29/09/2024
< HOW KING N'VUCHADNETZAR'S UNCONQUERABLE BABYLON CAME TO BE CONQUERED IN THE COURSE OF ONE NIGHT - A STORY BASED ON TRUE ACCOUNTS >
( UNDER CONSTRUCTION . . . )
It was nearly 09:00 on Wednesday the 18th of Tishri in the year 539 BM (Before Messiah). King Belshatzar * of Babylon was in a foul mood after having wrestled through yet another restless night. These days he spent his nights and most of his days in the uppermost room of his palace, which not only afforded him a
magnificent view of the beautiful hanging gardens of his beloved city, but also of the Babylonian countryside, far beyond the city walls.
As he now looked out over said countryside, from the bespoke bay windows of his favourite quarters, he became even more agitated as he saw the all too familiar sight of the enemy's camps in the near distance. He allowed his disturbed mind to wander back, for a moment, to the heydays of the Mighty Babylonian Empire when the proud armies of his father ** , N'vuchadnetzar, conquered every corner of the known world, all with such apparent ease.
He still recalled the sights of, almost, endless arrays of humiliated nobles, from numerous conquered cities, as well as all their wealth, tied in heaps on the backs of droves of pack animals, as they were paraded through the streets of this very city, over a period of more than a decade during his formative years. A dark fury began to build up in him with the sudden realization that those glory days were long gone with the huge Medo armies now lying and waiting outside the city walls for god only knows what.
They were, effectively, hemming him and his people in on every side of the city, making him feel like a trapped animal in his own country. He seized the golden goblet, from which he had just drunk, from the stand next to him and, in a sudden rage, threw it, with force, at his personal aid, Tamzi *** , who just managed to avoid its path as it clattered against the stone wall with a loud bang. He was still in a rage as he cursed, aloud, about his rotten luck and the downright injustice of it all.
How he would just love to humiliate those enemy commanders, he now thought, teaching them a lesson they would never forget for cutting his superior Babylonian people off from the rest of humanity by encircling their beautiful Babylon with their stinking hordes, allowing them absolutely no freedom of movement. How could he, however, possibly, accomplish such a humiliation? This was the Million Dollar question. Until such time as he accomplished the latter he, instinctively, knew that he would not find any rest for his troubled soul.
This monstrous Medo military machine had swallowed up the entire world with only his Babylon still resisting. The city had no offensive armies any more. The reason for this was all too clear. The army is only a fairly lucrative career prospect for young men while it wins all it's battles, and even then, only, if they have some sort of commission that would allow them to shout orders from the back rather than doing the hard, dirty work of fighting in the front ranks and all too often getting slaughtered as a reward for it.
Young Babylonian men were simply not interested in the military any longer, and why should they be, he thought. The City of Babylon was, totally, self sufficient; it didn't need the outside world in order to survive, at all. Yes, maybe, to flourish, but certainly not to survive. There were enough opportunities inside the city for everyone who were willing to work to make a decent enough living. The king now gazed down towards the ultimate source of the city's self-sufficiency, beauty and prosperity, i.e. the crystal clear water of a branch of the Euphrates River, the latter which entered the city under its northern wall and exited it under its southern wall by a system of canals.
What a marvel of engineering it was, and what a brilliant mind that conceived of building a city over a river, in the first place. No other city in the known world of his day had a river run through it; It was utterly unique. Was it any small wonder then, he thought, that some influential people that visited Babylon in the recent past, now insisted that it's beautiful hanging gardens should be recorded as one of the wonders of the world?
Suddenly the solution of how to thoroughly humiliate the Medo Military Leaders at the outskirts of his city came to him. Why didn't he think of this before? Why did he waste his time thinking about the just about non-existent Babylonian armies of his day? The way to, thoroughly, humiliate said Medo Military Leaders was, so obviously, linked to the fact that his Babylon was impenetrable, even if the enemy's military capabilities could mount up to the heavens, so to speak. By rubbing the latter into the faces of the Medo Military Command he would succeed, brilliantly, in his objective, he now thought, with satisfaction.
As the details of a plan were busy taking shape in his mind, he could feel his foul mood beginning to lift. He ordered Tamzi, who, briefly disappeared at his master's sudden fit of rage, but was at his post again, to find Yanzu, the palace scribe, and to es**rt him to the king's chamber, on the double. Upon Yanzu's arrival king Belshatzar ordered him to write on one of his new scrolls exactly what he was about to dictate to him.
When Yanzu had completed his task, the king dismissed him, summoned a messenger to his quarters, handed him the scroll that was sealed with wax, in which the king's ring signet was imprinted, and told him . . . "Now listen, carefully, what I want you to do. Go to the enemy camp and tell whomever you encounter there, first, that you have a personal message for the CIC (Commander in Chief) of the Medo armies, from the King of Babylon.
