A RIDGE OF WAVES - Part 02

a hug like I was her own son. “Run home now!” she said “Your mother is anxiously waiting for you!” It was true; when I arrived home both of my parents were waiting for me. That day was also a holiday; Atanasov day and people were not at work. When my mother saw me she began to cry. She was happy to see me. “Don’t cry mother, I am here now!” I said. “The worst is over and a better life is awaiting us,” I added. “It is true, it is true!” said my aunt Olga as she too gave me a big hug. In no time our neighbours began to arrive and we all joyfully celebrated my return from prison. During the summer I went to work at the brick factory. During the fall I decided to take some time off and dedicate myself to studying French philology, an old dream of mine. But in order for me to go back to school I needed an endorsement from someone who would vouch for me that I was a Party member or a trusted Bulgarian, of which I was neither and as a result I could not apply for the course. I was left with the comfort that I was alive and well and that there were thousands of young men like me without a university degree. It has not been easy for me and to this day I feel unhappy because I did not get a good education, when I know how incompetent and how useless most of the enterprise, school etc. directors are these days. Thus I spent my monotonous lonely time working and surviving. All my classmates from my past were in university, some were even married. But dopey me, I hung around young men four - five years my junior. One winter night on November 20, 1961 when I was walking along the Petrich “Gezme” with my friend Vangel, we met Anche, sister of my former girlfriend Velichka, who at the time was walking with her friends Roza and Nonka. The three girls, who had just completed grade eleven, looked very beautiful. The first time we passed by them I said nothing to them but the second time I decided to ask Anche if I could talk to her in private. It was not my intention to separate her from her friends but only to enquire about Velichka. In the ten months after my return to Petrich, I often came across Anche, but made no attempt to speak with her. She knew that I was her older sister’s former boyfriend but we both pretended that we did not know each other. I felt I had no need to talk to her. I knew she was a bit cold and unapproachable so I never expressed an interest to stop and talk with her. But this evening was different. “For the first time since I returned from prison, Anche, I decided that I wanted to speak with you. Is that okay with you?” I asked her. “And what do you want to talk about?” she replied. “I simply want to ask you about this and about that,” I said. “Ah, so you found out that

my sister is back in town and that’s why you want to speak to me!” she replied. “How come she is back?” I asked. “Well, she is back and she has been standing by the window looking outside to see if you would pass by,” she replied. “Is that true?” I asked. “Yes, it’s true!” she replied. “So then there is nothing more for us to talk about!” I said and walked away from everyone. The same evening at around 9 o’clock I whistled with my usual whistle as I passed by Velichka’s street and in about two minutes she was back in my embrace. “Hello, welcome back, nice to see you again!” she said. I too said hello and how nice it was to be together again after a long separation and then we shared a long kiss. “How did you know I was back today?” she asked. “I spoke with your sister Anche and she told me,” I replied. I told Velichka about my short encounter with her sister Anche and she laughed. “You know that she is a bit wild, right?” Velichka asked. “I passed her so many times during our walks in the ten months since I was released from prison but I never made an attempt to speak with her. I don’t know what made me want to talk to her today. Something made me want to stop her so I gathered all my courage and stopped her, just to say hello. I then found out you were here,” I said. “So you are trying to tell me that you instinctively felt that I was here?” she asked. “Yes, there may be such a thing, or perhaps it was a random coincidence,” I replied. “It was no coincidence that I thought about you all day and that I waited for you to pass by our place. That kind of stuff is still unexplained by science. People do experience unexplained feelings you know,” she explained. “Perhaps you are right!” I said as I again pulled her into my arms. After that we went back to my place and we resumed our beautiful love affair the same way as it was before I had been taken to prison. During the month of February they gathered all the men to be drafted as work soldiers (soldiers who will spend their entire draft working) from Petrich and the surrounding area and took them to Blogoevgrad. I was not included among them. One day I met Kitso Jankulov, an operations employee from the Regional Administration office of the Ministry of the Interior – Petrich and I asked him: “Why did they not take me when they took the work soldiers from Petrich? If you don’t take me this year, don’t expect me to go voluntarily later because I’d rather go to jail than be drafted later at an older age,” I said. After listening to my pleas and threats he said he would do everything possible to help me. So on April 22, 1962 I was ordered to go to Blagoevgrad and report to the Military District Administration

