I will take as an example of the superb heroism of those men and women
the diary of an American lady attached to the mission at Urmia, a
document that, anonymously, is one of the noblest, least self-conscious
records I have ever read. The period of it extends over five months.

Early in January 1915 the Russian troops were withdrawn from Urmia,
which lies on the frontier between Turkey and Persia, and simultaneously
the Moslem population began to plunder the Christian villages, the
inhabitants of which fled for refuge to the missions in the city.
Talaat's official murder-scheme was not completed yet, but the Kurds,
together with the Turks, had planned a local massacre at Geogtapa, which
was stopped by the American doctor of this mission, Dr. Packard, who, at
great personal risk, obtained an interview with the Kurdish chief, and
succeeded in inducing him to spare the lives of the Christians, if they
gave up arms and ammunition and property. The American flag was hoisted
over the Mission buildings, and before a week was out there were over
ten thousand refugees housed in the yards and rooms, where they remained
for five months, the places of the dead being taken by fresh influxes.
The dining-room, the sitting-room, the church, the school, were all
given over to these destitute people, and from the beginning fear of
massacre, as well as prevalence of disease, haunted the camp. It was
impossible to move dead bodies outside; they had to be buried in the
thronged yards, and every day children were born. But here is the spirit
that animated their protectors. 'We have just had a Praise meeting,'
records the diarist at the close of the first fortnight, 'with fifty or
sixty we could gather from the halls and rooms near, and we feel more
cheerful. We thought if Paul and Silas, with their stripes, could sing
praises in prison, so could we.'