Make it clear that you have specific orders from your king to deliver this scroll to said CIC, personally, and that you are strictly forbidden, by me, to hand it over to anyone else. Once you are summonsed into the CIC's presence, hand him this sealed scroll while you, clearly speak the following words in his hearing, as well as in the hearing of anyone else who might be there with him, i.e. . . . < These are the terms under which King Belshatzar of Babylon will be willing to surrender the City of Babylon to his Medo Masters. >
Once you have spoken these words and handed over the scroll, ask if you may be dismissed, get out of the enemy camp as quickly as possible, return to Babylon and, immediately, report to me. Sometime later the CIC of the Medo armies for the Babylonian Campaign, one Genl. Ugbaru, felt immense relief when he first heard the words of the Babylonian messenger. Was this Medo Military Embarrassment called Babylon, at last, going to go away, in this manner, without any more fighting?, he, now, asked himself.
That would truly be a dream come true, he thought, after nine long months of trying, in vain, to breach the walls of this impenetrable fortress, in which more of his brave soldiers were mowed down by the Babylonian defence than he could bare to remember. The content of this verbal message was all wrong, though, he thought. It was completely inconsistent with the proud, arrogant nature of its creator.
And why, for all that, he now asked himself, could said messenger not get out of his presence fast enough, after having delivered his master's verbal and written messages to him? His more than three decades of experience in dealing with not a few monarchs of similar disposition to this young Babylonian king, suddenly, convinced him that he was set up by said verbal communicae for something very unpleasant.
He looked at the scroll that was lying on the table in front of him and couldn't help but wonder what manner of insults and profanities it contained. Genl. Ugbaru called his personal aid and ordered him to set up a meeting of the MMHC (Medo Military High Command) as a matter of urgency. If the contents of said scroll was, indeed, an attempt by the king of Babylon to humiliate him and his men, he now thought, he was damned if he was going to face this offensive music all by himself!
Once the meeting was convened and the staff of the MMHC was seated in front of him, the CIC opened proceedings by recounting what transpired between him and the Babylonian
messenger, some hours ago, and repeated the exact words said messenger spoke in his hearing, to everyone present, and then said . . . "Gentlemen, I have my sincere reservations that the contents of this scroll, that I am about to read to you now, has anything, at all, to do with the so called 'terms under which King
Beltshatzar will be willing to surrender the City of Babylon to his Medo Masters', but having said this, I have been wrong on several occasions in my life.
Let us hope, for everyone's sake, that this is another one of those occasions. He now broke the seal of the scroll in question, rolled it open with his hands on the table in front of him and, just before reading its contents to his audience, quickly and silently scanned its first couple of lines. Yea, he thought, I can certainly be wrong, but pigs would have flown already, had I been wrong about this! He began to read, aloud . . .
< From King Belshatzar of Babylon to the staff of the so called MMHC. Hear this now you brood of incompetent, mindless fools. Only in your fantasy worlds will I, King Belshatzar ever surrender the City of Babylon and its people to you and your baboon masters, and without me doing the latter you will, forever, try and fail to conquer this city! You Medo pigs will never set your filthy feet in my beautiful city in order to desecrate it. Haven't 9 whole months already expired since you and your clumsy armies first arrived here at Babylon, and began to pollute
our beautiful and peaceful countryside?
Have you come any closer, today, in finding a way to conquer the unconquerable City of Babylon, than when you had first arrived here with your dreams of finishing us off in your first, insane, attack on our city? All that you have been able to do about Babylon in the course of 9 whole months was to get thousands of your toy soldiers killed in several laughable attempts to breach the city's unbreachable walls. All you can do is to wish Babylon's existence away, but please get this now through your thick skulls . . .
The City of Babylon, it's King and all its people are REAL, and not fairy tales. We cannot be wished away; We are here to stay and I will make it my personal mission to ensure that this city and its
people will be, forever, memorialized as the greatest embarrassment and headache of the so called Medo Empire. These days the commanders of Babylon's defensive army live like KINGS, securely within the unbreachable walls of Babylon, still drawing their big army salaries for doing nil else than overseeing the city's defences and thinking of new ways to torture and kill all Medo swine foolish enough to try to breach its walls.
You pumkinheads, on the other hand, have to live the miserable lives of soldiers of combat, on a daily basis, without wives or family or any such thing. Good, you deserve it, and I, Beltshatzar, will prolong your misery, indefinitely. Behold our beautiful and mighty city of Babylon, you morons, and weep! Just in order to humiliate you even more than you are, already humiliated, if that is even possible, I have decided to throw a massive party for all the mighty Babylonian military men in our city, and their loud celebrations will ring in your and your soldiers' ears throughout the entire night in question.
O, pardon me for almost forgetting to spell it out for you dummies - None of you are invited!! Ha, ha, ha, ha . . . Ha, ha, ha, ha . . . I have, further ordered the captains of the guard to reduce the guards' presence, throughout the entire city, to only one third of its normal strength, on the night in question. Since your
bungling soldiers are completely incapable of mounting, even, a half decent attack against our city, in broad daylight, they will, surely, wipe one another out well before they come within
bow range of the city walls, by night.
