While entering the billiard halls, the most famous meeting point of that period , I wondered "when will the police come and check ID?" I wouldn't have fear. I would have a driver's license, I would sit cool behind the wheel. I wasn't going to run away from the traffic police. My signature would now have meaning.
I was making preparations on my own. November 16, 1980 was the most important birthday of my life. I always lived a life beyond my age and it was not legal at all. Everything would be legal now. I was coming up with a thousand and one ideas for my celebrations. Who should I call? Where should I do it? What kind of speech should I give? What should I wear? As they say , “I am in a sweet excitement”, I really felt that way. The best thing was being able to say to my family , "You can't interfere with me anymore, I've proven my maturity" ... In fact, they didn't interfere with me much, they respected my ideas and stance, but that's okay, it was very important for me to be able to say these words legally...
That morning, a tank was parked in front of the grocery store. "What is this?" Before he could say it, a high-pitched voice on the radio was trying to explain that they had taken over the government for the benefit of the country, but he could not place the emphasis on the sentence. If it weren't for the tank in front of the grocery store, we might have thought that this announcement was a parody in radio drama... Television had made the situation very clear. There was a coup...
I couldn't reach anyone for a while. We used to talk among ourselves that "there might be a military coup", but the revolutionary movement in Turkey had reached such a point that we had virtually made the revolution and were discussing among ourselves which faction would gain power. The strongest candidates were structures originating from THKP-C and THKO. Maybe it could even have been a coalition at first...
After I got over the initial shock, I started reaching out to some of my friends, but most of them disappeared, those who were informed in advance fled abroad, and those who stayed behind were quickly caught. There was talk of torture. Our most talked about agenda was that it was better to die than to be caught. The graffiti we wrote with care was covered up with lime, and even those whose clothing was deemed inappropriate were detained on the spot. It was necessary to hide. I couldn't think about my birthday anymore. I should have walked around with clean clothes and gone to my school...
As I approached the school gates, it quickly became clear that this was also a bad idea. The soldiers were filling all the students into "cemses". I walked away without attracting attention…
Seven weeks had passed. We were starting to get used to the curfews a little bit. To tanks, Cemses, blue berets, G3 voices, young girls who were beaten with rifle butts and taken into custody in the middle of the street...
On November 6, a few friends of ours decided to meet to plan a resistance action. When the appointment time came, I was carefully moving towards the meeting point. When I looked at my watch, I made sure I was right on time. But others were not. According to the decision we made, we would be at the meeting point on time, but we would not wait. Because if one of us was caught, there might be a possibility of talking to the police and waiting at the appointment place was dangerous in this regard. I should have left there immediately...
Actually, I lingered for a few minutes while thinking about these. “Okay,” I said to myself , “our kids must have been caught, I have to go…”
“Sound! "Put your hands up in the air, don't move!" The sounds of boots, the sounds of steel and these shouts exploded as a black scream on the street... Dozens of armed shadows were coming towards me... I saw hatred mixed with fear in their eyes...
Surrender? I mean, being tortured and dishonored...! Never…!
I didn't listen to the command and grabbed my gun. Hundreds of bullets started flying in the air at the same time. It was as if they were closing their eyes and shooting. I started running away desperately. Dozens of blue berets appeared from every corner. I got caught…
The tortures were worse than described. I was tortured in an old mansion known as the 'Muradiye torture house', with my eyes and hands tied, naked, and not even allowed to sleep. Falaka and current were the main methods. But they were also making different experiments here. I once asked “do you want water?” I was surprised when they said. “I want to,” I replied. They fulfilled my request immediately, but not in the way I expected…
Two torturers held my head and pinned my mouth to the ground. There were sandy puddles on the ground, and these puddles were actually the water on which we were made to jump after the falaka so that our feet wouldn't get gangrene. They were making their perverted laughter ring out on the walls of the cell, saying "Drink, come on, drink" ...
Sand mixed with dirty water filled my mouth...
At one point they got tired or they were consulting to find a new method... We were in a short period of silence. Just then, my birthday came to my mind. “I wonder,” I thought , “what day are we now, day or night, what month is it, am I eighteen?”
“I was going to ask a question,” I said… “Ask me, you son of a bitch,” said one of them… “What month is it today?” I said suddenly... "What are you going to do, what time of the month is it, communist pimp," said the torturer with a thin voice. “Nope,” I said , “it was supposed to be my birthday right now, but I wonder if it happened or not...? "I was wondering," I suddenly said...
