Noose – Chapter 14

Noose – Chapter 14

Visiting the camp called “Strength of suffering” where parents of forcibly mobilized children were held.

1.

It was a cold January winter in 1949. It rained and snowed most of the time and then the weather turned very cold and windy. The wind was so strong it was blowing tents and temporary shelters down. It was a terrible time; we experienced casualties, deprivation and starvation. All the villages were empty. Everyone was feeling anxious wondering where the people had gone? What could have possibly happened to an entire nation of people? To make matters worse, more and more bad news kept coming from Gramos and Vicho. Our outlook began to look bleak with each passing day. We were exhausted and losing confidence. Confusion and chaos among the parents continued well after the evacuation of their children. Many of the young Macedonian children, following their evacuation in March 1948, had disappeared. The children were initially taken to shelters in Romania, Czechoslovakia, Hungary and Poland but soon afterwards the CPG (Communist Party of Greece) ordered to have a select number returned and sent to the front lines in Gramos and Vicho where many were killed unbeknownst to their parents. Many of the parents, whose children were forcibly mobilized, were arrested and psychologically tormented, but a group rebelled and formed the organization “Strength of suffering”. Their objective was to save their children who were marshaled by force by the CPG, DAG (Democratic Army of Greece), NOF (National Liberation Front) and AFZH (Women’s Anti-Fascist Front) and sent to the fatal battlegrounds. When we approached the camp grounds we had a strange impression, perhaps because it was outside of the forested area. The whole camp was surrounded by razor-sharp barbed wire and had a stench of rot and harsh smoke. Standing on the grass under a tree on the other side of the fence was an old white-haired woman whose eyes and nose were red from crying. She was crossing herself under the tree on which a NOOSE hung. It seemed as if she had witnessed something horrible and now it was burned in her heart and mind forever. The poor old lady, I remember her like it was yesterday. Small, frail-looking, completely lost in her black clothes under her black head kerchief, which she would wear for the rest of her life. She was outside of the “house of the dead”. That’s what they called the underground barracks where the old people used to stay, looking like living cadavers. I felt sorry for the old woman. I wanted to cry but I couldn’t. I thought that if I cried it would be easier on me. “No one here trusts her tears,” said the watchman who sluggishly paced around the fence. We stood in front of the closed door made of wooden stakes interwoven with wire. They called this door the “door of the dead” because of all those who went in, no one came out alive. Sitting on a bunch of stones, frozen stiff was Sotir Gaidov. He was unshaven and unwashed and on his upper body he wore a woolen coat and a stained vest. On his lower body he wore dark pants that glistened with oil and grease. These were the clothes he had worn when he was a groom. On his feet he wore an old pair of military boots completely worn out. Sitting there he was curled up looking rigid and clumsy. A bad odor, like half-dried sheep skin, was emanating from him. He hated everything for no reason at all. A sea of sorrow was swimming in his blood. His heart and mind were silent. He awoke only to the echo of gunfire and waited to hear the message about who had just been killed. As I stood there watching him I asked myself: “Is this really Sotir Gaidov, the Priest’s educated son?” “Good day, Uncle Sotir! You are here too?” I asked him. My voice startled him. He lifted his head and gave me a cold stare. We both stood there looking at each other in silence. Finally he spoke: “We are all here, all of us who rebelled and would not agree to give up our children. We refused to give up our children. No one was going to take our children away; not Frederica, not the communist commanders and not our own AFZH people, who, as intruders entered our houses and forcibly took all the children away.

