CHAPTER 11 - Haim Abraham and Sara’s Marriage and Life in Constantinople

Sara & her Family meet Haim Abraham

If Haim Abraham's name is remembered at all, it is as Sara’s husband, so writes one of Haim’s descendant’s Daniel Abraham. Haim was born in 1879, the son of Mamo Haim and Lea Jakob, in Rustchuk, Bulgaria, where his family were members of the Ladino speaking Sephardi Congregation. At the time of his birth the town was a prosperous, merchant town, home to a well-to-do Jewish community. Part of the Ottoman Empire, it became Bulgaria a year before Haim’s birth. A cosmopolitan city of Bulgarians, Turks, Jews, Armenians, Germans, Greeks, Romanians, Russians, Serbs, Croats, Hungarians and Italians. Unhappily, Haim’s parents died when he was young. His mother Lea, from tuberculosis in February 1892 when he was twelve years old. Less than two years later, his father Mamo, died from the same disease and Haim became an orphan at fourteen. He and his three younger brothers were raised by their maternal grandparents and their aunts. 

Haim & his Brothers Moritz, Isak & Mony, Rustchuk, Bulgaria

The earliest photo of young Haim is of the four Abraham brothers, Haim, Moritz, Isak and Mony, taken two years after their parents’ death. Four very Jewish faces, four very sad ones. 

Haim as a Young Man

Haim is seventeen, a rather unsure, parentless boy, with large nose, small lower lip and weak looking chin, on the cusp of uncertain manhood. He wears a European-style suit and bow-tie in typical middle-class Romanian style. Despite being without parents he received a good education at the boys’ school run by The Alliance Israélite Universelle in his native Rustchuk. The curriculum included French, Arithmetic, Geography, History, Science, Physical Exercise, Handicrafts, and Singing. All with capital letters as his school reports indicate. In addition this unsure, young man learned Hebrew and basic religious instruction - limited to no more than two hours a week. A modern French education, intended as one historian has said, to lift the ‘uncultured Sephardim from decay’.
 
At high school Haim excelled in his studies, receiving top grades in all his subjects, including in gymnastics. His school report reported: ‘Free hand Drawing: Excellent, Gymnastics: Excellent, Romanian: Excellent, Singing: Good’. He spoke at least six languages, was fluent in Ladino, French, German, Hebrew, and knew also, Bulgarian, Russian, Romanian, Hungarian and some Turkish. His native tongue was, as might be expected, Ladino, the Judeo-Spanish tongue of the Sephardi community in Rustchuk. By the time he started attending the Kronstadt Realschule, he needed to know German, too. A language that would prove be useful to run his business later and that would give him shelter in the years of the war to come. At the age of twenty-one, he would study modern Hebrew for two years and he started giving speeches, indicating his Zionist leaning, in that language. Letters exchanged between Haim and the Aronson family illustrate his command of these tongues: Aron wrote to Haim in Hebrew - the letter inviting Haim to come to Palestine to meet Sara - Haim responded in German, and Sara wrote back to him in her chosen European tongue of French. 

This Sephardi, multi linguist had a lifelong involvement with Zionist organisations and was one of the founding members of the Rustchuk Maccabi sports club. On his return from his studies in Kronstadt, Haim has replaced his shy demeanour with a more ambitious outlook, though he now has the whiskery appurtenance of a straggly moustache and still that uncertain lower lip. He has become a partner in the business that started his career and now wants to go out on his own. Already he had received the gift of a share of the Jewish Colonial Trust: ‘donated by the Zionist Association in Rustchuk to Mr. Haim B. Abraham in recognition of his tireless effort and sacrifice for the awakening of the Jewish youth as founder and gymnast supervisor of the Jewish Gymnastics and Music Association in Rustschuk’. 

Haim the Sportsman in Maccabi attire

A distinctly comic picture of the time, shows the unprepossessing, lanky Haim posing against a rather incongruous, painted backdrop of bucolic forest and hills. He wears a short, white undergarment or vest which reveals his Popeye-like and very muscular upper arms, quite out of proportion with the rest of his body. Across his chest, the striped, diagonal sash of the Maccabists, on his feet, somewhat effete, vary-coloured cream and brown gym shoes. On the back of the photograph is written: ‘Heinrich Haim’, as he called himself then, in deference to his German-language education and his affection for all things German.  

