Praise for the Dawn Prayer
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PRAISE FOR THE DAWN PRAYER “Captured by al-Qaeda in Syria, Matt Schrier essentially played a long game of chess with them—and won. He escaped from their torture chambers and went on to write one of the most terrifying and suspense- ful books I’ve ever read. This is an absolutely extraordinary story.” —SEBASTIAN JUNGER, AUTHOR AND JOURNALIST “A tightly told story of brutal survival, unexpected friendships and ulti- mate escape . Matt’s engrossing story took me back to those days of struggle and survival and the desperate need for freedom.” —BILLY HAYES, AUTHOR OF MIDNIGHT EXPRESS “This gripping memoir tells the incredible story of American photog- rapher Matthew Schrier’s abduction from the battle-scarred streets of Aleppo by the al-Qaeda-linked terrorist group Jabhat al-Nusra. It’s a searing narrative of personal courage and the determination to survive. Schrier takes us inside the hellish world of secret Syrian prisons and his daring escape from his jihadist captors. He also paints a brutally frank portrait of the unexpected friendships and hostilities he formed with his fellow captives.” —PHILIP S. BALBONI, CEO AND CO-EXECUTIVE EDITOR OF DAILYCHATTER AND FOUNDER OF GLOBALPOST “The Dawn Prayer by Matthew Schrier is a thrilling documentary that reads like a novel. His account of being captured by al-Qaeda and held by some of the most savage and ruthless enemies of all, while being undermined and betrayed by one of his own, exhibits his for- titude, bravery, and cunning abilities to extend his life and someday hope to escape or be rescued. His words transport you to the places of manmade hell where survival is earned every day. Physical torture and mental abuse was the order of most days with very little food and water for survival. The fact that he, as a Jewish photographer, survived to tell his story is amazing enough, but his escape to freedom was noth- ing short of miraculous. Take a deep breath before you begin reading; there is no breathing room in the pages of this one!” —A.B. GRANTHAM, COMMANDANT, DEPARTMENT OF ALABAMA, MARINE CORPS LEAGUE “If I ever had a chance to pick a guide to walk through hell, that would be, no doubt, Matt Schrier, whose gifted hand is able to tame the dreadful memories of his darkest hours in captivity into the most clear, powerful, and enlightening narrative.” —JUAN RÍOS, SPANISH MISSION TO THE UNITED NATIONS THE DAWN PRAYER THE DAWN PRAYER (OR HOW TO SURVIVE IN A SECRET SYRIAN TERRORIST PRISON) MATTHEW SCHRIER BenBella Books, Inc. Dallas, TX The events, locations and conversations in this book, while true, are re-created from the author’s memory. However, the essence of the story and the feelings and emotions evoked are intended to be accurate representations. In certain instances, names of per- sons, organizations, and places have been changed to protect an individual’s privacy. Copyright © 2018 by Matthew Schrier All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embod- ied in critical articles or reviews. BenBella Books, Inc. 10440 N. Central Expressway, Suite 800 Dallas, TX 75231 www.benbellabooks.com Send feedback to [email protected] Printed in the United States of America 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request. ISBN: 9781944648886 e-ISBN: 9781946885210 Editing by Alexa Stevenson Copyediting by Scott Calamar Proofreading by Laura Cherkas and Greg Teague Text design and composition by Aaron Edmiston Front cover design by Pete Garceau Jacket design by Sarah Avinger Printed by Lake Book Manufacturing Distributed to the trade by Two Rivers Distribution, an Ingram brand www.tworiversdistribution.com Special discounts for bulk sales (minimum of 25 copies) are available. Please contact Aida Herrera at [email protected]. To all my friends who never made it home, the few who did, and those who risked their lives to get me here. AUTHOR’S NOTE The events described in this book aren’t always pretty, and neither is my language. At times, the person you will meet in the following pages is not a reflection of who I really am on the inside, but who I had to become on the outside in order to adapt to my surroundings and survive with my dignity. I may sometimes be harsh, but harsh envi- ronments sometimes call for harsh measures. That’s war. At least I’m honest about it. CONTENTS Karm al-Jabal 1 The Hospital 9 The Electrical Institute 85 