office where I was inducted in the Petrich Military, Unit number 1640, and placed under the command of Georgi Ianakiev. This gave me an opportunity to again, without problems, renew my relationship with Velichka who I got to see practically every night. Velichka had left her husband in Sofia before she came back to Petrich. But all was not well. During one of our visits Velichka complained to me that, according to one of her neighbours, my mother had said that she did not want her as a daughter-in-law because she was divorced. That hurt me a lot. How could my modest mother say such things? The next morning I went to see her and told her that: “I will live with whom I want and you have no right to speak about Velichka that way, especially with her neighbours!” My mother said nothing; perhaps there was no need to say anything because she knew that soon, in May of 1962, I would be transferred, for some time, to a military unit in the village Mitino, Petrich Region. One day a few of us work soldiers went for a swim in the Struma River. The river was swollen with water but a young man named Sergei and I wagered that we could make it across the turbulent river, so we plunged in. After struggling for a while I managed to stay afloat and advanced about 50 metres into the strong flow at which point I turned around to see how Sergei was doing, but he was not there. As I looked around I saw the men on the coast waving at me, telling me to turn back. I decided to reverse my direction and started swimming back with all my strength against the strong current. The harder I fought the further away the current pulled me and I could see that the river was widening. In time and with every stroke I began to lose confidence in my ability to fight the water and began to yell for help. It was not long after that that I lost all my strength. I tried to sink to the bottom to rest but the bottom was too deep. Then with my last ounce of strength I began to swim upstream towards the coast, which was about 40 metres away. At that point I noticed that three or four of the soldiers had jumped into the river and were waiting for me. Again I tried to touch the bottom of the river and again the bottom was too deep. I pushed hard towards the coast with my last ounce of strength and at that critical moment when I thought that the river was going to swallow me, I stopped struggling and put my feet down. Lucky for me the place was shallow and my feet touched ground. I quickly stood up and emerged chest deep out of the water. If I had had to swim, even for a few more seconds, I am sure that I would have drowned. At this point the coast was only about 15 metres away so as I struggled to walk towards it I caught a tree root and held myself there until the soldiers came and pulled me out.

I survived my episode and there would be plenty more life in me to live and suffer. But had the soldiers not warned me in time, I am sure I would have been before Saint Peter in the other world… I was alive but not without punishment. When the Unit Commander found out, the next day when we were in line he asked me to step forward so everyone could see who I was and to teach me a lesson. “Stoian Georgiev, take three steps forward in front of the line!” ordered Captain Ianakiev. “Yes, Captain, Sir!” I said and stepped three steps forward. “Look at your fellow soldier! Look at this young and handsome man! Yesterday he almost drowned and left a spot on the good record of our unit. Therefore he deserves the most severe of punishments, he deserves to go to jail!” declared my commanding officer. The Captain said enough things in an arrogant tone of voice and finally turned to me and said: “You revolting Macedonian you don’t deserve to breathe the air in Bulgaria!” I did not like what he said last so I said: “Comrade Commander this is Macedonia and you don’t deserve to breathe its air!” My reply made him furious and he said: “March, 5 days in jail! I will send you to court, you disgusting man!” I spent five days in jail. And as I found out later, he really tried to send me to court but my parents made an appeal to Kolio Kiuchotok, a cousin of my father’s, who was married to Ianakiev’s sister-in-law. Kiuchotok advised Ianakiev not to do it. Having family ties did help my situation this time; I am sure I would have been sent to jail had I been tried. After that I was transferred out of Unit 1640 - Petrich and sent to serve with Unit 3416 in a place called “Ilinka Reka”, three kilometres away from the Rila Monastery. Being sent far away from Petrich I was now again separated from Velichka, my first love. Three months later when I returned to Petrich on leave, I found out that Velichka had married a divorced man from Sofia who lived with his five-year old child. I had to spend two winters in the “Ilinska Reka” facilities. We were building a road leading to the mountain lodge “Macedonia” and I worked as an explosives technician. I drilled holes in the rocks with a pneumatic drill and then stuffed them with explosives and blew them up. I spent the summer of 1963 in an army camp in a place called “Tursko Parche”. One day the artist assigned to the Blagoevgrad battalion came to visit us in order to compose some slogans. I noticed that he had a nice magazine which had a photograph of a beautiful landscape. He seemed like a good-natured person so I asked him if I