Haim Abraham Constantinople c 1908

 

In the Summer of 1908, at the age of twenty nine, Haim left Rustchuk for Constantinople with his younger brother, Moritz, just a few months before the Young Turks revolution. The brothers formed an import/export company, ‘Abraham Frères’, which sold a variety of products from Germany and neighbouring countries, including razor blades, iron padlocks, shoe polish and paper envelopes which were sold all over the Levant. The business was successful, and Haim and Moritz were variously described as ‘prosperous merchants’ or ‘well-to-do importers’. 

Haim's Business Card, Abraham Freres

His business card in both Hebrew and French, advises that ‘Télégrammes’ be sent to ‘ABRAHAMYN - Constantinople. His telephone number is three digits long: ‘STAMBOUL No. 908’. There are not many phones in the Ottoman capital. ‘Stamboul’, the shortening of that very long ‘Constantinople’ was used in European languages to refer to the polyglot city. It was only in the 1930’s that  the city’s name was officially changed to the Turkish Istanbul. The import business required frequent travel to Germany and to central European countries, often taking Haim away from Constantinople for a month at a time. 

Postcard sent by Haim from the Eleventh Zionist Congress in Vienna

 

Haim travelled to Palestine in the Spring of 1913, as evidenced by two postcards to his sister in law Ronya, married to his brother, Moritz, one mailed from Jerusalem, the other from Jaffa, and in Zikhron,  at Aron’s request, he would meet his future wife Sara.

Maccabi gymnasts, Vienna, 1913 - Haim in detail centre right and marked with a cross

In September of that year, he attended the Eleventh Zionist Congress in Vienna, during which over a thousand Maccabi gymnasts participated in a mass display, demonstrating the Diaspora’s insistence that Jews could be men of muscle as well as brain. His Zionist and sporting activities were notable and much celebrated. One admirer wrote: ‘It was pure euphoria when Mr. Haim Abraham spoke on behalf of our Maccabists - first in Hebrew and then in Ladino. He knew how to express such feelings that the applause erupted at the end of each one of his sentence.’

Haim's Sister, Ronya and husband Moritz Abraham, Constantinople, May 1912

Haim had already heard about the Aronson family through his sister-in-law Ronya, a bright young thing - her grandson calls her ‘someone with a strong and unique personality’ - and an intrepid traveller, who had visited the Aronsons in Zikhron a year earlier. 

Ronya, Aron, in Arab robes and Sara on the right on horseback in Zikhron

A picture taken on that trip shows Ronya in a mosquito-net covered head dress, Aron, in long robes - though it is not easy to identify him - and Sara on horseback, plainly dressed and upright. Haim had expressed to his sister in law that he wanted ‘a girl from one of the real pioneers’ that had settled Palestine. His visit in 1913, a year after Malka’s death, resulted in Sara accepting his proposal.         

**** 

Haim Abraham, 1913

The Aronson living room. Haim, now heavily bearded - a distinct improvement on that weak boyish chin and droopy, lower lip - and very distinguished, in tailored suit, with watch and chain, sits opposite old man Efraim. Despite his fine clothes, Haim is ill at ease, wishing these transactions would quickly be finished. Sara sits quietly on the sofa with Rifka. Aron stands in the background, clearly the presiding presence at these nuptial negotiations.

    “Well, Sara?” he says.
                         
    “I would like to honour mama’s wishes, Papa. Marry before Rifka,” Sara says obediently.

Rifka, with her arms delicately folded across the cat on her lap, gives a faint smile.

Haim relaxes a little: “Well it’s all settled then.”

    “So when is the happy date to be, little sister?” Aron asks attempting to inject a little lightness into the rather glum proceedings.

Haim has regained his composure and answers for his would-be bride: “We are thinking in March next year.”

He has pressing business matters to return to, but doesn’t mention this.

    “After the wedding, we will return to Istanbul. Under the present circumstances it will be safer - Don’t you think, Sara?”

Sara’s face, a gentle, resigned nod, indicates her acceptance. But she has one proviso.
    
    “My happiness will only be complete if Rifka and Absa join us in a double wedding.”

However, Rifka with a little capricious shake of her head says: “ Oh no we wouldn’t want to distract from your happiness, dearest sister, would we Absa?!, she says to her fiance, who is standing a little distance away, like a spare part, in this not entirely joyful gathering.

