The Great Decline – Chapter 12

The Great Decline – Chapter 12

During our first attack, we were told that the most important thing for us to do was to make sure our opponent bled a lot. To make sure he did not advance much and most importantly, he must not be allowed to take anything that had importance or significance; not a stone, not a bush, not a rock, not a tree, behind which he could hide. Let him approach, let him come close within reach of machine gun fire and then let him have it starting and ending with uninterrupted machinegun fire. The enemy infantry should not pose much danger to us. It would be exposed and it would suffer many casualties. The greatest danger to us were the flying aircraft, for which we had no safeguard... And, of course, their artillery. So, our solution to these problems was to dig deep trenches, cover them with as many rows of logs and stones as possible, of which we had unlimited quantities.

We were told to dig tunnels and connect all the trenches and bunkers together underground. We were told to also connect the reserve trenches with tunnels so that we could easily slip from one into the other. We were told to mine every approach, every path and every patch of land which simply was not in our hands. Each mine was separately set and each minefield served us well. We laid mines in the trees. Just one pull on a wire and our opponent would be blown to pieces. This way even the trees became a danger for our opponent. We let our enemies know that it would take them a long time before they saw these hills, which were about to become an even greater nightmare for them. We were about to test our enemy here on these hills, rocks and peaks. The day of the big showdown was near! Were we ready to defend Gramos? Was Gramos to become the grave of our enemy? Was Gramos an unapproachable fortress?

On June 16, 1948, at 5:30 am, the government army began their bombardment of the entire Pindus mountain range with hundreds of artillery batteries. Crossing over the hills, a line of six aircraft flew over the first line of defense, tilted their wings to the left, made a semicircle pass and, while flying low, began to fire rockets and machine gun fire at our backs. They made space for the bombers to approach. Their aim was to destroy the trenches and bunkers. Following right behind them were more waves of aircraft, approaching wave after wave all day long with only a three hour break.

Leftera sat in a bunker with her back to the wall, crouching and trying to make herself as small as possible. She was waiting for her fate to be determined and was wondering when the crunch was going to come and when it did, was it going hurt a lot? The thick pine beams groaned and cracked under the heavy, exploding bombs dropped by the aircraft. Soil and rocks fell with every blow, filling the bunkers with dust. Crushed stones were falling inside the bunker and hitting Leftera on the back. The bunker became increasingly filled with burning rock and soil and the air smelled of gunpowder and phosphorus. Warm and strong air waves gushed by and pieces of bomb shrapnel fell, striking the bunker. Leftera felt a hot sensation on her right shoulder and burning on her fingers. There was blood on her palm...

“Am I wounded?” she murmured as fear began to overcome her. She turned her head. Her helper, kneeling and leaning his head on the wall, looked like he was praying. Leftera extended her good arm, grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him. She yelled but no sound came out, only silence. She yelled again but all she heard were the explosions outside. It felt like her throat was dry. She licked her teeth and gums and then her lips in an attempt to moisten them. She felt weak at her knees and cold sweat swept all over her body. Suddenly everything went dark… She felt a great blow on her head. After she regained consciousness she jumped to her feet. The thunder and earth-shaking taking place outside had stopped but long bursts of machine gun fire could still be heard. Then, suddenly she heard the angry calls of the squad commander yelling: “Machine gunner! Fire!!! Fire!!! Fire!!!”

Leftera grabbed her machine gun with her good arm, aimed it in the direction of the enemy and let out a long burst. She reloaded and began to fire short bursts. From her gun hole she could see government soldiers further down fleeing downhill. The shooting had subsided. The opponent’s first attack was repelled. Leftera shook the soil and dust off her head and shoulders and just then she felt a strong pain. The field medic bandaged her wound, and the

commander assessed that she had received only a light wound and she did not need to go to the hospital.

The women with mules and horses arrived at night, brought ammunition and food and took the wounded back with them. The dead were all collected and buried in a single mass grave, quietly and in a hurry, without a priest or church bells. Green branches were then laid over the grave.