could borrow the magazine in order to paint the landscape. He agreed and loaned it to me. In about two and a half hours I had the landscape painted on a 180 by 140 cm canvas. It was a true classic image. The artist was impressed and asked me if I had finished art academy. The painting was hung on the walls of the Unit’s dining room for everyone to admire. At the end of 1963 we were transferred to the city Bobov Dol. I completed my military service on April 22, 1964, after which I returned home. A week later I went to visit my old unit at “Ilinska Reka” but by then the unit had already been disbanded and the painting I had painted was gone, someone had taken it. So my oil painting is now decorating someone else’s home. It was a painting of a beautiful landscape with seashore in the foreground, a fisherman fishing and a white seagull flying over his head. There was a green mountain landscape on the sides and in the background. It appears that it was not my destiny to have the painting! A little later my father informed me that my former math teacher, Gerasim Popov was looking for me and wanted to see me. In my younger days in high school I was his pride in mathematics. The next day I went to the school “Koco Mavroliev” where he was and he greeted me with the following words: “Stoian, you too are like me; a non-Party communist. I think you may be feeling depressed in your soul after serving in prison. I want to let you know that I was promoted and now am inspector of Mathematics in the Department of Education in Blagoevgrad. I have a job offer for you at the village Dolene, should you want it. You will teach fifth, sixth and seventh grade elementary school mathematics. I believe it is a great offer and you should take it.” My first reaction was that I did not want to take a teaching job because I was compromised for having been in prison, but the man insisted. He convinced me that I had the right skills and the strength to be useful to the students in this mountainous village. He also said many other things that would be in my favour. After much discussion, I finally agreed and at the end of April I was already working as an undergraduate teacher in the village Dolene. A week after I started teaching I tested the math skills of the students in the fifth, sixth and seventh grade by giving them an algebra exam. Unfortunately, I got very disappointing results! Out of the 29 students I tested in grade five, 22 got 2 out of 6. Of the 22 students I tested in grade six 17 got 2’s. Of the 19 students I tested in grade seven 14 received a low grade. Many were not doing their work. Their previous teacher was the wife of the school principal. She was on

maternity leave. It appears that she did not do her job well because the students did not even know the math basics. Since the bus from Petrich traveled to the village Dolene only twice a week on Saturday and Monday, I had to rent a place to stay in Dolene. I used my afternoons to help the children who needed extra help learning the basic rules of algebra and geometry. After two months of persistent effort, no one from the fifth or sixth grade was left behind to repeat math. Only one girl in the seventh grade had poor marks and had to repeat math. One boy I passed without deserving the 3. He later finished school for professional chauffeurs. So my first and last job as an educator ended in June at which time Aleksandar Panev, the school principal, gave me an excellent character reference letter. During the fall of 1964 I enrolled myself as a part-time student in the “Hristo Botev” Technical School in Sofia. Then in the spring of 1965 I got a job as a painter. After that I met my current wife Maria. Maria at the time was going to the same school for making clothes in Petrich as my youngest sister Vida. We got married in October of the same year and on December 25 our first child, a girl, was born. We named her Dimitrina, after my mother. Four years later, in 1969, our second daughter was born. We named her Elena, after my wife’s mother. In the technical school I specialized in “Surveying and Cartography” and quickly learned how to use the surveying equipment. In the summer of 1966, when I was still a student, I completed a survey in area of the DSP "Greenhouses" in Petrich for the engineer Zdravev. My work was deemed excellent so I was given more surveys to do. In fact an entire 320 acre facility was given to me to oversee. I had 110 workers to whom every day I gave levels for stacking concrete slabs, drains etc. They also gave me an assistant to help me out, who in effect had completed the “Surveying and Cartography” course three years before. Here, at my first facility, I met Dano Donev, Sofia RMA chief, who offered me a job to lead the Petrich to Marikostinovo and the Kula to Sandanski road construction. So I, along with two others from the village Marino Pole, measured and inspected road work all day long. This is where I met Sokrat Markilov, my future accomplice. That was in 1968. Sokrat came to work at my facility as an Assistant Bulldozer Operator who, along with other bulldozer operators, was responsible for clearing the land and leveling the area where the roads were to be built. In April 1969 I left the Sofia RMA and I started a new job as a construction technician at the General Construction Enterprise in