       ****

Sara with Haim in the centre, and her family, 1913

Sara with Haim, and her family gathered in the courtyard. The picture taken by a Zikhron Ya’akov photographer shows the little group arranged casually around a small pond with a backdrop of Efraim’s beloved citrus trees. Rifka, artfully reclining on the stone steps of the pond, leaning forward ever so slightly with a look on her face, of anxious triumph, which is aimed at someone just out of camera. Next to her, confident Alex with his leonine mane and middle hair parting - an affectation he has taken to, since returning from America. Sara in the centre, on a lower step, her face tilted to the camera, her hands clasped in apparent composure - or is it resignation? Behind her in ascending order, the three remaining brothers, Aron at the apex of the pyramid, Sam in the middle and Zvi on the right. Old man, Efraim  on one of Aron’s silk covered, dining chairs, looks neither happy nor sad. He has after all, just lost his wife and is about to lose his daughter. To his left, a gap in the composition of the photograph, a large, vacant space, whether intentional or not, where the missing mother, Malka should be standing. And out of camera Avshalom, Rifka’s almost fiancé, not quite part of the close-knit family grouping. Yet. He and Haim have definitely not hit it off. When Absa wishes him a hearty ‘Mazeltov’, Haim flushes, red in the face as if someone has slapped him.

    ****

Sara & Haim's Wedding Announcement in the newspaper Hapoel Hatzair

The wedding announcement appears, black bordered like a funeral notice, in the newspaper Hapoel Hatzair. The invitations are printed on cream card and engraved with a flowing font in both Hebrew and French: ‘Sara Aronson - Zikron-Jacob et Haim Abraham - Constantinople,  Mariés a Atlit Palestine le 4 Nissan 5674’.

Wedding Invitation - 'Mariés a Atlit Palestine le 4 Nissan 5674'

And so Haim and Sara are married on March 31st, 1914. Haim is thirty-five years old and Sara twenty-four. The venue, the grounds of the Atlit Station,  a large, wood paneled, barn-like shed, part of the recently built, horse-shoe shaped building which also houses the research laboratory, offices and library. A small family affair. A long table is ensconced in white damask and filled with all the clutter of Old Europe - place settings and silverware, crystal decanters, cut-glass jugs and dishes, vases of field flowers - viridian and scarlet crown anemones, red corn poppies and the Palestine lotus pea - Rifka’s doing - and in the centre, that queen of desserts, a large Charlotte Russe - a confection of sponge fingers filled with whipped cream and topped with the station’s own, blood-red, home-grown strawberries. A dessert invented by that great French Chef Antonin Carême and carefully emulated by Zikhron’s best bakery.

Haim Abraham and Sara's Wedding March 31st, 1914

The photograph taken by that unknown Zikhron photographer, shows the white-painted shed, hung with palm fronds and branches of aromatic myrtle, that lovely, scented, ever-green creeper, native to the Mediterranean and the Middle East. Sam and his wife Miri, Zvi and Sara Hinda, with frail-looking Efraim standing stiffly. 

All are dressed in their finest, the men in unaccustomed, dark, frock coats and starched collars, the ladies in the style of the time, the best that Zikhron’s dress makers could create. Sara and Haim in the centre, stand slightly apart from each other. 

Sara & Haim Abraham's Wedding Day

Sara, in a white gown with long fluted skirt, white slippers and a veil of scalloped lace, does not smile. Haim wears the long length, dark coat of a previous generation. His beard makes him look a little like his idol, Mr. Herzl. He also does not smile.

On his right, a simpering Rifka is maid of honour. Her embroidered muslin dress trimmed with a floral border is pretty enough to be a wedding dress, a garland of nymph-like flower in her carefully styled hair, one kiss curl stuck to her pale forehead. A vestal virgin in all but name. To her right, Aron, also with a long jacket which attempts to cover his stout middle, and a pearl pin at his neck, wears oriental, leather slippers. Dapper Alex in shiny, polished shoes and velvet bow tie completes the little gathering. Always a man of healthy appetites, Aron’s stomach is rumbling as he awaits a large slice of that delicious, creamy, Charlotte Russe wedding cake.

We freeze on the handsome, wedding photograph which will reappear in a gilded frame on Haim’s mantlepiece.

   ****

A train takes Sara and Haim from Haifa back to Istanbul. We need not venture into the marriage bed, whether on that swaying Turkish train or awaiting the plush, marital, four poster in Istanbul. Sara is dutiful and thinks only of home. It is a hot and uneasy summer. In Zikhron the family miss her terribly. Nothing seems to go right in her absence. Rifka bosses Ayla around in the kitchen but even the soup seems sour. Efraim misses his daughter terribly. Aron suffers. He can find no comfort in Sara’s marriage, for he knows there is none.

