Dear Mom,

Glorious Turkish mother who gave birth to four soldiers! I have received your letter while I was sitting under a pear tree in a greenish meadow. Your letter encouraged my soul that is enraptured by the beauty of nature. I have read it. I took lessons from your lines. I have read it again and again. I felt the joy to be in a holy mission, here. I opened my eyes and looked far-off. The wind was bending the crops down. They seemed to salute the letter written by my mother. The crops were bending down and celebrating me for the letter I have received from my mother.

I turned my eyes to right side there I saw magnificent pine trees; they were bringing good news to me with a sound proper to them. I turned my eyes to left, there I saw the singing stream, she was smiling to me, and playing happily, and she was full of joy for the letter that my mother wrote... I raised my head upwards; I looked to the leaves of the tree, which I am resting in its shade. They were sharing my joy with their dances. I looked another branch of the tree, there was most beautiful nightingale on it, and she was singing her best melodies to celebrate me. She was sharing my feelings with her delicate beak.

In these moments, my service man said:

• Sir, here is you tea, would you drink?
• Thank you. I said and took the tea. It was with milk. I asked.
• Mustafa, where did you find the milk?
• Sir, from the flock in that pasture. I bought it from its shepherd. I paid ten para.

My dear mother, a kilo of milk to ten paras, it has no water in it. It was just milked from the sheep. I drank it. However, I was thinking, I am drinking fresh milk with the money, my dearest mother has sent. Unfortunately, my mother can not drink it. Why my mother is deprived from it? Why Sevket can not drink it?

Nevertheless, the nightingale was shouting: “It’s bit of a bad luck for your mother. You are not to blame. If your mother would be man, she would see the bending crops, the dancing of the stream and she would smell the flowers.”

Tell Sevket not to be curious, he will see, probably he will see places that are more beautiful.

Dear Mother, please do not be sad. I will bring you here. I will show you this wonderful scene. Sevket and Hilmi will see too.

My soldiers are doing the washing. They are parts of this greenish picture. One of them is praying ezan.

O God; this meadow is as beautiful as his voice. The nightingale stopped singing. The crops stood still. Even the stream is quite. They all listen to that sacred voice. He finished ezan. I washed myself in the stream. We prayed the namaz. I have bend on my knees in this enchanting meadow.

I have forgotten all the chaos and confusion of the world. I raised my hands and prayed to God:

“The God of the Turks! The Nation belonged to this Green Meadows and Majestic Mountains! God you gave this treasury to the Turkish Nation. Grant them to the Turkish Nation. This nation extolling your name deserves those beautiful places.

My God! Only intention of those soldiers is to prove your glorious name to the British and the French. Bless this honourable intention. Sharpen our bayonets and destroy our enemies. We soldiers are praying for you and shaking in front of your glory.”

I prayed and stood up. From then on, there was no other man happier than I was. This is the most beautiful place of the earth.

I wrote a letter to Kadir. Dear Mother, please do not give vouchers or other things to anyone. If they ask, please say, “we do not know.” Put the case in the chest. As I told you once, the world is full of swindlers.

Please do not worry. Do you remember how we took our money from the man in the justice court? We only need time. Everything will be fine. Dear Mother, I do not need new underwear. I still have my money. God Bless You.