Our man, Mohammad Amin was walking with the mayor, accompanied by the loyal gendarme Abu Mohammad just returned from carrying out one of his official tasks; just then they were passing the orchard of Mr.
Taleb A’rafa near which the River Tora – a branch of the Barada river – was flowing, and over which the mill of Abu Mahmood was built. The orchard was extensive with a small garden in the centre planted with the rarest and most expensive flowers and plants; extreme care was taken so that the surrounding orchard served as a fence or barrier to deter those who might decide to pick an exotic flower or two.
Suddenly, Mohammad Amin stopped and listened… the sound of music and song, raucous laughter and cries of frivolity and debauchery reached his ears! His face reddened with anger, his eyes gleamed with rage and his heart began to beat with sadness, then he shouted, saying, ‘It’s a gathering of criminals.’
As he looked all around he noticed, among the pack animals, some donkeys as large as mules which were mainly found in Halbon [74]country.
He soon realised that a large, mixed band of criminals were gathered together around a table for frivolity and corruption, and where ‘cups of vulgarity and inhibitions’ were being passed among them. They found strength in their numbers and so they did not even try to keep quiet about their criminal plans.
Officer Sheikho turned to the mayor saying, ‘I’ll arrest the whole lot of them!’
The mayor trembled and turned pale, becoming as white as a ghost, then he mumbled, ‘Oh God! He can’t possibly do that… he’s just one man… there are many of them and they’re armed criminals… accustomed to killing!’ He was convinced that the officer was about to die!
As our officer headed for the door he met a youth of about eighteen years of age coming out. Quick as a flash Amin’s hand struck his face delivering two strong slaps that knocked him to the ground. He pounced upon him and, seizing him by the collar, growled at him, ‘What’s going on here?’
The youth was so overwhelmed by this attack that seemed to have come from nowhere that he stuttered unconsciously,
‘It’s a gathering of criminals, Sir.’
Our officer asked him, ‘How many?’
The youth replied, ‘Between sixty and seventy…!’ Then Amin released him and he ran away as fast as his legs would carry him.
Officer Amin Sheikho frowned, and a look of insistent determination was displayed clearly on his face: for a moment, he was lost in thought, then a smile spread slowly indicating that a clear plan was forming in his mind.
Our officer turned to the gendarme and asked, ‘How good are you at giving military instructions Abu Mohammad?’
Abu Mohammad replied, ‘As you like Sir, giving instructions is my hobby!’
Our officer retorted, ‘Thank God! Imagine then that you have three military battalions and that you are issuing instructions for moving them. Make sure that some of the villains overhear you and will think that the orchard is surrounded by soldiers. Be careful not to start before the noise and clamour stop completely… understood?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
Abu Mohammad was a gendarme who had derived courage and boldness from his leader, through his love for him and the great amount of time spent with him. He had a strong, pompous, bombastic voice that would make a sleeping man leap from his bed as if he had been stung… and this about to be put to good use.
The officer entered the orchard with his usual firm and steady step and headed for the area where the criminals were gathered, enjoying themselves seemingly without a care in the world. At that moment he saw the owner of the orchard bringing a large tray overflowing with fruits, nuts and drinks for his guests, and just before the man could recover from the shock of seeing our officer there in the orchard Mohammad Amin stunned him with a strong blow to his face that made his head spin, then he shouted,
‘Where are the criminals?’… Although this was a pointless question as the raucous party had already given away their whereabouts.
He did not wait for a reply and thereby had given the host a chance to go and tell the criminals that he was there. Our officer, meanwhile, hurried off in the direction which the owner of the orchard had come from, that is away from where the criminals were gathered: this was a clever plan thought up by Mohammad Amin whereby he wanted the host to tell them that the security forces were raiding the place.
The direction in which our officer had walked led to a room where he found piles of fruit, nuts, and bottles of wine and other drinks. The parents of the orchard’s owner were putting them on trays in preparation for them to be taken to the criminals.
He turned and went as fast as a flash of lightning to the garden where the criminals were eating, drinking and singing to their hearts’ content.
The path leading to it sloped upwards. At the top of the path he found the owner of the orchard standing, motionless, and still holding the tray, having informed the criminals that the security forces had arrived. Officer Sheikho stopped still, landed him a strong kick that threw him down on his face, only for him to tumble back down the slope with the tray, broken glass, nuts and drinks scattered in all directions. The resultant clamour was followed by total calm and wondrous silence. The criminals were amazed and they all became instantly wary. They knew him… Aslan… with his pistol in his hand and his fiery looks he could cause trembling and terror in the hearts of even the strongest of men.
Absolute silence… an uneasy calm that heralded the storm!
At that moment a voice boomed out almost causing the orchard boundaries to quake by its very strength: a resonant voice which sowed dismay and ensured peace and calm… it was the voice of Abu Mohammad who was deploying his imaginary battalions around the orchard.