Petrich. Here I was assigned to one of the largest buildings in the city, expanding the Canning Factory. After seven months the director of the company asked me to go to the village Krst in Petrich Region and complete my education. I declined his offer and left the Canning Factory and went to work as an investor in the facilities in Petrich, under the direction of Blagoevgrad Investments. Since I had not completed the “Construction and Architecture” course, the director of the company insisted that I enroll in the Technical School and finish it. I participated in the first session of the course and wrote two exams but then I found out that even if I had finished the entire course I could not become an engineer so I decided to quit! After that I quit my investor job and went to work as a technical service manager for the “River Strumitsa Correction” section operating between the villages Kavrakirovo and Prvomai. Here at the “River Strumitsa Correction” section, I worked with about fifty workers who transported materials by truck to and from the facility. They made protective fences in the path of the bulldozers. They delivered stones, poles and other building materials to the work site with dump trucks hired from “Avtostopanstvo” in Petrich. Responsibility for counting the number of deliveries made by the truck drivers was given to Andon Radev, a conscientious worker and a very serious man from the village Belasitsa. One morning in the spring of 1970, I took the bus to work instead of riding my MZH 150 motorcycle. When I got off at the village Prvomai I ran into Sokrat Markilov who had also gotten off the same bus. He asked me if we could talk and I agreed. During our conversation, among other things, he mentioned that there was a Macedonian organization in the process of being formed. My reply to that was: “Anyone who embarks on the Macedonian question needs to have their head examined.” I simply did not want to talk to him regarding this matter because I did not know him well enough to trust him. Until then he had not been part of the Macedonian movement. At that time I met with people secretly and would not talk to just anyone. Thus we parted ways without me revealing to Sokrat my true feelings towards his organization. During the next month and a half, Sokrat waited for me at the Petrich bus station where I usually got off the bus in the evening coming back from work. On one occasion he mentioned to me that he was out of work and that he had four children to support etc. I felt sorry for him and the next time he stopped me I said: “Tomorrow morning at 7 o’clock be at the bus station and I will give you a job at the facility where I work.” “And what will I be doing

there?” he asked, concerned. “The same thing the others are doing, working. We will figure something out,” I replied. We then parted company that evening. The next morning at 7 o’clock I found him waiting for me at the bus station. We waited a little while for the transport car arriving with workers from the village Topolnitsa and the two of us took the car to the facility. Here, after all the workers had breakfast and left to go to work, Sokrat stayed behind with me and Andon, the person I mentioned earlier who was responsible for counting the truck loads. I said to Andon: “Listen Andon, I want you and Sokrat to work together to count truck loads. I want you to alternate days, one day you count, the next day Sokrat counts. However, I don’t want people to suspect that I am paying two counters. When you are not counting loads you will be doing something else. I don’t believe you will mind if I assign you to plant willow trees? All you have to do is cut green willow branches and stick them into the sandy soil near the water so that they will grow into trees. In addition to that job you can level soil with a rake here and there on the road edge where the bulldozers have left ridges. There are no norms for these jobs so you can work as much as you want, just don’t give people the impression that you are not working or give them the opportunity to get us into trouble because I am paying for two counters.” “I have no problem with that; I will do as you say Comrade Chief!” replied Done. I then turned to Sokrat and said: “I think we understand each other, right?” After that I went over to the workers who were driving stakes into the ground and knitting fences around them to hold the crushed rock. Happy about his new situation and interested to know me better, Sokrat often invited me to visit at his place and watch television. During these visits, he introduced me to Ivan Timchev and Ilia Kochev, both from the village Kamene, Pavle and Todor from Petrich, and others. From the meeting I had with them and from generally talking to them I understood and accepted the idea that there truly was a newly formed group. I met more often with Ivan Timchev because he was more educated than the others and the two of us began to draft the Constitution and the Program for the Organization we were about to form. In the meantime they stole a typewriter from the Sandanski Forest Industry office. Ilia Kochev’s son, who worked there at the time, together with Ivan Timchev, who drove the getaway motorcycle, successfully accomplished the task of bringing a precious conspiratorial tool into our hands. My first task in using this machine was to write an