Why should the majority of my guards not celebrate the total ineptness of their Medo enemy with all the rest of us, on this night? I will make sure that they do, and that one and all of them will know, exactly, why they will not only get this night off, but will have access to not a little booze and female company, as well. So long, you pathetic mongrels! Signed: Belshatzar - King of Babylon
Genl. Ugbaru slowly rolled the scroll in front of him, up, and looked the shell-shocked men of the MMHC in the face, without saying a word. A couple of agonizing seconds passed before a
young Captain bolted out of his seat, next to the table, punched the air with the clenched fist of his right hand and shouted out . . . < That arrogant son of a bitch, calling himself a king! He has no cooking clue whom he has just insulted! I will, personally, wring his ugly little neck without feeling the slightest bit of remorse while doing so! >
The CIC now noticed that several of his other officers were more than ready to add their own outrage and disgust, at what he had read out to them, to that of said Captain, so he, quickly, motioned with his hands in order to snip any such potential outbursts in the bud. In a calm voice he now addressed said Captain, looking intently at him . . . < I disagree, my dear Kavi. That arrogant spoilt brat does not only know, perfectly well, whom he has insulted, here, today, but your reaction to his insults, a moment ago, is, exactly, how he wants all of us to react.
With regard to personally wringing our offensive hooligan's neck, you can do that with my personal blessing, Captain, but how, exactly, do you propose to do that without finding a way into
his city first? Allowing his young friend sufficient time to respond, the CIC continued only when it became apparent that no answer was forthcoming. Said he to the officers seated in front of him . . . Do I really need to remind any of you how long we have now tried, in vain, to capture this Babylonian fortress, through conventional means? The only "reward" we have ever
received for the latter was an ever rising death toll among our brave soldiers.
Gentlemen, I can do without this kind of reward! I have had more than enough of watching our troops being slaughtered trying to scale those walls, en masse. It stops here. This much we have, hopefully, learned by now, i.e. that we simply won't conquer this city in the way other cities, in our day, are conquered. What we've got ourselves here in this Babylonian plain is a real cat and mouse game. We Medes are the cat and that arrogant upstart of a king, in his fortified cage, is the mouse. Under normal circumstances all the cat has to do is to be patient and wait until the mouse leaves its hole, to do what mice do outside their holes, in order to pounce on him and overcome him.
It may take a while, but sooner or later the mouse must leave the protection of its hole. This is when the cat strikes. Yea, said one of the senior officers, but the circumstances we face, here, are entirely different. This Babylonian mouse doesn't have to leave his hole, at all, because that darn river flowing through it makes him and his people completely self sufficient for years on end. I couldn't have said it better, myself, Bardia!, the CIC said. Thank
you for your input. Genl. Ugbaru continued . . . Bardia, here, has just mentioned our biggest problem in this campaign, i.e. how to pe*****te this mouse's fortified cage without significant loss of life on our side, a problem which we have, admittedly, not been able to solve since we have arrived here, nine months ago, to date.
I will soon address the latter, in detail. Let us for the moment, however, be mindful of this fact, gentlemen, that our Babylonian mouse has not been without his own frustrations in these deadly war games we all play, the most telling of which is the realization
that he is trapped inside his fortified cage, no matter how self sustaining it may be, and that he isn’t going to leave it without the cat knowing about it. Our hooligan king has not been, truly,
free since the time we first arrived at this plain, and although we have now waited a long time for this, particular, frustration to manifest in his life, that day has finally arrived.
Let us, quickly, recognize that this offensive communicae of his, to us, is nil else than a rather clever attempt to discourage us to just give up and withdraw from Babylon, as well as a way to cover up his ever-growing insecurities, fear and anger at his current lack of freedom. Gentlemen, let us never underestimate the gift of true freedom. One cannot understand what one possess in it until one lose it! Let us, also, not fall into the trap he set for us to verbally retaliate, because, like I mentioned before, this is exactly what he is looking for, in order to make the insult impact even bigger.
One and all of you come from the finest military stock, and possess the best military minds I have come across in my entire career as a professional soldier. I will finish, shortly, but
before I do I will, first, tell you what you are going to occupy yourselves with from the very moment I leave this meeting until such time as you come up with a viable solution to our Babylonian problem. Firstly, you will remember, well, how our arrogant Babylonian mouse has ridiculed the MMHC, this day. Secondly, there is always a way into, even, the most
impenetrable fortress, imaginable, gentleman.
You will give yourselves no rest until you find that way into Babylon, in theory, anyway. I remind all of you that the latter better be a subtle way, because I will, certainly, not approve any more direct, mass attacks at the city's walls, in an attempt to get our troops inside the city, that way. It has not succeeded, once, in eight months of trying, and you all know what said attacks cost us in precious human lives. I won't have any more of it, which takes that option off the table, for good.
Thirdly, you will find out the exact night on which our offensive hooligan will throw his drunken party and you will enter his fortress on that same night, when the number of guards on the walls and elsewhere in the city will be reduced, significantly, and will, very likely be intoxicated as well. You will do this by a
way you will still discover, with a small contingent of MSF (Medo Special Forces), who will open the city gates for the rest of our forces under my personal command, from the inside. You will
now excuse me, gentlemen.