You, Traiko,” he said to my friend Traiko Bogdanov, “as a communist, what do you say to all this… to what the Communists are doing? Do you know that your sister-in-law Lambrovitsa is being sued today, what are you going to tell your brother Lambro tomorrow?...” There was silence! Traiko froze and became mute. Sotir continued: “Queen Frederica’s aim was to take the children from their parents and force the parents to desert the Communists. Now here we are all branded as traitors by the Communists and await our death. At the same time no one knows where our children are and where in Europe they have taken them. But they still insist that they are saving them. This is like in the old saying: ‘I lit your house on fire so that I can save it’.” “Lord God!” said Traiko, holding his automatic rifle in the ready position and continued: “So, you say that Queen Frederica’s aim was to take our children so that we would defect from DAG and renounce our communist ideals? And the Communist aim was to take our children so that they could keep the fathers and mothers hostage? You say that they seized our children to solve DAG’s reserve problems and supply it with new fighters?” Traiko paused for a moment, thought and said: “Well my sister-in-law was right. Both sides have begun a campaign of genocide against us Macedonians.” Sotir stood up, glanced around and began to speak: “History is not only about the past. Our rational and patriotic conscience should not have allowed us to just be spectators, to just wonder, to bury our heads in the sand and keep quiet when we saw trouble and danger. It should have forced us to speak out about this evil, to challenge the Communists. Do you know what the Communists are aiming to do to us? Behind their campaign to save our sons and daughters they have hidden treacherous intentions. They intend to supply DAG with more Macedonian fighters and push the entire Macedonian population into war. Not too long ago the communists, through our Organizations NOF and AFZH, mobilized a population that was never mobilized before. After collecting all the children they rationalized that ‘now that the mothers are free from having to care for their children, they too can join the ranks of DAG and be dispatched to the front lines to fight’. And true to their word, after they collected the children they forcibly mass mobilized all the Macedonian women and sent them to either fight at the fronts or serve behind them.” Sotir paused, looked at Traiko and said: “When it comes to the Macedonians, the Greeks have one essential purpose; to destroy them!” “In other words, Greek measures against the Macedonians are indistinguishable regardless of where they come from, be it the bourgeoisie or the Communists?” asked Traiko. “Yes!” said Sotir. “For years the communists have been trying to convince us that they would reject what Athens was doing, but in the long run they showed themselves to be exactly the same as all other Greeks, harbouring the same aims against us Macedonians. Well, you can now see for yourself what they are doing. Our extermination has now come to light!” Strange thoughts began to creep into Traiko’s mind. Anger began to build in his chest. There was no moment that passed when he did not think “we are doomed”, “we are done for”, “we are dead”... For a moment everything around him became blurred, wrapped in fog. He was devastated by the thought that he, without knowing, was actually supporting a cause that would hurt him and his people. He was not haunted by the death of his own dreams but by the thought that there may be a greater punishment than death.

2.

Inside the camp it looked like preparations were being made to celebrate some great holiday. The prisoners were pushed to work harder as the guards barked at them: “Fast! Faster! Keep working! Keep moving!” They were cleaning the paths to the camp and tightening the tents. They cut wood for the huge fire pit and started boiling the cauldron with the beans. Everything was carefully organized. Early in the morning the next day a judge and two people from the Macedonian political organizations, Filip Jazhin from NOF and Fana Tapantsieva from AFZH, arrived at the camp escorted by a dozen armed DAG fighters. As mid day drew close the people residing in the camp began to gather at the nearby freshly cut meadow. The order given, immediately sparked a violent reaction from the crowd. Everyone started talking at once. They shouted out loud and wanted to run to protect Lina Bogdanova. Then there was silence but only for a few seconds. After that the entire crowd roared with a single voice. “Is this possible? To kill innocent women? Then kill us all!” were hundreds of voices thundering all through the crowd, echoing through the camp known as the “Dlabika Jama” (Hollow Pit). Sitting there silent and looking grim was the fifty year old Todor Pelifanov. Despite his age, he once spoke with a loud voice and with great hand gestures. Leaning on his dogwood walking stick he said: “It is difficult for us to live here without our children. Our trauma is too great. I am going to other people’s graves to cry.” He then asked: “Am I also an enemy of my people because I have two sons working in America and lost one son fighting for DAG on the Gramos front?” Todor tried to move but unexpectedly fell to the ground. He said to himself: “Our life looks like suicide.” Everyone stared at Todor but he gave them the impression that he was bored and going to sleep when he closed his damaged white eyes. After this touching fraternal bonding they all started talking with each other. At that same moment the spark of a vigilant communist flashed in military judge Karanikas’s eyes. His voice became harsh and he yelled out: “I am a national military judge and I conduct the court with facts. Lina Bogdanova, born in 1904 (maiden name Lina Gaidova, daughter of Pop Gligor Gaidov - liquidated in 1945, at age 65 as an enemy of our ideology) comes from a very religious family which stood against our communist ideology. Since the very beginning of our revolution Lina has been against our strategic objectives and therefore she is being condemned as the enemy of the liberal-minded people. She has shown to be a great enemy of our holy struggle and works for the interest of Anglo-American imperialism, probably because her husband Lambro Bogdanov, born in 1900, has been in America since 1936. We are not making claims but it is certain that he works for the Americans and his sons Pavle and Vasil are senior officers in Tito’s army, and now they too have become bitter enemies of our struggle.” The judge paused, looked around and continued: “We the Partisans of General Markos have been led by the Communist Party to fight for a better tomorrow. I think that the Macedonians should be the first in line and do their best. By doing so they would achieve freedom and self-determination. It was by no accident that the defendant Lina scalded the feet of her two children, son Mito Bogdanov, born in 1935, and daughter Elena Bogdanova, born in 1933. She did this to stop them from joining the ranks of DAG, from fighting for the ideals of the CPG, whose aims are to liberate Greece from Anglo-American imperialism. She did this when the entire nation was throwing itself into the fight for our sacred liberty, led by our wise leader Zahariadis.” Lina Bogdanova, the defendant in this case, stood there blinking her eyes as the judge asked her a question: “Tell us the truth; did you do this by yourself or did someone else teach you what to do? Or perhaps you hate your own children?” Hurt by the judge’s words Lina said: “Why are you asking me such stupid questions?