The Hospital II 123 The Villa 153 The Stores 181 The Warehouse 213 The Transportation Building 229 Aleppo 261 Turkey 277 Epilogue 283 About the Author 297 Somebody told me a joke once, when I was over there . Three al-Qaeda guards enter a cell packed with regime POWs and take five men from the room. They bring them into the cell next door and line them up. After a few minutes, one of the rising stars of the organization, General Mohammad, arrives to deliver a message: “I’m going to kill every one of you,” he says. “I am going to cut your heads off one at a time.” And then he leaves. Two days later he comes for the first soldier, and the day after that the second. Four days later the third, and then three days following that the fourth, until there’s one lone soldier standing in the room, waiting to die. Finally, after five more long days of waiting, General Mohammad comes to collect his last victim. The prisoner is blindfolded, bound, taken upstairs, outside, and placed in the trunk space of an SUV—while being taunted the entire way. “Are you ready to die?” General Mohammad asks again and again. “Are you ready to get your head cut off ?” As the vehicle moves through Aleppo, the prisoner pants, prays, cries, and sweats until he’s soaked in his own tears and perspiration, and all the while the taunting never stops. At last, after about an hour of this, they reach their destination. The prisoner is taken from the trunk, marched into a building, down a flight of stairs, and locked, still blindfolded, in a room. When General Mohammad enters with his camp, he places his lips next to the soldier’s ear. “Are you ready?” he asks one last time, in a cold whisper. “Are you ready to get your head cut off ?” And all of a sudden the blindfold is ripped from the soldier’s eyes—revealing all four of the friends who were taken from the cell before him: alive and well, with their heads still attached. “Just kidding!” yells General Mohammad, breaking into a wild laugh. Welcome to Syria. xiii K ARM AL-JABAL DECEMBER 31, 2012 New Year’s Eve and still alive, I thought with a smile. I sat in a run-down taxi in front of the driver’s house, waiting for him to come out and star- ing at the last cigarette in my pack. I’d planned on saving it to smoke it after I’d safely crossed the border back to Turkey, a superstitious habit I’d gotten into, but since the driver was taking so long I just lit up. Any- way, I was headed out of Syria for the last time. I had been in and around Aleppo for eighteen days photographing the war from the Free Syrian Army’s side, and now that I had what I came for, it was time to go. It was my second time in the region but my first covering a war, and I didn’t want to push my luck. About a month and a half earlier I’d been in southern Turkey and Jordan photograph- ing refugees for the Syrian American Medical Society. During that trip I made my first pilgrimage across the border into Syria to feel things out, and met all the contacts I would need to return and travel deeper inside the country, from fixers to rebels. Photography had never really been a passion of mine, just some- thing I was good at. What I loved was history, and traveling; hoping to find a career that combined what I was good at with what I loved brought me to Syria, after a year spent crossing the globe to test my abilities both with a camera and to communicate with people who didn’t understand a word I said. Recording history turned out to be something that came naturally to me, especially in a war zone. I’d spent the day before in the Karm al-Jabal district of Aleppo, where some of the heaviest fighting in the country was under way. It was like nothing I had experienced so far, which is saying something, since I’d spent two and a half days outside the besieged Air Force Intelligence Directorate, or Jawiyya, at the time considered the most 3 4 MATTHEW SCHRIER dangerous place in the city. Karm al-Jabal had been literally reduced to rubble, and I made my way to the front that morning with two FSA (Free Syrian Army) soldiers who were carrying giant blue jugs of water to the fighters. It felt like we were walking through Stalingrad; there wasn’t a building untouched by bullets or bombs. As we walked I noticed a woman in a black burka about two hundred yards away, standing in the middle of a street that was almost impassable due to all the downed poles, electrical wires, chunks of concrete, and other debris.