I can be found in my quarters, most of the time. Don't bother to disturb me, there, unless you have found a subtle, workable way into that fortress, in theory, at least. Once you have found said way, please disturb me yesterday already! I know you can do
it. Please get on with it; there is no time to waste! With these words the CIC left the meeting and walked the short distance to the tent that served as his own, personal, quarters, greeted the two permanent guards stationed in front of it, and went inside. Inside the tent the Genl. knelt on the carpet, on its floor, and prayed in a barely audible voice, not to one of his people's numerous, worthless gods, but to the Almighty Elohim of Avraham, Yitchchaq and Ya-a-qov, saying . . .
< Almighty Creator of everything that breathes, I worship You alone! I know, very well, that the cause of my people in this Babylonian plain is far from just in Your set-apart eyes, O Heavenly Father, but please hear my petition as one of your covenanted children. Once upon a time I was a proud and zealous young Medo military officer, just like my young friend Capt. Kavi Bukhari, with dreams of conquering the world for our people, and no real concern for the murderous price of military conquest - the thousands of precious human lives lost in combat, quickly written off as "acceptable losses" by people just like me, who have no idea what it feels like for a front line soldier to wonder if the next battle he will be involved in, will be his very last on this earth.
My petition to you is to please show my men, in that Command Centre, the way into that Babylonian fortress. If You will do this for us, O God, I will do the following for You, my Master, i.e. I will confess my faith and trust in You, in an official meeting of the MMHC, which I will call in order to begin the official planning of every stage of Babylon's capture, and I will, certainly, announce my retirement as CIC of the MMHC, effective from the moment Babylon will be captured, in order to distance myself from the terrible world of war, for the rest of my life. I pray all of this in Your Set-apart Name, Amen. >
After his prayer Genl. Ugbaru suddenly felt unbearably tired, so he went over to his bed in the far corner of his tent, lay down on it and, almost immediately, fell into a deep sleep. A mere nine hours later Commander Bardia burst into Genl. Ugbaru's tent and almost, violently, shook the latter awake. We've got it, we've got it! he shouted. Still half asleep the CIC managed to mumble . . . What have you got? Bardia continued, in a highly excited, albeit slightly more subdued voice. "We have found the solution, my dear friend, the solution of how to, subtly, pe*****te that fortress over there, pointing in the direction of Babylon.
What is the solution, Bardia? Ah, now I have your attention don't I, Ugbaru? It just came to me out of nowhere, Bardia said. If you have, indeed, found the solution, Bardia, it, certainly, didn't come to you, "out of nowhere", Genl. Ugbaru said, but when his friend just looked at him with a blank expression on his face, he said, I will explain later, friend. Please continue already! Said Bardia . . The solution lies in that Euphrates River offshoot that enters and exists Babylon beneath its massive walls. Where said offshoot enters the city, is where we will also enter it, once we have successfully diverted the river, upstream.
Ugbaru responded, Interesting, but the only place the latter can be done is at the river side city of Otis, which significant activity will surely make it back to someone in Babylon. Said news will reach Belshatzar and his cronies, who are far from stupid, in no time. They will, quickly, figure out what we are up to and will, heavily, reinforce their manpower at said two areas where the Euphrates offshoot enters and exists the city, beneath its walls. Now I know that you are fully awake, Ugbaru, Bardia said.
The latter continued . . . Other members of the MMHC raised your exact concerns to my plan, but I convinced them that said concerns are top heavy in the sense that all of them rest on the two premises that our activities in diverting said river, upstream at Otis, will, firstly, make it back to Babylon and, secondly, make it back, there, in time for them to do something about it. They all agreed. I have to concur, Ugbaru said. This is what I told the full
house of MMHC members, i.e., "Gentlemen, these are certainly, variables, in this equation, that we can manipulate.
First of all, Otis is not within eye sight of Babylon, so all we need to do is to make doubly sure that the Babylonians will have no clue what we will be busy with at Otis, and secondly, the significant part of the river's diversion our engineers and their work teams will do in the dead of night. We have already cut outsiders' access to Babylon off. Now we just need to, also, ensure that any form of communication to it is, likewise, cut off - a tricky task, but our intelligence people can do it. I have another big concern, Ugbaru said, which is that if we manage to, successfully, divert the offshoot at Otis, the flow of the water into Babylon will cease, the latter which will surely alert the guards on the walls and those stationed at the offshoot's entry and exit points beneath the city walls.
We have also foreseen this concern and discussed it, at length, my friend, said Bardia. The thing is that we will synchronize the offshoot's diversion at Otis, perfectly,, with the time of night we would like our Special Forces to pe*****te the city at the area where said offshoot enters the city. We will also not divert the entire offshoot at Otis, but only enough of it so that the water pressure will be, significantly, reduced throughout its downward flow into Babylon. Said pressure should also not go down, immediately, but only gradually, over a period of about two odd hours, the latter which only the most alert of guards might, perhaps notice, in the dead of night, with a huge party taking place in the city.