  **** 

Sara, Istanbul Living Room, Galata Quarter

We hear the sound of the mosque call to prayer. Sara places the framed wedding photo on that marble mantlepiece in her new husband’s house and sets out her notebooks, diary, watercolours and paint brushes. The furniture is heavy, as is the atmosphere - cluttered with elaborate, Ottoman style ornaments, cloisonné vases, heavily fringed lampshades, priceless, plush carpets covering every inch of the huge apartment and a splendid, enormous, oval, polished dining table. It has the cloistered feeling of a harem.  

A shuttered window looks onto the Bosphorus. Sara throws it open, letting in striations of filigreed light and the noise of a busy street below. 

Sara and Haim in Constantinople

In Constantinople, the couple pose for a formal portrait at the Sebah & Joaillier studio, where members of Haim’s family have had their photos taken over the years. Now mysteriously beardless, Haim is hardly recognisable, and bears a striking resemblance to his brother Moritz. The image in dark sepia tones is like a thousand others, an apparently happy, young married couple in the garb of their class and status. Sara wears a charming hat with a white feather - a token of surrender? - pinned to its brim, her blouse, is richly embroidered, Syrian muslin, all the rage in Constantinople that year, at least among its European denizens - her skirt is serviceable serge. Her dressmaker - sophisticated Ronya’s suggestion is much sought after - but Sara prefers a simple line and wears no other decoration. Haim looks somewhat shell-shocked, having lost his beard somewhere between Zikhron Ya’akov and Istanbul. Perhaps Sara did not like those scratchy whiskers? In her hand, she clutches a lasting reminder of her beloved country; a sprig of the wedding myrtle sprays, the ever-green leaves less ever-green now.

 **** 

Rifka Embroidering her Trousseau

Meanwhile, back in the homeland, Rifka, embroidering the much anticipated trousseau with charming lazy-daisy stitch and a pattern of fern and roses, sits in the family courtyard with Avshalom. Rifka is prattling away.


    “Do you think, red or green, Absa?”

    “You’re like the Lady in the Lake - forever at her loom - ”

    “The Lady of the Lake? I don’t know what you mean? We’ll need dozens of pillow slips and sheets too - ”

Avshalom leans over to kiss Rifka, but she pulls away coyly.

    “Not until we are married!” she says playfully but firmly, holding up her embroidery silks: “What colour do you think?”

Avshalom, frustrated and alienated, has no answer for that question, nor for the predicament in which he has placed himself.

                        ****                        

At last, he writes to Rifka:

    “Know this, Rifka'le, that in two, three, ten years, I will also go to the cold, to the heat, to danger, to the unknown and adventure, and even if I love you then a thousandfold, do not try to stop me because I will push you away as if rude, and pass you by. Remember this...”

Rifka’s face as she reads the letter. Huge tears run down her cheeks and she takes her embroidery scissors to her trousseau - the pile of pillow slips which are neatly folded, tied in pastel ribbons - and proceeds to hack them and her silk threads to pieces.

Ayla enters, sees the mess and tries to calm Rifka but Rifka hysterically orders her to go.

     ****     

Skyline of Mosques and Hagia Sophia c 1914

At this time in Istanbul we hear the sound of calls to prayer, boats hooting and an immense mass of people thronging. The blue of the Golden Horn and a skyline of mosques and Hagia Sophia can be seen through the window. Sara and Haim on either end of that huge polished oval sit in silence.

Haim is fond of her, but love has no place in this marriage. Sara, however is determined to play her part of helpful wife. She hopes for an equality that never come and she finds herself relegated to a no man’s land - she is not welcome in the kitchen - there is an army of servants and a cook, to serve her every need. She is shut into the cloistered world of all oriental, middle class, Sephardi women. Her free spirit and independence are seen as a threat and every desire is checked by Haim’s firm hand and the walls of the palace her oriental potentate has provided for her. When she can bear it no longer, she asks:

    “I should like to go out Haim - To see your business - Perhaps I can be useful there?”

Haim corrects her in no uncertain terms: “Go out?! It’s a dangerous time, my dear. You don’t need to work. I have plenty of people for that. You want for nothing my dear...”

He gestures at the servants and the lavish room. Sara continues quietly eating.
    