invitation letter calling on all Macedonians to join us in the fight to acquire our national rights as Macedonians in Bulgaria. The exact text of this letter can be found in the State Security Services Archives in Blagoevgrad. I was against Sokrat’s idea when he proposed that people who had served prison sentences should not be allowed to join the Organization. He felt that if those people fell into the hands of the State Security Services, the authorities would have irrefutable proof of their membership in our organization. He also assured me that the application forms were well-hidden in a safe place. Sokrat’s weakness was that he, in the worst of times during the dark years, spoke to many people about our Organization without interviewing them and without knowing how they stood. A lot of these people, to avoid getting into trouble themselves, reported this to the State Security Services. This, for example, is what happened to Kiril Boiadzhev, a medical technician. He did not report a letter he had received from our organization (addressed to him in French) to the State Security Services and as a result he was expelled from the ranks of the Communist Party and moved to a village. During the day we went to work together and in the evening we went to Sokrat’s place and worked on the Macedonian Question. One evening Sokrat said: “Stoian, I was talking to Kiro the bulldozer driver from the village Drangovo and he told me that he did not want to join the Organization.” “Sokrat,” I said, “I have told you so many times to be more cautious with people, it’s not like you are inviting them to a wedding? You should only talk about our issues to well-scrutinized people!” About a month later Sokrat said to me: “You know that guy Kiro, the bulldozer driver from the village Drangovo that I told you about? He now wants to join our Organization and work for Macedonia.” I then said: “Look Sokrat, the only reason he wants to join our Organization now is because he has already reported you to the State Security Services because of the previous conversation you had with him. And now they have asked him to spy on us!” Sokrat got upset and said: “That can’t be right! I know Kiro, he is a serious person. I know him from a long time ago!” I then said: “Sokrat, just remember my words. It will not be too long before you find out who is right and who is wrong.” And sure enough, later when the investigation had been completed I was allowed to read the file on our activities. The first report to the State Security Services was from the same Kiro from the village Drangovo. Afterwards when they put us together in the same cell in the Sofia prison, I said to Sokrat: “Read the file Sokrat and tell me who