The officer seized this opportunity, the opportunity of fear, dismay and illusion being experienced by the criminals, and addressed them saying, ‘The commander-in-chief has arrived in person with three battalions of soldiers, all heavily armed with the most modern weapons, and he is determined to burn down the orchard with all who are in it… whoever tries to run from the fire will not be safe, for the soldiers’ guns will cut them down; but he swears that if anyone surrenders, he will be safe. Time is running out and you have no choice except to surrender or to be burnt or killed… so, decide!’
In fact their courage failed them, and they understood that they had been completely trapped. Suddenly, one of them, realising that his guilt would ensure a long term of imprisonment, rushed to the officer, threw himself at his feet, kissed them and begged in a quivering voice with tears running down his face: ‘Please Abu Fathi[75] … I’m asking for your protection, I have children… I surrender,’ and he laid down his arms.
Besides, this criminal could still remember the taste of the lash he had experienced at the hands of our officer, Mohammad Amin a few days ago and its mark had still not vanished.
Indeed, this criminal’s tears tore at the heartstrings of the other criminals, and his genuine, humble request caused even the toughest spirits to weaken… they felt powerless and defeated, so they came to the officer one by one, cringing in fear, surrendering to him and proving their good intentions by laying down their arms and asking for mercy and forgiveness.
Thereupon he shouted in his strongest voice: ‘Sir… Commander… all of them have surrendered and they ask for our mercy and pity, so send me only one soldier please… Abu Mohammad! They are all submissive and there is no need to shoot or set fire to the orchard.’
Then, Abu Mohammad hurried to Officer Sheikho and in a minute he stood before him stamping his foot firmly on the ground and saluting his superior: ‘Yes, Sir!’
Our officer ordered Abu Mohammad: ‘Collect up all their arms quickly and put them in the saddlebag. Look at these ropes tied to the trees… bring enough of them to tie all of the criminals. Get the mayor and the owner of the orchard to help you.’
‘Yes Sir! At your command!’
Within no time at all, our officer, the mayor, Abu Mohammad and the orchard’s owner were all working together to bind the criminals who had by now capitulated and laid down their weapons.
The scene was an amazing sight to behold… each criminal had his hands cuffed behind his back and was attached by rope to the villain following him so that they seemed like a long train of pack animals, but lacking a boy to lead it. Then the officer shouted an order at them, ‘Take off your shoes… now!’
‘You… orchard owner… collect them and put them in the other saddlebag!’
Within a minute every one of his orders had been carried out.
At that moment, as he turned around, he saw a trollop, a Jewish woman, who was participating in their debauched gathering by singing and playing on the lute. It is necessary for the one who wishes to enter the world of lowness and debauchery, ‘the devils’ world’, to have the means to enter therein and the harlot is the guide and provides the means , and her services are the devil’s traps.
The woman was trembling, horrified at what might happen to her, and copious tears were pouring from her eyes.
Officer Sheikho shouted at her, ‘And you! Mount the donkey.’
She hurried to obey his order and prepared to mount the animal, but he said to her: ‘Get on it and face backwards! Give her the drum!’
He asked her if she remembered the name of a particular song that was common among the people and sung to belittle and deride someone who was an object of scorn.
She said, ‘Yes… yes…’
He ordered her to drum and sing it and he shouted at the criminals ordering them to repeat it after her.
Our officer was able to control the whole operation with his fearless command of the situation and by imposing upon the criminals an atmosphere of abject fear and terror.
And finally… the convoy set off from the orchard.
It was an extremely strange and astonishing sight to behold…:
- An old woman mounted backwards on a donkey…
- A long line of handcuffed men walking bare-footed behind the donkey repeating in unison what the dissolute woman sang to them…
- And the same licentious woman laughing at them!
It was a picture that any artist would have loved to draw and by colouring it skilfully he would have a work of unique aesthetic style.
Anyone observing this bizarre scene would have stopped and stared in open-mouthed, amazement! No wonder! For they had never seen a huge gang of criminals being driven in that humiliating way.
Just one of them alone could cause terror and dismay in an entire neighbourhood, so how was it that so many of them had been captured and driven by one just one officer and his companion?
The criminals were stunned by disbelief, as though a great thunderbolt had struck each of them when they discovered that they had been arrested by just two people…
There were no commandos, no battalions, no forces! They were overwhelmed by anger and rage, to the extent that one of them raised his voice in fury and shouted out what they were all feeling, ‘Are we little kittens? We were all arrested by only two people?
Officer Sheikho answered, ‘No, you’re less than that, you are dogs!’ Then he cracked his lash on the man’s body.
Our officer ordered the gendarme Abu Mohammad to walk at the back of the convoy and to fire immediately on any one of the convicts who created a disturbance or tried to escape.
In this fashion, the convoy walked across the most important main streets of the al-Akrad and al-Salhiyeh areas in Damascus, and whenever they met a gendarme of the security forces, our officer recruited him to the convoy to help maintain order and control matters until they arrived eventually at the appropriate destination… the prison!
This sight remained engraved in people’s memory for a very long time; the elderly still mention it as a whimsical tale in their evening entertainment and recount it so that it will be an example for all of us whereby we learn about majesty, reverence and appreciation.