Witnesses recollect: Turkish soldiers with knives and axes attacked Marash before sunrise, when Armenians were still asleep…

PanARMENIAN.Net - The story of Mary Samanlian

Mary Samanlian Poladian's grandmother, Mary Hasesian, married Artin (Haroutyoun) Samanlian when she was 16 years old - it was Artin's second marriage and Mary's first marriage. They were from the city of Marash.

The story is told by Mary Samanlian Poladian on behalf of her grandmother, grandfather and ancestors:

“My grandfather's first wife had died and left behind an 8-year-old daughter named Siranoush, and a 7-year-old son named Panos. After a year of marriage, my grandmother was already expecting a child.

One evening, when the French army left the city, the Turkish army armed with knives and axes attacked the city before sunrise. The Armenian people were still asleep. My grandfather and grandmother were awakened by the noises and realized that they should run to safety. They immediately took the children and got out their home to go to the nearby church. On their way, the Turkish soldiers fired at them from far away. Panos cried in pain when one of the bullets struck his leg. His father carried him, and they all continued walking towards the church. Not long after, my grandmother began to feel pain, and she knew she was ready to deliver her baby.

When they reached the church, my grandmother gave birth to a baby girl who she named Zarouhi. The church was full of people, and sadly my grandmother and grandfather lost each other. During this time, she also found out that Lutfia and Gulen, two of the nine sisters, had been burned alive in the furnace with their husbands and children. With no sign of her husband, she carried her baby and asked her husband's son and daughter to hold her skirt as they walked out of the church with the rest of the people.

Now, they had to walk from Marash to Aleppo (Syria). The weather was cold and it began to snow. They ate snow when they felt hungry. It was a long way and they were exhausted. Panos's pain was not subsiding as well. Eventually, they all made it to Aleppo, where they joined other Armenian refugees. An Armenian priest sent them, as well as three other Armenian women and their children, to Damascus by train. In Damascus, they lived together in an old house.

One day, some Armenians and Americans came and took the children to the orphanage. My grandmother was devastated. As time passed by, good news sparked a ray of hope in her life. Three years later, there was a knock on her door, and guess who it was? My grandmother fell on the ground unconscious when she saw her husband standing in front of the home. After she absorbed what had happen, he told her that he had been looking for them for a long time, and was told by some relatives that they had heard of them coming to Aleppo. He immediately brought back his children from the orphanage, and they went to Beirut where my father Georgie was born. Years later, they were also blessed with two daughters.

They named their two daughters Lutfia and Gulen in memory of my grandmother's sisters who lost their lives during the Armenian Genocide."