Our small contingent of highly efficient Special Forces will be ready at that entry point to enter the city, there, the very moment the water pressure will be reduced, sufficiently, for them to do so. So you see, my friend, Bardia said, that very river that allows Babylon's citizens to hold an enemy like us at bay, for years on end, without any discernible disadvantages to them, is also its biggest security vulnerability. We have always only stared ourselves blind at the former, without seeing the latter, at all.
Genl. Ugbaru just sat there, on the edge of his bed, quite stunned for a couple of seconds.
My God, he thought . . . How utterly "נורא" ("no-ra" = awesome) You are! You have done it! You have actually done it! Now comes the much more difficult part of informing all my colleagues who I really am, in You, and although I won't miss this occupation, at all, once this campaign is over, I will, certainly miss my colleagues, most of whom have become such close friends of mine. He whispered a prayer . . . Oh, my Father, please give me the necessary courage to see these matters through to their latter conclusion. Bardia remarked . . . Did you say something, Ugbaru? The CIC smiled at his friend and said, I was just thinking aloud, friend.
Then he added - You and all the other members of the MMHC did such a sterling job; I am so proud of one and all of you, but now comes the real test in the meticulous planning and finetuning of every aspect of the broad operational strategy that you have just outlined to me. It is crystal clear to me that we will only, ever have this one opportunity to, subtly, enter that fortress in order to open it's gates from the inside. If we mess it up because of sloppy planning, we might as well pack it all up and
leave, immediately, because Beltshatzar will not slip up a second time. He might be pompous and arrogant to the extreme, but stupid he is not!
I would like you to set up an urgent, official meeting of the MMHC, the first one of not a few more in the coming week. We have a mere eight days before Belshatzar's big party. You must tell me, soon, Bardia (not now), just how you managed to get the date of said party confirmed within the space of only 9 odd hours; I would love to hear it! We will need to draw up a schedule for the detailed, step by step, planning of every activity of this campaign, from the very moment I step into that meeting until the hour of ex*****on, on D Day. Very soon after D Day I want to hand that fortress, completely undamaged, over to our honourable king, Daryavesh.
He must have wondered, not a few times already, if he will ever reign from there. We cannot afford to make even one preventable mistake in, either, our planning or ex*****on of all activities pertaining to this campaign. From this moment, onwards, no MMHC member will be excused from attending every single meeting we will call, without my personal permission. Please inform all members of our party to prepare themselves for many more hours of planning and feedback
on progress that has been made in preparation for “D Day”, during the coming week. You are dismissed, friend.
This is how it, then, came to be that . . .
< Belshatzar the sovereign made a great feast for a thousand of his great men and drank wine in the presence of the thousand.
2 While tasting the wine Belshatzar gave orders to bring the gold and silver vessels, which his father, N'vuchadnetzar, had taken from the "היכל" **** which had been in Jerusalem, that the sovereign and his great men, his wives and his concubines could drink from them.
3 Then they brought the gold vessels that had been taken from the "Haychal" of the House (Temple) of Elohim, which had been in Jerusalem. And the sovereign and his great men, his wives and his concubines drank from them.
4 They drank wine and praised the gods of gold and of silver,
of bronze, of iron, of wood and of stone.
5 At that moment the fingers of a man's hand appeared and wrote opposite the lampstand on the plaster of the wall of the sovereign's palace. And the sovereign saw the part of the hand that wrote.
6 Then the sovereign's colour changed and his thoughts alarmed him, so that the joints of his hips were loosened and his
knees knocked against each other.
7 The sovereign called, loudly, to bring in the astrologers, the Chaldeans and the diviners. The sovereign spoke and said to the wise ones of Babylon, "Whoever reads this writing and shows me it's interpretation is robed in purple and has a chain of gold around his neck, and shall be the third ruler in the reign."
8 So all the sovereign's wise ones came, but they were unable to read the writing or to make known it's interpretation to the sovereign.
9 Then sovereign Belshatzar was greatly alarmed, and his colour changed and his great men were puzzled.
10 The sovereigness, because of the words of the sovereign and
his great men, came to the banquet hall. And the sovereigness spoke and said, "O sovereign, live forever! Do not let
your thoughts alarm you, nor let your colour change.
11 There is a man in your reign in whom is the "רוח" ("Ru-ach" = Wind/Spirit) of the Set-apart Elohim. And in the days of your father, light and understanding and wisdom, like the wisdom of the gods, were found in him. And Sovereign N'vuchadnetzar, your father, made him head of the magicians, astrologers, Chaldeans and diviners,
12 because an excellent spirit, knowledge and understanding for
interpreting dreams and explaining riddles and solving difficult problems were found in this Daniel, whom the sovereign named Belt'shatzar. Now let Daniel be called, and let him show the
interpretation."
13 So Daniel was brought in before the sovereign. The sovereign spoke and said to Daniel, "Are you that Daniel who is one of the sons of the Exile from Y'hudah, whom my father the sovereign brought from Y'hudah?
14 I have heard of you, that the Spirit of Elohim is in you, and that light and understanding and excellent wisdom are found in you. 15 And the wise ones, the astrologers, have been brought in before me, that they should read this writing and make known to me its interpretation, but they were unable to show the interpretation of the word.