They are my own children to whom I gave birth, so why would I want to give them to the communists or to the AFZH woman so that they could send them to the battlefields to die?” Lina’s voice was so weak and so sad that it was barely audible. One had only to look at her face to realize how much she was suffering. “So, I gather you alone decided to perform this heinous act and thus consciously took the side of our enemies in this holy war of ours,” said the judge. Lina’s eyes welled with tears as she listened to the judge’s words. Of all the people watching the trial, only Sotir Gaidov, Lina’s brother, turned his head away so as not to WATCH HIS SISTER CRY. In a sad voice he said to me: “What kind of destiny is this? We have always known about the cruelty of the various nationalist Greek governments but these communists are turning out to be even more brutal!” At that very moment Traiko Bogdanov, Lambro Bogdanov’s younger brother, a declared communist, turned to me and said: “Sotir is right! We Macedonians have been tricked! They have divided us with their lies and have turned us against one other; brother against brother. It would be a good idea to look back and review whether we should continue to sacrifice ourselves for the interests of these strangers! We have become deaf, dumb and blind, thank God for the good earth that supports us.” At that moment other voices were heard yelling and all attention and eyes were directed at Lina Bogdanova standing there looking dignified while the judge was attempting to coax her into saying that she had been assisted by associates of hostile organizations. But Lina, to the end, stuck to her story insisting that she had acted alone: “They are my children...” she said, “and they do not belong to any Party… they are mine and Lambro Bogdanov’s children. And I want everyone to know that I want to die true to myself as Lambrovitsa Bogdanova.” The judge was totally confused. He could not believe that the woman would harm her own children so as to prevent them from joining DAG. “I will ask you for the last time,” he said. “Where are your children now?” “My son Mito is with his father in America,” she said. “One night I alone took him over the mountains to the city Lerin and when I returned home I was arrested.” Lina began to cry and said: “My daughter Elena ended her own life... She was unable to bear the taunts and criticism from the AFZH women for not volunteering to fight in what you call your holy freedom. I would not let her and for that she blamed me the most...” Lina stood there magnificently in silence, like a commendable warrior, then slowly walked under the NOOSE hanging under the oak tree. It was a great surprise to everyone, so great that the entire crowd went dead silent… Lina then said to herself: “Oh my God they will hang me!” Judge Karanikas said to himself: “Did you think you would be forgiven?” He then yelled out: “Death to fascism and to our enemies!” Mala Prespa, fall, 1949.

3.

I had the opportunity to observe thousands of cases in developments involving Macedonians. The more I observed NOF and AFZH involvement with the Macedonians the more I grew disgusted with that genocidal war. On August 12th, 1949 the entire front line from Vicho to Bela Voda was burning and our troops were leaving the front. At that time I asked for permission to go and visit camp “Hollow Pit” for one last time and see what had happened to the people. When I got there the camp was deserted and only the NOOSE hung swinging back and forth, blown by the wind. The place was littered with rags scattered all around the meadow... The sun began to set behind Mount Vrba and, on the far horizon, where heaven met earth, the land above the Prespa valley began to turn dark changing the character of the lake and the landscape all around it. The shadows of the big trees in the valley were vast, seeming like they were the shadows of the people that had been hung there. The spacious Prespa valley was quickly becoming dark, the entire sky over all this landscape was clear and bright blue, but I was feeling repulsed; I found myself feeling somewhat banished and cursed. The thought that I had left my relatives there in that camp, powerless, made me sick. Dragging himself behind me and roaming with a machine gun hanging on his shoulder, but a bit astounded, was Traiko Bogdanov, who, for a long time stood there and watched the NOOSE on which his sister-in-law Lina was hung...

* * *

Now, years later, I was reminded of Sotir Gaidov’s question: “When a nation is influenced by aggressive ideological propaganda and gains political power how many people will it kill?”