“You have been here for ten days, we took you on the sixth, today is the sixteenth,” said the torturer, who spoke with an accent. I think he was from the East. He was speaking with a Southeastern accent...
That day was my birthday. What dreams I had… “Look, where am I now?” I said to myself. This wasn't the plan. This shouldn't have happened. Look where I turned eighteen. There is no exit from here anyway. They will kill me in the end anyway... I was at the finale of my new life, which I thought was about to begin. My childhood was going to end when I was eighteen, but my life was ending. If I had known, I wouldn't have planned a celebration or anything.
"Today is my birthday, don't torture me even for ten minutes so I can turn eighteen in my own way," I suddenly shouted...
There was silence…
I couldn't understand where I was being taken, but I guess they were taking me outside... After a few more steps, it became clear. They put me in a vehicle. It must have been a squad car. They made him sit in the back seat and moved the vehicle...
Now I've had enough. So it was my turn. When they could not get what they wanted during torture, they killed young bodies saying "they were shot while escaping" . They were going to do the same to me. They were going to pull the minibus to a deserted place and shoot me in the back. I would turn eighteen and enter the grave at the same time. I didn't expect this much. I felt regret at that moment. I wish I hadn't said it was my birthday. At least I would be dead in a few days. It was untimely to die now...
The squad car stopped suddenly. The door opened and a couple of torturers came out. I was waiting for them to take me down too, but my torturer next to me made no move. The smell of pastries was coming from outside. We must have been near something like a bakery. Maybe my executioners were hungry and wanted to feed themselves before the execution...
At one point they got tired or they were consulting to find a new method... We were in a short period of silence. Just then, my birthday came to my mind. “I wonder,” I thought , “what day are we now, day or night, what month is it, am I eighteen?”
“I was going to ask a question,” I said… “Ask me, you son of a bitch,” said one of them… “What month is it today?” I said suddenly... "What are you going to do, what time of the month is it, communist pimp," said the torturer with a thin voice. “Nope,” I said , “it was supposed to be my birthday right now, but I wonder if it happened or not...? "I was wondering," I suddenly said...
“You have been here for ten days, we took you on the sixth, today is the sixteenth,” said the torturer, who spoke with an accent. I think he was from the East. He was speaking with a Southeastern accent...
That day was my birthday. What dreams I had… “Look, where am I now?” I said to myself. This wasn't the plan. This shouldn't have happened. Look where I turned eighteen. There is no exit from here anyway. They will kill me in the end anyway... I was at the finale of my new life, which I thought was about to begin. My childhood was going to end when I was eighteen, but my life was ending. If I had known, I wouldn't have planned a celebration or anything.
"Today is my birthday, don't torture me even for ten minutes so I can turn eighteen in my own way," I suddenly shouted...
There was silence…
I couldn't understand where I was being taken, but I guess they were taking me outside... After a few more steps, it became clear. They put me in a vehicle. It must have been a squad car. They made him sit in the back seat and moved the vehicle...
Now I've had enough. So it was my turn. When they could not get what they wanted during torture, they killed young bodies saying "they were shot while escaping" . They were going to do the same to me. They were going to pull the minibus to a deserted place and shoot me in the back. I would turn eighteen and enter the grave at the same time. I didn't expect this much. I felt regret at that moment. I wish I hadn't said it was my birthday. At least I would be dead in a few days. It was untimely to die now...
The squad car stopped suddenly. The door opened and a couple of torturers came out. I was waiting for them to take me down too, but my torturer next to me made no move. The smell of pastries was coming from outside. We must have been near something like a bakery. Maybe my executioners were hungry and wanted to feed themselves before the execution...
Suddenly the voice of the high-pitched torturer rang out. “Here you pimp communist, fresh bread, your birthday present. "Humanity is not dead among us, eat your shit, you dog's sperm," he said and threw a loaf of bread, hot as fire, onto my bare legs. I was stunned. They only gave me water for ten days, I had not eaten anything. This was a good opportunity for me. In fact, it was perhaps the best birthday gift that could be given to me. Blindfolded, with my hands cuffed behind my back, naked, I bent over and started to bite the bread that was burning my lap. The first piece I cut was quite large. My mouth was burning. I swallowed the bite before I could chew it. The ball of fire that landed in my stomach suddenly turned into an unbearable pain. The last time I remember there was fire in my brain...
When I came to, I was alone, in my cell, on the floor.
I just turned eighteen...
Toprak Yildirim