filed the first report about our Organization?” Sokrat must have already read the file because he agreed with me without hesitation. He said: “Yes! It was him! You were right!” Eight of us were arrested and placed in the same cell and right there and then I told them that since all of us were placed in one place before our trial, we could be sure that at least one or two us were working for the State Security Services. And I was right about that too. Both Ivan Timchev and Todor Tsikandelov were free during the entire investigation and it would appear that they both worked for the State Security Services. That was in the beginning of 1974. Now I would like to take you back a little further, before that. In February 1972 I left my job at the “Strumitsa River Correction” section and started a job as a professional small vehicle driver for the Petrich Taxi service. I thought that this way I would have more time to meet and talk with different people about the Macedonian question. Sure enough I did run into many people but I had no way of knowing how they felt - Macedonian or Bulgarian. I came into contact with many young men who were ready to take the difficult road in the struggle for Macedonia, but I did not ask any of them to join, not one of them found themselves in the crosshairs of the State Security Services. From my own experience I knew that if more that two people shared a secret, it was no longer a secret. That is why when I spoke about conspiratorial work, I did it only in private one on one. I worked as a taxi driver for nearly 10 months before I quit. I did not quit because the job was difficult, on the contrary. While I was behind the wheel it felt like I was not working at all. It felt like I was on a pleasure trip. It was something else that made me leave. In my capacity as taxi driver, I was a relief driver giving six other drivers time off. But many of them when they had their weekly day off, instead of leaving their car with me, they would take it to have it serviced and I would be left without a car. This happened two or three times a week during which time I had no work. When Ivan Denev and Nikola Zlatnov took their days off, my work was guaranteed, but not when the others took their days off. So towards the end of December 1972 I filed a release request with the Director of DAP – Petrich and, according to Article 29, letter "a" - by mutual agreement, I was released from my duty as a taxi driver. In the meantime I applied to the “Communal Market” firm in Petrich as a contract painter and got the job. When I negotiated my pay with Ivan Karavanov, director of the company, he agreed to pay me 130 leva per month if I could prove to him that I had 10 years working experience. I accepted his condition. I started work immediately but soon afterwards I was temporarily sent to the town Razlog. Our painters there were working at the National Fiber

and Cardboard Facility, a great big structure. There I found many good Macedonians – colleagues. Included among them were: Ivan Mekushin, Georgi Pankov and Veselin Paliushev. In 1956 Veselin and I had spread leaflets in the Petrich vicinity. When I returned to Petrich at the end of the month I was paid only 120 leva. I immediately went to the Director’s office because I wanted to know why he had paid me only 120 leva when he had agreed to pay me 130? I knocked on the door and when I heard "Yes" I went inside and asked: “Can we talk?” “Yes!” he said. “Comrade Director, You promised me a salary of 130 leva if I proved to you that I had 10 years working experience. I provided you with a Workers’ log book which proved that. Why then did you authorize only 120 leva?” I asked. “But you failed to mention that you were in prison regarding the Macedonian question!” he retorted unceremoniously. “What does my prison sentence have to do with my work? I have already paid my dues to society. Do I not deserve to live? Do I now not need to work? I have a family to support you know!” I replied. “Yes you do have all those rights, but had I known you were in prison ahead of time, especially regarding the Macedonian question, I wouldn’t have hired you at all,” he said. Disappointed with the whole situation I said sharply: “Sorry to have bothered you. I will no longer bore you with my presence, Comrade Director. I will submit my resignation immediately!” I took a piece of paper and then wrote out my resignation. So after only a month of working at this job, I now found myself out of work again. This was the fate that I was delivered for meddling in the Macedonian question and for having gone to jail for it. A while later I went to Razlog and took on a job as a technical manager at a brand new, not yet operating, KCK “Transfer station” located at the railway station in the city Simitli. Since I was in charge of hiring workers, I hired some from Petrich with whom I traveled by bus every working day for the next nine months. Then one fateful day on November 5, 1973 I was detained by the State Security Service. I was arrested in KCK Razlog and taken by jeep to the Ministry of the Interior Regional Administration office in Razlog where I was again re-acquainted with my old nemesis from 1956, 1957: the hideous Shakin. Naturally, the first job of the State Security Services people was to search me and put me in a cell. It is not worth repeating the conversation I had with Shakin. I spent the night in a jail cell and early in the morning the next day I was taken to the State Security Services prison in Blagoevgrad.

