We left behind the Iznik maze to follow the fields of sunflowers, planted like groups of infantry wearing smart canary hats swinging to the songs of the breezy day along the coast as our moods lifted with the wispy air of the sails on the road to Troy.
They say that the excavation is still going on but what they have unearthed to date leaves a lot to the mind to ponder. Where and how did they come from? The fields today are quiet and peaceful. Well fed horses and sheep tend to the territorial hold of their grazing patch while weather-hardened farmers stood amongst their crops to harvest the sunflower seeds loved by so many here. Was the love story of Paris and Helen real? Did that many men hide in there? How far did they burn the entire place? As we walked past walls, wells and arches, only the stacked levels of cards laid purposely along the sites betrayed of anything significant to the mind with a quest to learn about the history of what books and films were made of - love, hate, war and peace, honour and riches, religious fervour and unquestionable devotion, where the gods and goddesses acted with human-like emotions and we were all the pawn of this great game of the divine.
Another day we left the harbour town of Canakkale to cross the sea back to "Europe". It was time to visit Gallipoli and since our visiting the Western Front, this had been the elusive piece of jigsaw on a personal level. Here, the patches of sunflowers were bearing burnt faces all bowed low - as if to indicate the sadness and sacrifice spilled across the plains including no man's land. It was trench warfare fought valiantly on both sides. It was a Digger's hell, a Mehmet's pride on the line. Each bore the marks of their dedication to their country and in the end, it was all a war for nothing but so many questions left unanswered, their truth taken deep into the crevice of their graves.
Those heroes that shed their blood
and lost their lives
You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country
Therefore rest in peace
There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us
Where they lie side by side
Here in this country of ours
You the mothers
Who sent their sons from far away countries
Wipe away your tears
Your sons are now living in our bosom and are in peace
Having lost their lives on this land
They have become our sons as well
Mustafa Kemel Ataturk 1934
ANZAC Memorial, Gallipoli Turkey