    “And anyway you can’t go out without a chaperone - This is not the wilds of Palestine where you can just jump on a horse and ride all over the place!”

     ****

And it is a dangerous time. At this precise moment, Greek deportations of around three hundred thousand, were already taking place. Special Turkish units began to systematically attack Greek villages, conscripting the men into labour battalions and forcing others to leave; Greek-owned businesses were confiscated and handed over to Muslims. The beginning of the forced expulsions and population transfers that would decimate an existing world order.

The Assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo

By the summer of 1914, the news merchants inform the world of the ill-fated, political farce between the competing empires. On June 28th, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the throne of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and his wife Sophie, Duchess of Hohenberg, are assassinated in Sarajevo, and the Secretary of the Austro-Hungarian Legation accuses Serbia of complicity in the assassination. On July 20th Austria-Hungary sends troops to the Serbian frontier and on July 25th, Serbia orders the mobilisation of its troops, followed swiftly by Russia stationing its own troops on the Russo-Austrian frontier. On July 28th, Austria-Hungary declares war on Serbia. A day before, a secret alliance between Germany and Turkey against Russia is proposed by Turkey, accepted by Germany, and signed on August 2. The mobilization of the Turkish Army is ordered on July 31. A day later, Great Britain warns Germany that it cannot remain neutral.

****

Palestine Newspaper in English

In Palestine, Aron and Avshalom read the news, from the English language, Palestine newspaper printed in Cairo: ‘War clouds gather on the horizon as England masses troops for the protection of the Suez Canal - ’ and ‘Britain’s armies are poised in readiness - War is inevitable.’

Sara writes to Rifka for news: ‘It's needless to tell you how many tears I shed all night, and the next day. I almost went out of my mind from  looking at the pictures of you, Alex and Avshalom on the stand on my dressing table. I could not stop myself from crying. But, one gets used to everything, tears dry up and do not come back so easily, and I calmed down a bit.’

She berates Rifka for the paucity of letters.

‘It might be that the post is irregular? From the news in the papers, Germany is winning for the time being. I am very afraid of the war because our young men will be sent to the front. Write to me, every detail..’

She continues: ‘Here there isn't really any business going on. The shops only open out of habit because most of their employees are in the army. Even the rich have  got rid of their servants because they are afraid that soon it will be hard to find food, and so why do they need servants at their table, as well.. We have stopped buying anything new for the house because we are afraid to spend money now.. I stay at home all the time and do not go out because nothing interests me..’

Aron, understands Sara’s unhappiness and worries about her response to the outbreak of war. He writes to Haim, recommending the purchase of a plot of land in Eretz Israel. Just in case, Istanbul might prove too hot for Jews and that they might need a refuge. Haim is not entirely without sensitivity and he knows that Sara is homesick and that she is worried sick too, for her family in Zikhron. In September 1914, he indicates that he is interested in purchasing land in Hadera. Close enough but not too close to Sara’s family in Zikhron. Just in case. A letter from a clerk for Baron Edmond’s administration, and manager of land purchases for the Jewish Colonisation Association arrives in Istanbul: ‘Dear Mr. Abraham! We recently discussed with Mr. Aronson about the proposal he made to you for the purchase of an income property in Hadera with a plot of land that you can plant little by little. I think it would be good to enter into talks with the seller, but to conclude only after the situation - the war - will improve...’

Of course, the war and Haim’s business which is now suffering, means the Palestine idea had to be put on the back burner for the while. 

As Sara writes sadly: ‘We had castles in the air, that I would go first and arrange everything. Father would help me. That six months later, Haim would follow and so on. So many dreams we had and then suddenly - this awful situation which affects everyone and dashes our plans..’

Sara, Istanbul Living Room, Galata Quarter

For now, the less than happy couple, live in Haim’s very comfortable apartment in Galata, a neighbourhood on the northern shore of the Golden Horn in the European half of Constantinople, which has been described as ‘a bastion of diversity’, an endless emporium of covered markets, restaurants and cafés and the best dress shops this side of the river.

But Sara has no interest in any of this. Her heart is sore, her brain numbed. Life  in Constantinople is becoming unbearable and it soon becomes clear to her that she and Haim are utterly incompatible. She is, indeed, worried about her family who are suffering under Turkish rule. But the main reason for her change of heart is learning that Avshalom has not married Rifka after all! 