The duty officer there searched me again in accordance with prison rules and took me to a cell where I was left until the afternoon. After lunch they took me out, handcuffed my hands behind my back and led me to a “Volga” (car) which then took me, along with two agents in civilian clothes, to the Sofia Ministry of the Interior, Fourth Regional Administration office. The duty officer searched me just like in Razlog and Blagoevgrad, the only difference here was that I was searched after I was undressed and completely naked. The duty officer then asked me to turn around and bend over so that he could check my buttocks to make sure I was not hiding a knife. The last part of this search I found humiliating and I felt like an animal. I do not know of any other place in any civilized country where political prisoners are treated with such indignity. A man, no matter how he is, he is still a man, as Maxim Gorky proudly proclaimed. If we consider that the Bulgarian people experienced five centuries of Ottoman slavery we should not be surprised by the application of the duty officer’s Asiatic methods. If the Bulgarians were unable to adopt anything civilized from their Asian masters they were certainly able to adopt the full measure of their barbarism and vulgarity! Or perhaps this sort of thing runs in the Bulgarian blood? An hour after being locked up in a prison cell I was taken for questioning, led by interrogator Lieutenant Georgi Petkov. Before I was taken out of the cell, one of my two escorts pushed an alarm button which activated all the flashing lights in all the corridors. This was the signal that a prisoner was being transported and that no one from the neighboring rooms should be in the halls. Outside of my interrogator, I too was not allowed to see anyone during my three months in this prison. I felt like I was under the watchful eye of the Gestapo. The atmosphere was very dark and the place looked sinister. Here, for the third time after sixteen years, I again met Nikola Mitev my former interrogator. He was now a colonel and promoted to chief of administration. His hair was going grey, I guess from old age and worries. He was smiling and polite to me despite his past unruly behaviour and uncivilized acts towards me. But that was a long time ago; the details of those acts have been forgotten, now he seemed more charitable. The moment he entered the room he stood there looking at me with amazement. I guess he wanted to cast his eyes on his old “client” one more time. “Welcome Stoian, how are you?” he greeted me kindly. “I am fine,” I replied “Thank you for your concern.” “Again Stoian, again with that damned Macedonian question?” he asked with a disappointing tone in his voice. “Well, what else can I do, Comrade Mitev. Someone

has to pay the price!” I replied. “That’s not right!” he said “But then what you do is your business!” After that he said: “Be honest with your Interrogator Comrade Petkov because he is looking for honesty. You know how these things work,” and then he left the room. As soon as we were left alone the lieutenant began with the obligatory questions such as my name, my place of birth, my address, where I work etc. He asked, I answered and he typed up the details of our conversation on his typewriter with his fast moving fingers. He was doing very well with both asking the questions and typing the answers. His simultaneous use of the machine and inquisitional abilities were exemplary. It was by no accident that he conducted the interrogation with such efficiency. He had probably had years of practice on the many people that he had interrogated. Some interrogators got their practice by doing field work, going down there to Macedonia, taking statements from witnesses. The people who knew about the Organization but were not seriously engaged in it were questioned at their places of residence and acquitted. They were simultaneously investigating fifteen people in Sofia, of whom seven were eventually released. Of the eight of us left, three were found guilty and sentenced to five years imprisonment, two were sentenced to four years, one to three years, one to two years and one to one year. Two others were interned for three years at the Deliorman facility. It is not worth a person’s time to write down the thousands of questions asked and the thousands of answers given, the sleepless nights thinking about the trial and about family. I was married with two small children when I was incarcerated and found my time in interrogation and prison very difficult; namely because I missed my family. When I saw my children at the trial in Blagoevgrad, for the first time in seven months, I felt very bad. My younger child did not recognize me. When my wife said to her: “Go to your father for a while,” she turned her head away because she was afraid of me. My hair was cut short and I was wearing prison clothes, the child could not recognize me. Before I was arrested all she wanted to do was play with me. She loved to comb my hair. Two years before that, when I was at home on Sunday’s, the two of them followed me around no matter where I went in the neighbourhood. They were so accustomed to me that when I was at home, they did not want to stay with their mother, not even for a minute. I always jokingly use to ask Lenche: “How much do you love me?” And she would say: “From the earth to the moon and from the sky to the sun!” The poor child always gave me the same answer, like she had some premonition that we would be apart for a long time.

