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The hammering of picks and scraping of shovels melded with the boom of artillery, the sharp

cracks of handguns, and dull thuds as cannonballs impacted Earth and Stone.

Spetted under the heat of the summer sun, digging out trenches, artillery and placements

and tunnels.

Gunners heaved their cannon back into position after a shock, rolled heavy barrels of gunpowder

and hefted iron and stone cannonballs and explosive shells, grunting and shouting with

the effort.

Janice Err is in their distinctive, folded overcaps, rested their archibuses on rocks and

the earthen embankments of siege works.

They sighted down the barrels, picked out targets on the walls, took aim and carefully

squeezed the triggers.

Sieges were noisy of faders, particularly when the will of the Sultan turned all the

tremendous might of the Ottoman Empire toward the task.

Their target was worthy of the attention here in September of 1522.

The fortress of Rhodes loomed ahead, a massive and imposing edifice, a series of high thick

walls studded with bastions, deep stone-blind ditches to trap attackers and cannon of their

own, booming back at those attackers.

Silent and impassive, his slim face shaded by an enormous white turban, a man watched

the proceedings with calculated interest.

The late summer heat bore down, the rays of the Mediterranean sun causing a slight trickle

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