Absa writes to Sara hinting strongly that she is the one he wants: ‘Your image rose in front of my eyes, young and beautiful, smelling so nice, and healthy and cheerful, smiling your shiny smile and your eyes - that yesterday were so deep, so wet, so good like a cold, clear spring on a hot summer's day, and little by little the quiet comfort returned to my heart. I thought a lot of you, my dear soul. I would love to try and connect with you a little, to submerge and dive deep - even if for just a moment - in your memory.’

A letter, which, though it irritates her intensely, for she is heart-broken for her sister, strikes a deep chord in her being and makes her cry in the privacy of her little writing nook, where her paint brushes remain untouched.

     ****

Haim’s dining room in Istanbul. Four months after their wedding, the War in Europe starts.

Great Britain at War

The Young Turk government concludes a secret military agreement with the German government on August 2, 1914, and formally enters the war on the side of the Central Powers on November 11 with the surprise bombing of Russian Black Sea ports. Britain enters the war two days later, when King George V declares war after the expiry of an ultimatum to the German Empire.

At first, the conflict must have seemed distant from Constantinople but not for long. Soon it came straight to the breakfast table in that dark over-decorated room with its dusky  penumbra of Turkish carpets, heavy Victorian furniture, Ottoman vases, innumerable knick knacks and a whole army of Bavarian china. Sara and Haim on either side of that long oval polished table, his nose in a Turkish newspaper, across the dining table from each other. Servants hover in the background, until, with a wave of his hands, Haim dismisses them.    

He reads aloud from the newspaper of 28 October 1914: ‘Turkey Faces the “Perfidy” of the West - the Sultan’s imperial troops prepare to enter the war -’
                       
Sara, even though she has expected this, clasps her heart: “ What about my family?!” she asks.

    “I will send them money,” says her ever generous husband.

Sara nods her thanks but in her misery she becomes ever more homesick and terrified for her beloved family, as attested by her letters of the time. 

‘Only God knows how sick to death I am of myself, and the life that I live here’

In her little writing niche she writes, telling them of her unhappiness and her sense of uselessness: ‘How I long to see you, I swear I would give everything to be with all of you just for a brief while.. My longing for all of you is terrible and is growing every day. I am looking at the garden and imagining that I am back home. I hear the carriages pass by and the noise is just like that of the carts bringing the young men back from the fields, everything turns hazy, I close my eyes and feel like I am in Zikhron... I am in Constantinople, but my mind and heart are in Zikhron. I never thought I would go so crazy with longing for home, when I have a nice house and everything I need.. Only God knows how sick to death I am of myself, and the life that I live here. How long? In Palestine hunger and poverty reign, and I sit here for eternity, unable to lift a hand to help my people.’

She writes too, to Rifka in distant America: ‘My dear Rifka, it has been ages since I heard from you, and what is this silence? You are familiar with the old news and new things have not yet happened here. There isn’t much for me to do, I am engaged in embroidery and do a little sewing with some other ladies and I too have learned the craft. We make white embroideries, broderie Anglaise, and other very fine kinds, and maybe, someday I too will be able to embroider as nicely as you.’

The letter, ends with the words: ‘Elef Nishikot  - A thousand kisses’,  Avshalom’s words, a link and a divider, between the two sisters who are so far apart.

  ****

Sara’s emotional turmoil is compounded when a letter comes from Avshalom. She reads the precious missive at her desk: ‘You cannot imagine how great a part of my heart you took when you went away - ’ he writes.

Avshalom at his desk in far away Palestine, his face torn with the mixed emotions that match her own takes the little Aphrodite from its perch on his desk.

    ‘I know now what I did not understand before -  you are the woman I love and Rifka - poor Rifka  is just your little sister - ’

 ****

Business with Germany

This declaration throws Sara into more confusion, but she does not permit herself self pity, and she turns to the task that has been preoccupying her thoughts for some time. Aron’s request to keep her eyes open and relay information back to him. She goes to Haim’s study and opens his filing cabinet and commences copying from a ledger, writing her notes on Haim’s sacrosanct desk. Invoices for supplying Turkish troops, a list of army uniforms, boots, caps, etc.  She flicks through the papers and stops on a list of German uniforms.

****

It is October 1914. Breakfast. Sara and Haim face each other over the coffee cups. 

Haim reading the newspaper brandishes it at his wife: “It’s War, Sara! We are officially on the side of Germany. Your Britain and America are our enemies! I wonder what your brothers will think about that?”.

Proclamation of War by Sultan Mehmet Reşad, November 1914

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