Slaying & Stripping

Once accustomed to writhe at the sickening servility of their Sultans to the Great Powers, Turks were prouder than ever last week of their swart, hard Dictator Gazi ("Victorious One"), Mustafa Kemal Pasha.

The British Admiralty has long suspected that, in violation of post-War agreements, Dictator Kemal is now secretly fortifying the Dardanelles and certain strategic points on the Turkish coast from which all visitors are barred. Of late several ships of the Royal Navy have been lazing near Samos, a Greek island two miles off Turkey. One boiling hot afternoon last week three British officers from the big cruiser H. M. S. Devonshire shoved off in a ship's boat for what Britons afterwards called "a sail and a swim." Their pleasure took them within wading distance of Turkey's forbidden shore. Suddenly, out of the underbrush raced ten Turkish coast guards brandishing rifles and shaking their fists.

According to Lieut. T. S. K. Maunsell he at once put the ship's boat about and steered away from Turkey but the soldiers opened fire. Crack!--A bullet tore through the flesh of Lieut. Maunsell's shoulder. Crack!--Another shot got Surgeon Lieut. D. J. W. Robinson. He spun up, clutching his side, toppled overboard and disappeared. As the Turks kept on firing, wounded Lieut. Maunsell and the remaining British officer dived into the Aegean and swam for dear life toward Greece until picked up by other pleasure-bent Britons.

The slaying of one of His Majesty's officers by what Empire Poet Kipling called "lesser breeds without the Law" is the sort of thing the British Foreign Office used to handle in a way to make every loyal subject feel smug with satisfaction. In a House of Commons buzzing with expectant indignation last week Foreign Secretary Sir John Simon arose to say with an ominous restraint which would have made a Turkish Sultan quail: "The attention of the Turkish Government is being drawn to the gravity of the slaying of a British officer by Turkish soldiers."

To draw Dictator Kemal's attention the British Ambassador at Istanbul. Sir Percy Lyham Loraine, Bart., took a sleeping car for Ankara, the new Turkish capital which Dictator Kemal has built among high hills far beyond the range of battleships firing from the coast. On his chosen ground Gazi talked Young Turkey to Sir Percy. The action of the Turkish coast guards, he declared, was fully justified.

When this rebuff, wrapped up in courteous Turkish "regrets," was flashed to London the British Government merely instructed Sir Percy to ask for a joint Anglo-Turkish inquiry into the killing of Surgeon Lieut. Robinson. To this the Turkish Government grudgingly agreed, stiffly called this minimum request a "most unusual procedure."

Soon two British battleships, three cruisers and seven destroyers were looking for the corpse of Surgeon Lieut. Robinson. When it could not be found, Dictator Kemal offered to send a Turkish battleship to throw a wreath into the sea while a British chaplain read the funeral service, "thereafter the incident to be considered closed." This offer His Majesty's Government accepted, breathed not a word about demanding either an indemnity or an apology from Kemal's Turkey.

Meanwhile last week other Turkish coast guards picked on Richard Carman Borden, Associate Professor of Public Speaking at New York University, lecturer and researcher in sales psychology. With a collapsible rubber boat Professor Borden and his wife Marie are on a "paddle tour." Last week they were paddling a few miles from Istanbul in the general direction of Greece. A storm came up and they sought shelter on the Turkish shore. "Our only weapon," said Professor Borden afterward, "was a toy pistol to frighten away savage dogs."

A few hundred yards from where the Bordens paddled in is a Turkish powder factory. A Turkish sentry strolled up accompanied by a soldier. They collared Professor Borden and took from him $44. The Bordens scuttled to their rubber boat and paddled away. Soon they struck a sand bar and five Turkish soldiers waded out to nab them. The soldiers took the rest of Professor Borden's money, marched them to a guardhouse where they tore off Mrs. Borden's outer clothing.

After five hours the Bordens were turned loose and in pitch darkness struggled back along a lonely road toward Istanbul. By extreme good luck they met Adam Cieminsky, clerk of the U. S. Military Attache at Istanbul, and from that instant things moved fast.

Dictator Kemal did not feel that assault and robbery of the Bordens was justified. They were under no suspicion as possible naval spies. Bright and early next morning, Turkish officers courteously conducted Professor and Mrs. Borden to the scenes of their molestation. When they identified the sentry and the six other soldiers these were promptly clapped under military arrest with promise of a rigorous court martial. To Professor Borden was returned his money, and Mrs. Borden was indemnified for her torn clothes.

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