16 And I, myself, have heard of you, that you are able to give interpretations and to solve difficult problems. Now, if you are able to read the writing and make known its interpretation to me, you are to be robed in purple and have a chain of gold around your neck, and shall be the third ruler in the reign."
17 Then Daniel answered and said before the sovereign, "Let your gifts be for yourself and give your rewards to another. Yet I shall read the writing to the sovereign and make known the interpretation to him.
18 O sovereign, the Most High Elohim gave N'vuchadnetzar, your father, a reign and greatness and prestige and esteem.
19 And because of the greatness which He gave him, all peoples, nations and languages feared him and trembled before him. Whomever he wished he executed and whomever he wished he kept alive, and whomever he wished he raised up, and whomever he wished he brought low.
20 But when his heart was lifted up, and his spirit was so strong as to act proudly, he was put down from the throne of his reign and they took his prestige from him.
21 Then he was driven from the sons of men, and his heart was made like those of the beasts, and his dwelling was with the wild donkeys. He was given grass to eat like oxen, and his body was wet with the dew of the heavens, till he knew that the Most High Elohim is ruler in the reign of men, and he sets up over it whomever He wishes.
22. And you, his son, Belt'shatzar, have not humbled your heart, although you knew all this.
23 And you have lifted yourself up against the Master of the heavens. And they brought before you the vessels of His House (i.e. the Holy Temple that stood in Jerusalem), and you and your great men, your wives and your concubines, have been drinking wine from them. And you have praised the gods of silver, and of gold, of bronze, of iron, of wood, and of stone, which neither see nor hear nor know. But the Elohim who holds your breath in His hand and owns all your ways, you have not made great.
24 Then the part of the hand was sent from Him and this writing was inscribed.
25 And this is the writing that was inscribed:
"מנא מנא תקל ופרסין"
("M'NE M'NE T'-QEL U-PHARSIN")
26 This is the interpretation of each word:
M'-NE - Elohim has numbered your reign and put an end to it.
27 T'-QEL - You have been weighed on the scales and found lacking
28 PERES - Your reign has been divided and given to the Medes and Persians.
29 Then Belshatzar gave orders and they robed Daniel in purple and put a chain of gold around his neck, and they proclaimed concerning him that he is the third ruler in the reign. > [Daniel 5:1-29]
It was approximately 02:00 on Friday morning the 27th Tishri. Capt. Habibi (meaning "my beloved") & his 13 men of the MSF (Medo Special Forces) were, slowly, making their way to Babylon's northern wall, beneath which the Euphrates offshoot entered the city. Their progress was slow, because they were approaching the wall while crawling on their bellies through a
quite flat, open terrain. Each of them wore easy fitting dark brown clothes. Dark camouflage was applied to all body parts that their clothing didn't cover, so that they could barely be seen
from a few meters away, standing upright, never mind, while slowly, crawling towards their destination, on the surface of the earth.
Someone up there has, moreover given them a moonless night in order to carry out their critical mission of getting inside that fortress and opening its gates for the Medo armies that were
ready and waiting on the outside, for just this occurrence, Habibi now thought. It must, surely, be a sign that the Medo gods are with us! He couldn't be sure, yet, but it seemed to him as if the sound that the water, in the Euphrates offshoot makes when it is at full strength,, as it flowed downwards into the city beneath the very wall he and his men were approaching, was already somewhat less than usual. It must mean that his people have already begun with the actual diversion of the river, upstream at Otis. I will, soon, know, for sure, he thought.
The only weapons he and his men had on them were two knives, in the use of which each man was an expert, and a water tight
pouch in which they will put their clothes as they make their way through the water beneath the massive wall, into the city. In another 25 minutes odd the 14 MSF soldiers were standing at
the base of the wall, on the eastern river bank, and watched the water flow, intently. The water pressure is certainly down from its usual strength, Habibi remarked, in a whisper, but it is still too strong for us to enter it. We will have to wait for another 90 odd minutes, he told his men. It is a good thing, because it will give you time to mentally prepare yourselves for the killing you will, soon, once again, have to do without a moment's hesitation.
Habibi continued . . . At the appointed time we will enter the river in the two teams of seven men each, we determined earlier, in our underclothes only. I will lead Team A and Usan over here will lead team B. My team will be responsible to deal with any resistance on the river's eastern bank, as it enters into the city, and Team B will have to deal with resistance on the western bank. Do your killing lightning fast and silently and remove the dead as swiftly and silently as possible out of eyesight, because if any of our actions alert the guards on top of the wall, we will be as good as dead when they raise the alarm, and much more importantly, our entire mission will have failed right at that point.
He now called Usan to the side and said . . . Our two shofar blowers under your command can take care of themselves as well as any of the rest of us can, nevertheless, stay close to them and make sure that they have no altercations with the enemy. Also personally check for me that their shofars are inside their
water tight pouches. Addressing all his men, once again, in more whispers, Habibi said - Make doubly sure that your two knives cannot be dislodged from their sheaths, as you move
through the water, that said sheaths are firmly secured to your bodies and that you will have instant access to them in those critical seconds when you will need to hurl them at the enemy.
