Omer Musluoglu has graduated from Istanbul Faculty of Medicine, in 1957. Then he went to USA for specialising. He tells an interesting story:

During my first days in America, my English was not very good. I was working in Medical Center Hospital, in New York. My duty was blood taking, transfusing blood, serum, electrocardiograph, and things like that. They appreciated the patients; they never had examined them to the novice doctors. I was usually working in the laboratory. One day, I went to a patient. He was nearly seventy-five years old. I was speaking in English. I said, “I will transfuse blood can you roll up your sleeves.”

He was cancer and anaemic at the same time. I rolled up his sleeve. I saw a tattoo on his upper arm; it was a Turkish flag. It was so interesting; I asked him if he was a Turk. He answered “No.” I was so curious about it. I asked again “what is that flag on your arm?” He said, “don’t pay attention, its anything.” I have insisted and said “but, I am so curious it is my flag.”

On these words, he opened his eyes. “Are you Turkish?” he asked. I said, “yes, I am a Turk...” Then he looked in my eyes as if he was searching somebody familiar and began to tell his story:

“It was in 1915. You don’t remember those days. There was a place called Canakkale, in Turkey. To fight in there, they were recruiting soldiers from whole Christian world. I was an Anzac, from the Australian Anzacs... The English recruited us and told “Barbaric Turks will destroy the Christian world. The entire world is fighting against them. We will unite and defeat them. This is an important war.” We believed those words and promises. We joined the army.”

The Anzac continued.

“The English were transferring all the volunteers to Canakkale. They brought us to Egypt. We have trained there for some months. Then they took us to Canakkale. I first realised the violence of the war, there. The shells were flooding the sea. The gunfire was turning the night to day... In every attack hundreds of people, both Turks and us had died. However, we were watching the Turks with anxiety. Our number and technology were mush superior than the Turks’. They were so brave so courageous. What was the origin of their courage? In my first days, I though they were attacking, because they were barbaric. Later I have realised that, it wasn’t the wildness but the love of homeland. I tell you how I had discovered this fact. We landed but we couldn’t have attacked. They were scattering us. We attack they scatter. During one of those attacks, I have fainted by a butt stroke. When I have opened my eyes, I found myself among strangers. I can’t tell how I was frightened. I regained my consciousness. Then they gave me food. I knew that they were lack of food but they were feeding me. I was astonished. I though to myself:

If those men want, they can kill me, now. However, they don’t... If they would, they could kill me before. On the contrary, they take me to back front and treat me like a guest.

With those feelings, I shamed myself. I thought, “Why do I fight against those noble people? Why did I come here? What liars those English. What enemies of Turks.” At that moment, I regretted. However, it was no use... For days, I thought how can I answered back to the grace of those people...

Life is strange. I was nearly dead if the Turks did not save my life. Now, a Turk saves my life, again. Isn’t it strange. I never thought, I would confront with a Turk in America. You are good people. They have lied to us. I believe it with all my heart.”

He asked me my name. I said it was “Omer.” He asked again, “why did they give that name?” I said, “it was the name of the second caliph of the Muslims” He replied “So you have a Muslim name.” I said, “yes.” “My name was Mr. Joseph Miller, up to now. From now on, it will be Omer of Anzac. ” I said “Okay.”

He said, “can you make me a Muslim. Is it hard to become a Muslim?” I was surprised. How he could decide to convert his religion. Actually, he was thinking of it for many years but he could not have found the chance. I said, “it’s so easy to be a Muslim.” I explained the rules of Islam. He accepted. He prayed the verses of Koran. He was crying.

He was old and sick. However, he was so happy. At last, he did something that he longed for many years. He murmured:

“You Muslims always have your prayer beads. Find me one. I can pray from my bed.” I immediately found a prayer bead for him. He was praying all the time. He was a Muslim. One day he requested one thing “please don’t leave me alone.” I asked “why”. He said “come and tell me about Islam, you are talking about very nice things. You make me relaxed”. From that day on, I have visited him, everyday. I explained our religion as I could. However, everyday he was getting thinner.