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From "My Redemption" by General Alfred Dreyfus (ret.), Judean Military Academy Press, 1928 (translated from the Hebrew)

"The morning of November 10, I received a most unexpected visitor. I heard a knock at the door, and when I glanced outside, I saw a carriage drawn up bearing a Turkish flag, complete with two soldiers in Turkish uniform. I opened the door and beheld a slim, well-dressed man standing at the door, holding a briefcase. He looked European, but with the tan of a man who had spent time in a sunny climate. I did not think I had met the man before, but his face looked familiar.

"Shalom, Captain Dreyfus," the man greeted me in an Austrian accent. "A pleasure to meet you at last."

I was about to ask the man's name, when the pieces fell into place. The face. The tan. The Austrian accent. The Ottoman guards. The Hebrew greeting. "Governor Herzl, I presume," I replied, pleased to note the man's surprise at being recognized so quickly, and invited the Governor in.

For a few minutes, we exchanged pleasantries. I asked him how the voyage from Jerusalem had been, and he inquired after my wife and son. My sister brought us refreshments. I then asked him how his own work was proceeding. I had, in fact, been following the Zionist project through the newspapers. I had been originally informed of it by my brother shortly after returning to France, and after being pardoned, I had found it a most unexpected development. That the injustice inflicted upon me had provoked outrage and sympathy across the world had not come as a great surprise. In my brighter moments on Devil's Island, I had allowed myself to hope that I was not suffering in obscurity. But I had been surprised to see a Jewish political movement emerge in response to my misfortunes, and to learn that the Sultan had lent his support.

Herzl began with generalities. He spoke of the difficulties in establishing a new administration, especially when he had no political experience himself. He spoke of the waves of Jewish immigrants, many poor Russian peasants, arriving daily in Yaffa and Haifa. He spoke of the generosity of the Sultan and the Rothschilds. He then informed me that it was his work that brought him here. Curious, I asked him what role I might play. He then described his meeting with the Sultan earlier this year, including their plans for the creation of the Jerusalem Guard. I had not read any of this, and he provided some details as to the nature of this force. With the skill of a reporter, he led me to inquire as to who might command the first Jewish army in centuries.

He grinned. "Well, as it happens, I thought you would make the ideal candidate."



And so the choice was laid out before me. If I accepted, it would mean abandoning any thought of returning to French service. I would have to leave this country, where I had lived almost my entire life, and travel to a distant land. Quite possibly, I would never see France again. My son would grow up in exile - or, rather, would grow up as something other than French. My enemies would see my actions as an admission of guilt. Most likely, my name would never be cleared.

But at that point, my hopes for a revision had grown dim. The President might have pardoned me, but he had chosen to resolve the affair based on the interests of the state, not the path of justice. I might have loved France, as I do to this day, but it was increasingly clear that France did not love me, that she no longer desired my services, that I could not be both Frenchman and Jew. But if I could not be a Frenchman, I could still be a Jew.[1]

Besides, there were other reasons. Accepting the offer would mean a return to work, enabling me to support my family as a man should, rather than being dependent on the charity of family and strangers. And it would not be a simple return to my previous duties, but an advancement to the rank of general - surely the dream of every officer! More than that, I would be creating a new force. Every officer has his own ideas of how an army should be run, but precious few can make those ideas a reality, even those who advance to high command. I would not merely command the Jerusalem Guard. I would be its creator.

I was also motivated by a feeling of helplessness. For years, I had languished in prison, barely aware of my own case. Others had fought for me, while others used my supposed crimes to attack others. Only at the very end had I been able to affect my fate in any way, and even now I was still a victim. This was an opportunity to take back control of my life, to once again command my own destiny. If I declined, history would remember me only as Captain Dreyfus, who was falsely accused of treason. But if I accepted, perhaps General Dreyfus would be known not only for what was done to him, but what he did...


From "Rise of the Scorpion: The Epic Founding of the Judean Legion" by David Scott, Thomas Dunne Books, 2002

...Dreyfus' health had been badly affected by his imprisonment on Devil's Island, so he elected to delay his departure for the Holy Land by a year. But he was not idle during that time.

In January, he returned to Paris, and threw himself into preparations. He studied military history and the geography of the Holy Land. He learned Turkish enough that he could read the regulations of the Ottoman military in the original. He also met with other Jewish officers, seeking to recruit additional personnel. His former classmate, Captain Picard [2], volunteered to serve as his chief of staff...

...On September 22, 1900, Dreyfus and his family set out for Jerusalem. They sailed from Marseilles, arriving in Constantinople on October 2. On October 5, Dreyfus was summoned to the Sultan's Palace, where he would be formally sworn into the Sultan's service.

The ceremony was deliberately orchestrated as a reversal of Dreyfus' own degradation. To the sound of bugles, he was first presented with his uniform jacket. The newly-designed insignia of the Jerusalem Guard was sewn on. The Sultan himself pinned the stars on Dreyfus' shoulder. Finally, he was given his dress sword, which had been heated to a glow as if it had only just been forged. Dreyfus plunged it into a barrel filled with water, and was briefly engulfed in steam. When the steam cleared, standing at attention before the Sultan was General Alfred Dreyfus...

[1] IOTL, Dreyfus seems to have thought of himself exclusively as a Frenchman. His own memoirs contain no mention of his faith. ITTL, he did come to identify as a Jew, and he is writing this account with an eye towards its reception.

[2] Captain Picard (whose first name I have been unable to find), was a classmate of Dreyfus. He had sought to serve on the General Staff, but was denied due to poor grades from an anti-Semitic instructor. Obviously, I could hardly not make use of someone by his name...