Since we have only 28 knives among us and no idea of enemy strength at the point where this river enters the city, you will stick, religiously, to our MSF tried and tested procedure of target
selection, so that two or more knives will not end up killing the same target, but only one. If there are more than 28 targets, you will use any weapon you can find, or your bare hands to, swiftly, kill them. Make sure that the release cords of your water tight pouches are firmly secured around your waists, because if you lose your pouches, you will, certainly, continue to carry out your mission in your undergarments. That is it; spend the rest of the available time to physically and mentally prepare yourselves for the mission ahead. May the Medo gods grant us success.
As Habibi withdrew to his own personal space at the base of the wall, he heard a conversation between two Babylonian guards on top of the wall, drifting down towards him. He saw that some other members of his team, in his immediate vicinity, heard it too, but only he could understand it . . .
Rihat: Bashaa, something is wrong here. I know the noise the water in that river, down there, make, better than I know the back of my hand. For the last hour, approximately, I have barely
been able to hear the sound of the water. I know it so well that it disturbs me when I don't hear it. What disturbs me even more is that I can't see the river on this moonless night.
Bashaa, please talk some sense into the mind of this guy, yesterday already, Habibi prayed, silently, while thinking . . . There is always one around who can ruin everything one has planned, so meticulously, in a moment, isn't there? Then, as if by magic, his prayer was answered in the words . . .
Bashaa: Rihat, my friend, you, seriously, need to relax and, please, remember what night this is. If we should dare to disturb our watch commander, who is very likely busy sleeping off the after effects of some serious celebrations earlier tonight, at this ungodly hour, with, let us see, . . . a report that we think an alarm should be raised because we are not able to hear the sound the
water in the Euphrates offshoot usually makes, from our station on the wall, he will, almost certainly, abuse us, verbally, suggest that we are not worth to be called soldiers and, not least of all, make sure that we are fired.
Rihat: I suppose you are right, friend. We will soon enough know what is going on in the river, below.
Now that's more like it, Rihat, old chum, Habibi silently mumbled to himself, feeling not a little bit relieved at the latter's response. Yes, you will know soon enough, but not before your city is
conquered by the Medo military, because of the heroic actions of 14 members of its elite MSF Unit, in the next couple of hours.
Did you say something, friend, Usan, who watched his friend,
intently, in the dark night, whispered. You had me a bit worried there for a moment. Was it something those two, up there on the wall, said? Yea, Habibi whispered, but it is going to be o.k. He signalled the same to his men, who all heard the same conversation. Habibi now got up from where he sat down, approached the water and stepped into it. When he reached the
centre of the river, the water reached just over his waist, at its highest point, and there was no real pressure to speak of. His people really diverted the offshoot, upstream, he thought. They
really did it!
The water level and pressure were just about perfect for their mission into the city now. As he made his way back to the river bank, he gave his men the five minute "heads up" signal. Five minutes later the 14 MSF soldiers were, silently making their way into the city of Babylon through the slowly diminishing waters of the Euphrates offshoot that flowed into the
city, beneath its massive wall, at this point. It took the men all of six odd minutes to reach the area where the offshoot entered the city, proper. By this time they were no longer walking
through the water, but, rather, slowly drifting in it, with only their heads sticking out above its surface.
Habibi and his six men spotted five Babylonian guards on the offshoot's eastern bank, two of whom were highly inebriated. In seconds all five of them had knives protruding from their throats. The men quickly retrieved their knives from their targets' throats, after which the latter died, almost instantaneously. The seven MSF men quickly discovered three more guards that were completely passed out. They gagged them and tied them up, thoroughly. They then, quickly, removed the latter and their dead comrades out of sight.
Usan and his six men, encountered six Babylonian guards on the offshoot's western bank at which they hurled their knives, with deadly accuracy. All six guards died very soon after the knives pe*****ted, deeply, into the soft flesh of their throats. The men, soon, discovered two more guards in a guard house on the river bank. They were arguing and drinking heavily. Two of Usan's men overpowered them, gagged them and tied them up. The men removed all eight bodies out of sight and then, quickly, crossed through the offshoot's ever diminishing water in order to join their seven colleagues, in a secluded spot, just off its eastern bank.
Habibi's debrief of Usan took all of fifteen odd seconds. Having satisfied himself that everything on the offshoot's western bank went according to plan, he motioned to all his men to join him in a tight circle and then said . . . Well done, men, stage 2 of our operation could not have worked out better for us, but time is
of the absolute essence now. Both teams have their orders. We will now all, quickly and silently, put on our dry clothes and then, immediately, get on with stage 3 of our operation. If you feel
that you need an extra weapon, beside your knives, please help yourselves to the dead guards' swords. Babylon must be ours in the next hour or so; I will settle for nothing less.
Usan and his men began to, silently, make their way to the huge Ishtar Gate, outside of which Genl. Ugbaru's army were waiting. The Babylonian guards guarding that gate would never expect to be attacked from inside the city. They would have to delay their attack for approximately 50 odd minutes, though, enough time for Habibi and his men to find the king's quarters, eliminate any
resistance there and detain the king. The latter would give them leverage if, somehow, his team won't be able to open the Ishtar gate for their forces.
