To know your past, is to know yourself.
The next morning we woke up and washed our hands and faces and the old woman had a white sheet with which she let me wipe my wet hands and face. Suddenly across the river we saw some soldiers. The soldiers waved and signalled us to come to them. We all slowly crossed over the shallow water along the underneath of the broken bridge, carefully holding on to the posts of the bridge. As we approached these men with our clothes wet to our knees, we saw that they were Turkish soldiers. They asked the old woman who we were and what we were doing there. In Turkish, the woman told them that we were Assyrians, and were left behind. At that point, one of the soldiers picked up the woman's older granddaughter and put her in the arms of a soldier who was still mounted on his horse...
— Ben S. Benjamin (Assyrian Holocaust Survivor)