And Atlantis had existed tomorrow by Justin Mader (electronic reader txt) 📕

You quite cannot probably imagine my emotional mood at this time, my boy. First, the 'relative' security, and the consciousness of a technical 'invincibility' aboard this 'insurmountable' battleship, then the awareness that you be still vulnerable. The sudden contact with the Grim Reaper, the helplessness in the plaything of the forces of nature, including the fact that you have fallen into the hands of the enemy and you are at his mercy and determined by others, and finally, that you get to know this one that is the symbol of all your wishes and dreams. This roller coaster of emotions you have to relive my boy and that within just a few hours.

Schliemann was a gentleman from top to toe. I could see that he was accustomed better clothes than this uniform he wore now. His English pronunciation was perfect, except to his little Greek accent. I liked him from the beginning. When he was about to turn away, because of my rather disappointing words, I said:

"Excuse me Mr. Schliemann, but I am a great admirer of your great discoveries and your exploration of Troy, ..."

"... I think you're confounding me, I'm NOT Heinrich Schliemann and my father, uh grandfather is dead a long time..." then he said something choked.

"... And my dearest wish is to explore Troy, and therefore I as an American had hired on this British warship ... so I also studied archeology and have...", I broke out with my words.

"... Uh. ... what, you are not Heinrich Schliemann? Oh, I am very sorry ... oh no, that's now terribly embarrassed to me, I ... I was just thinking to my comrade Paul, killed in action short before and therefore I confound his name now, ... I will ...", I began to stutter.

"Well, never mind, no hard feelings, ... Paul, ... aha, that was it, ... but now a very different beast, you said you would study archeology? Well, I could need a new assistant!"

A little confused, I looked at him: "But, ... I am here only a prisoner of war and lying here in a medical station ..."

"No, do not worry, I'll fix it already. According to Dr. Jügüilon, you are completely healthy, except a state of exhaustion. But if you naturally insist ..., but I must point out that without my intervention you would have been stabbed cold-blooded, POW's (prisoner of war) are an anathema to the Turkish view, because they cost only unnecessary time and money ... "

"Yes of course, I like to help you of course, the war could fu ... uh, go sit on my tack! I only wanted to come here in the fastest way!" ...

Now he smiled, because of my impertinent pleasantry.

"But you? You're a soldier, a 'major' even, ... unless I'm very much mistaken ...!"

"Now that's a mere formality, I have a research contract by the Turkish government with a Permit for an excavation project, which the Turks give high priority. And at that time, I have lost Paul," in his eyes I could see a few fleeting tears, "your appearance here is a real blessing to me!"

No sooner said than done, after a few hours, sun had risen, I was clothed as a civilian, which Schliemann had provided me, because myself I had no more own stuff now.

"I see, the old clothes of Paul match to you! Now it's look much better!"

With few old army trucks, we drove on the Gallipoli Peninsula to south to a place called Çanakkale Bolayir. Schliemann still had on his Turkish army uniform, but over this the Arab burnous at the same time, like he had dressed me. Up to a few huts there you could see nothing.

"I thought we would drive to Troy?" I tried to object. He just shook his head and said no more. As we unloaded the army trucks, as well as the 130 soldiers who had given to us and who were very glad to have escaped from the death and the destruction of the Gallipoli War at least for a few hours, I could detect a small hill, on that mostly rudimentary excavations had been performed.

"You have claimed that you have studied archeology, so you must have also a certain idea about geology. What do you think of this landscape profile?"

Oh, he wanted to test me. Now I looked over the terrain and make thoughts about it. In the excavated puncture, you could tell that the hill was indeed primarily artificial origin, however, had been built on an existing natural formation.

"Now, I have begun to study first, but as far as I understand, this is primarily an artificial grave mound from the Hellenic period, ie about 300 BC, ie about 2,200 years old."

"That's right, congratulation to you, you have done your homework. These are the remains of the Hellenic city Lysimacheia. The ancient city extends at the narrowest point of the Gallipoli Peninsula on a partly considerably sloping ridge over several hills, valleys and plateaus. The modern city Bolayir is only situated between the highest point of a ridge to the south and a steep escarpment to the north. As I spoke of geology, so what you can see too?"

"Well, among the hill you can see a natural structure. Above a slightly sandy sedimentary layering, like a landslip, including massive rock formations ... But strangely, you can notice corrosive erosions too, almost like a cliff!"

"Very good, and down there is even a wave-cut notch. And what do you conclude so?"

"Well, that here was the sea," I said in astonishment, "and that 30 kilometers off the shore!"

"Exactly, large ships plowed through these shores here once! However, this was the case 9,600 years ago!"

"But at that time no big ships existed! Maximum small coastal sailors!"

"Hm, then take potluck!" he smiled.