I will, however, see that gate opened for our military, even if it is the last thing on earth I do, Usan now thought. It is so clear that "the gods" have been with us, thus far; to fail at this stage will be more than criminal. Before he and his men had ever entered the city, Medo intelligence learned the shortest way to the Babylonian palace from the very area Habibi and his men now found themselves in. Just as well, Habibi thought, as he now orientated himself; we would, otherwise, have wasted a lot of time finding the palace in this huge city in the still pitch black,
moonless early hours of this hugely significant day. Some six minutes later the men located the palace and were making their way to its back where Habibi knew the kitchens were located.
Silently killing the two Babylonians, who guarded this entrance into the palace grounds, was a mere formality for Habibi and one of his men, after which the team entered the kitchen area. There they saw a well-dressed palace servant sitting at a table reading something and two cooks at the far side of the kitchen busy with food preparation. They quickly overpowered the servant, silently threatened him with immediate death if he dared opened his mouth and shoved him into a secluded corner of the kitchen, out of sight of the two cooks. The scared to death servant, quickly, agreed to show Habibi and his men the way to the king’s quarters from where they now found themselves.
After tying said servant's hands behind his back, gagging him and reminding him, again, what unpleasant fate would befall him should he make one false move in order to elicit some help, Habibi silently pushed him forward and said, After you . . . A mere ten meters away, just around the corner from where they were, the servant stopped right in front of the stone wall and motioned towards a doorway, that would have been quite
impossible to spot for someone who was not taken directly to it, since it looked exactly like the rest of the wall, but was, in fact, a kind of sliding door made of a very light material.
One of Habibi's men slid it open and, almost immediately, they began to climb up a dimly lit stone staircase that was covered, all the way, in some kind of soft, deep red, velvety substance. Up
and up they went and just as Habibi began to wonder when and where their ascent would end, the staircase levelled out onto a small landing area. At its far end Habibi quickly peeked around the corner, to his right, into a fairly long and well-lit hallway, at the end of which he saw about half a dozen palace guards sitting around a table playing some kind of card game.
Behind the table he thought he saw a big, closed, wooden door. In the split second before he pulled his head back into the landing area, he noticed several swords leaning against the two hallway walls, in close proximity to the guards they belonged to. This won't be easy, he thought, glumly! The men sitting around that table are só not the next, average soldiers guarding the walls and gates of this city, but, rather, the bravest and best trained, elite soldiers of the Babylonian army, and drunk they, most certainly, won't be! He turned back to his men and whispered to them, we have no small problem on our hands, here, and only a very limited time frame in which to solve it, so listen carefully . . .
Ashkan, take this servant down a couple of steps from here, out of our immediate space, but not out of our eyesight, tie down his feet as well, sit him up against the wall and, then, quickly return here. Off you go! When Ashkan returned, just over a minute later, Habibi motioned his six men closer and continued . . . There are about six elite enemy soldiers guarding the way to what I believe can only be the king's personal quarters. The guards are sitting around a table that is standing close to the door of said quarters, playing some kind of card game.
The hallway leading up to the table is approximately 25 metres from where we find ourselves now. It is well lit, but it is only about four metres wide, which means that we won't be able to attack the enemy from the wide arc we will need in order to eliminate all of them, in one go, with our knives. At best, we will only be able to take out two of them this way (three if we are very fortunate), depending on the formation they will be in when they come charging down that corridor to engage us, before their remaining three or four will be right on top of us.
At this point our knives will be useless to us. Whatever their attack formation may turn out to be, we will approach them in a 3-3-1 formation down said hallway, with myself, Ashkan and Marzban making up the front row, Bijan, Kamran and Farhad the second and Ervin bringing up the rear, everyone positioned from our left to right. Our front row will eliminate their front row (whether that will account for two or three of their men, we cannot know, yet) with our knives, according to our default target selection procedure -
from our left engaging from their right, in a straight line, and Marzban on the far right engaging a random target with his knife, if there are only two of them in their front line, and if there is a clear throwing line to said target in the available second or two he might have before we will be forced to use these, pointing to the Babylonian swords all seven of them took off seven of the five dead and three tied up guards at what was their side of the river bank. Just as well we did that, Habibi now though
* meaning "bel (another name for the Babylonian god, "marduq") has protected the king" - This name is rather amusing, because on the night when said king needed "bel's" protection the
most, to save him from the pronounced judgement of the one true God of the Universe, bel, of course, failed, spectacularly, in doing just that. Only a few hours after God's hand sealed king
Belshatzar's fate on that inner palace wall (Daniel 5:24-28 refer), he was very dead.
** in the sense of ancestor or predecessor rather than biological father
*** meaning, "the sun of life"
**** ("Hay-chal" = Sanctuary - the building that contained the Holy and Most Holy Places in Almighty Elohim's
Holy Temples, that stood on Temple Mount in Jerusalem)
