A letter to my Lieutenant

This destruction began when you were still a child, my Lieutenant.

The plots woven against the nation's army, the suffering endured, the sense of helplessness that gripped every corner of the country—it is difficult to describe.

The brightest officers and commanders of the Turkish army were thrown into dungeons. How our army was slandered with forged evidence.

Those who dedicated their lives to the defense of the homeland were branded as terrorists and traitors. Meanwhile, the real terrorists were even made into secret witnesses.

Those who entered the Cosmic Room, and those who authorized their entry, were held in high esteem in those days.

The plots did not lose momentum, my Lieutenant; one followed the other.

Because treacherous hands wanted nothing to remain of Atatürk’s army.

We felt ashamed as force commanders and those who led armies were brought to court accompanied by gendarmes, as their epaulets were torn off and their ranks stripped away. Those who should have been ashamed of their own humanity rejoiced.

Yet, even though the dungeons took lives, those honorable heads did not bow, just as they do not bow today…

They, too, said “long live the homeland,” just as you all said…

This was an operation of revenge, my Lieutenant.

But what was done was not enough for those fueled by vengeance.

The day came when commanders over the age of 80 were once again imprisoned by those who claimed to read intentions. As their health conditions steadily worsened, they were issued “reports stating they could remain in prison.” While some wrestled with death, others heroically bid farewell to life and departed…

Those who took pleasure in throwing Atatürk’s soldiers into dungeons, hand in hand with the foreign partners of an imperialist project, wanted to tear Kemalism out of the nation’s heart.

A dark cloud descended upon our beautiful homeland. Millions watched the slaughter of the law, in silence…

However, the sun rose again from the horizon, my Lieutenant…

Because in Atatürk’s country, the sun rises again from the horizon at the most unexpected moment, and millions find their way and flow toward freedom, independence, and contemporary civilization in the footsteps of their Ata.

It happened that way this time too, my Lieutenant.

The voice of justice and law, from the young to the old, “became Atatürk’s soldier,” and once again found the strength to illuminate the darkness in the light of Atatürk.

My Lieutenant,

You are the hope and honor of this nation.

Those who most deeply feel the responsibility of being Atatürk’s soldier found “themselves” in “you.” They embraced you with tears and all the love in their hearts. They were resurrected and revitalized by your presence.

Just as in the Harbiye Anthem written by Military Academy students in 1928;

You,

Are the descendants of a race that creates lightning,

You are the memory of histories that show floods.

You,

Are the immortal guardian of the Republic, founded with blood and wisdom.

You are the unextinguished sun of the Turkish homeland.

Live on, exist, my Military Academy student, my Lieutenant…

This nation is proud of you!