The soldiers now started on to shovel and we progress relatively quickly. Towards evening we had created the breakthrough in the more sandy area and came across to a mural wall. Since it was too dark, we stopped our work for this day and there we executed only more easily backup work, so that the sandy sediment could not slide down. In the evening, I was invited by Schliemann in his tent, and we talked about the results so far.

"Yes, now we have found the grave of the Hellenic princes and thus the beginning of our field of activity!"

"What is our field of activity?" I asked curiously.

"Well, that's a long and complicated story. Well, if I could not introduce you into the overall theme and bring no trust to you, then our further activity would bring no sense. And since Paul is dead, ... I need a new person of trust, my wife is, as I know now, clearly the wrong person!"

Then we talked long, and what he revealed to me, made my face felled here. He told me about his nephew Paul, whom he had visited in spite of his father's quarrel with the 'Russian line' of his family (Heinrich Schliemann was married in first marriage with a Russian woman) and with whom he had a very intimate, friendly relationship.

So, I thought, although I do not know what a bit on the side you had with him, but with me, certainly not, so at least I would not let me collect in this way!

He told me that his name was not Paul but really Agamemnon Schliemann and he was in fact not the grandson, but the son of the famous archaeologist from the 'Greek line' of his family. He told me about the legacy of his great father, the discoveries of this and his own. He talked about Atlantis, about Plato and the documents which he had found on him. So not copies of copies of copies from the Middle Ages, but the complete original writings of Plato, which he had discovered in Susa in Persia, in the archives of the Great King Ŗtachschaçā who had known us under the name of Artaxerxes III. He also showed me the originals and his self-made translations. He also spoke of his very mysterious excavations in Saïs, where he had found the grave of the Neith. He showed me some metallic, iridescent plates and two "bone masks", which he still could called his own. And he talked about the fearsome Smith's, who not only had killed the Saïs expedition, but also his nephew Paul. Then he was fled and submerged from Saïs with Paul and his entire documents.

On his flight from the Smith's, he finally had reached America, New York, and had hand over the most important documents, including a part of its own history to the newspaper tycoon William Randolph Hearst. He introduced himself as Paul Schliemann, so that his wife and his famous Greek family could not be getting involved in the matter by the Smith's. With the ulterior motive, if his story had been published by Hearst, the Smith's would have had no more hold upon him.

Big mistake! One day he was visited by the Smith's on his yacht moored in the New York docks. He and Paul defended their poorly life with a Gatling gun turret on the roof mounted on his yacht, but the peculiar saber weapon of Smith, could transform his yacht into a gigantic explosion. He could just save his life by jumping into the water, but Paul, who could not swim, he could not save. In this respect, we both certainly had a similar fate.

Finally, over adventurous way he came to Turkey, could play out his relations to Turkish 'regional greats' and eventually with much baksheesh he got the rank of a major in the Turkish army near Troy there. That the Allies just should start their war here, of course, he could not know. Though later said, it was not so bad. As an officer and these confusions of war, he could submerge easier. Finally, he got the order to recover extremely sensitive artifact here from the Turkish High Command.

Heavy welded armor plates from illegal excavations in the area around Bolayir were namely surfaced, which were not able to be produced by the Turkish defense industry. And that for a time, that lagged at least 2200 years ago. However, recent excavations gave rise to the suspicion that they were much elder. Paul rumored about the period of the ancient Atlantis.

Paul, or better Agamemnon get all off his chest and I could only marvel what a person everything could experience so and suffer. Finally, Paul had a few glasses too much and I could retire me eventually.

In the next morning, the campaign was continued, finally. You did not notice the yester eve drinking binge of Schliemann, he obviously does agree a lot of 'spirit'.

The mural wall panel found, actually turned out as a wall of a pit, which led to a subterranean Greek Mausoleum. The layout was as equal, like you could expect from this period. But no evidence of any armor plates or Atlantis. Everything just seemed to point only to Hellenic architecture, until I realized that the bottom of the Mausoleum absolutely not fit to this Greek time. Thus, the ground was not equipped with the typical Greek ornamentation, but rather decorated with Minoan or even just Egyptian motifs. So, we could assume that the Greek mausoleum was built over an existing older building. Paul revert to his already used achievement, precisely said to the seismograph. With a few explosives, we could finally discover a fairly large cavity and break access through.

In the lights of the carbide lamps we saw below us a light brown cambered surface. In one direction, this surface was covered by rock debris, but in the lateral direction we could discover a kind of 'railing' and into the fourth direction we could see superstructures. We rappelled us into the deep and soon we had to noticed as we entered this surface. This surface was neither made by wood nor by stone, that all was metal among us! The cone of our lamps took a strange scenario from the darkness. We were standing on an old rusted Assyrian Bireme, if you look internalized its design features. However, such a ship normally had neither superstructure at the stern, nor yet it had been built of metal. After a few meters, we came to a covered companionway. With a lot of power and with help of several chisels we got it open this rusted flap. The leading down stairs were badly rusted