I believe that is why at our meeting during the trial, after seven months apart, she was very disheartened. My older girl was a student in the first grade and recognized me as soon as she saw me but then she cried relentlessly. The younger one unfortunately did not recognize me and did not want to come to me. So, after seven months, I had to think hard about what my children were guilty of to be without a father for several years?! Were they somehow different from the other children who rejoiced at the presence of their fathers? I was a bachelor during my first sentence from 1957 to 1961. I felt very bad for my parents, sisters and brother but then I knew they were safe and sound at home and they looked after each other. But now it was different. My little children needed me and I was not there for them and that made me feel very guilty. I did not want to be separated from them but it was fate. Fate doesn’t always depend on us. Sometimes things are stronger than ourselves and whether we like it or not we need to follow what is preordained for us in life. Some say life is what we make it. Perhaps there is some truth to that. But when the flood takes you there is nothing you can do. You can certainly struggle to pull yourself out but then the flood will pull you right back in and take you deeper into uncertainty. Sixteen years after those unlucky moments, I again found myself in a stronger, more powerful and bigger whirlpool and in the same dilemma as I was in before, so I ask myself: “Do I have the strength to pull myself out of the powerful torrent or do I allow it to carry me to uncertainty?” I have already survived two torrents which I allowed to carry me and I never tried to pull out of their flow. Why should it be any different this time? I am currently sitting inside the “Iugotutun Bitola” resort in Ohrid looking at the shimmering waters of Lake Ohrid as I write down these bitter lines about my miserable unhappy life; the life of an unlucky, unhappy miserable man from Pirin Macedonia. A life, as it will be revealed in the next part of this novel, dedicated to Macedonia. Now, let us get back to the conclusion of the trial. There was nothing particularly spectacular to remember about the trial except that they were prosecuting us for basically spreading defamatory propaganda or as they called it “endangering the security and territorial integrity of the People's Republic of Bulgaria”. This was a standard accusation for anyone who felt Macedonian or had thoughts about being a Macedonian. According to the People's Republic of Bulgaria’s laws, a Macedonian is a traitor who has aims to secede territories from the Bulgarian state. There is plenty to say and much to write about that, but I think there is no need to. We all know the truth behind that story!

The most interesting thing about the trial was the pronouncement of the judgments against us by the District Court in Blagoevgrad which completely removed us from the political horizon of Pirin Macedonia. Our enemies rejoiced while our close friends cried. Then, after the completion of the trial and our meeting with our loved ones, we were put into monkey cages and taken to the prison in Sofia. In Sofia, while we were in the Seventh division, we were distributed to various different cells. Two weeks later, with the exception of Sokrat and I, all those with minor convictions were sent to work in the prison kitchen. Some time later I was transferred to the Starozagorski county jail. My sentence, under verdict number 5/4.VI.1974, in accordance with NOHD by Article 109, paragraph 1, Article 108 and Article 20 and 54 of NC, was 4 years deprivation of freedom with a strict regime. This meant that I would only be allowed one time in two months to receive a letter, a package and 8 leva or one visit with my loved ones. This was my second time at the Starozagorski Bastille which, besides being surrounded by an eight metre wall, was also surrounded by four rows of barbed wire, one of which sat on curved poles similar to those at the state border. I stayed here for about 2 months before I was put to work. After that they moved me to a woodworking plant where I painted furniture. I learned the job quickly and it only took me about three hours to fulfill the daily norm. The rest of the time I used to read books and study the Greek language. The last time I was in Starozagorski prison I had studied French and Turkish. Now I dedicated my time to studying Greek. I knew that knowing the language of the enemy would benefit me in my future activities. The Greeks were just like the Bulgarians, they refused to recognize the Macedonian language, nation and people. While serving in this prison I met two of my future friends and comrades in the struggle for our survival as Macedonians in the Pirin part of Macedonia. Their names were Kiril Panchev and Iordan Kostandinov Ivanov. Iordan was sentenced to three years in prison and later in 1980, for pursuing activities regarding the Macedonian Question, he was again imprisoned for another two years. The most difficult part about serving in Starozagorski prison was that it was very far from Petrich. My wife and children had to travel a long way to see me. The long travel was very hard on my wife. Life without me was difficult for her not only because she had to travel far to see me, but also because she had to work shift work as a seamstress in a factory. She not only had to take care of herself and the children but also had to spend money to send me packages and come to visit me. I did not save any of my correspondence from the previous sentence