General Zafiropoulos, on the Greek government side, was observing part of the front with his binoculars. He was loudly swearing and cursing. He was surprised by the unexpected resistance. It was the same for the next few days; his attempts did not produce the expected results. Kopanche, only about two hundred metres away from him, fell into enemy hands even after putting up a fierce resistance. The sector Amuda - Nikoler - Petrepeleni - Buf was a total failure. Not even a step forward. The number of casualties was huge. He sent a ciphered telegram to inform higher command. A reply came back ordering him to withdraw from that part of the front and return to his initial position.

The general calmly received and executed the order. He looked surprised as he watched his long column of soldiers, most of them wounded, withdrawing from the front line and felt fear as he watched the trucks leaving, loaded to capacity with the bodies of those killed in battle. He was indeed amazed by the tenacity of his opponent and with his opponent’s bunkers which withstood his fiercest bombardments. His soldiers kept moving, single file, confused, exhausted and afraid. Those in top command repeatedly assured him that he only needed two or three days or up to five days maximum, to break and defeat his opponent. They were convinced that their bombs dropped from the air, their shells propelled by their artillery and their tank support would do the job to annihilate the enemy. All his soldiers had to do was just comb the terrain and collect the Slavo-communists. This is what those at the top were telling him.

Six days earlier the well-fed, well-dressed, full of cheer and sure of themselves Greek government soldiers were ready to take the offensive and attack their enemy face to face. They laughed at their

enemy, made fun of him, told jokes about him and called him a bandit; Greek gangs and Slavo-Macedonian communists. Now, after facing him in close proximity in the hills and in the mountains, especially after the fierce bombardments he had to endure, they were forming a different opinion of him. Now they were looking up at the mountains and praying to God, being thankful that it was not them up there in the mountains being pounded to dust; and that they never had to go up there and fight again. They were hoping, and with some certainty expecting, that the planes and the artillery would do their job for them and annihilate their enemy and all they had to do was go up there and plant their flag.

Given the firepower they had, they often wondered why they had to do all those marches, drills, running, jumping and crawling? We have planes and cannons, they said, let them do their work. They also complained of how hot the weather was. Now, cut to pieces, broken, scared and surprised, they returned to their starting position. They sat lying in the shadows of their tents and looked up at Amuda, Nikoler, Petre Peleni, Buf, Aleksova Cheshma, Oreskata, Ostri Vrv, Aliavitsa, Sveti Ilia and Gorusha and wondered what was going to happen. The planes and artillery were still active, burning the entire terrain and evoking shivers in them. They kept asking themselves: “Will we be going up there again?” and whispering “Theos filaksi! (May God protect us!)...”

The next day, after the airplanes and the artillery had bombed the front to dust, like it was an exercise, the infantry battalions went on the attack. Standing in front of the command post, their General observed their activities with his binoculars. The resistance yielded a bit at the right-wing and the government troops, walking over their fallen, pushed ahead. The first wave of assault reached the foot of the hill. There was a long wall of green, cut branches and barbed wire underneath them. They attempted to cross it by jumping over the wire but without success. They backed up for a moment and threw hand grenades at it.

“Forward!!!” their commander yelled. They were ordered to move forward… They entered a minefield... The first line triggered the mines… There were many explosions. The wounded began to scream and yell for help. The rest hit the ground and, with their

portable shovels, began to dig trenches, deep enough to hide their heads. Those on the opposing side kept silent well-hidden in their trenches. They kept their machine gun barrels cool and ready. They were waiting for orders.

The squad commander took the envelope from the courier, opened it and read: “It is forbidden to act without being given an order. Your orders are to defend your positions to the last man, to the last bullet and to the last gasp of air. If the enemy attacks in the middle, then allow him to come as close as possible, then attack him from both the left and right wings. Anyone who dares step back, retreats even one step, no, one centimetre, will be court marshaled and shot in front of a firing squad. Do not wait for help to arrive. There is not a single person to spare. The fate of Krusha and Gorusha is now in your hands!” At the bottom of the page there was a scribble resembling a signature.

The squad hidden in the trenches and bunkers was waiting for orders. The commander looked through the gun hole and counted: “Five hundred... four hundred...” as sweat built up on his forehead and began to run down his face. There was silence… no one was allowed to fire before the order was given...

The opponent stood still and was burying himself about four hundred metres ahead. It was the middle of the day. It was hot and quiet. Thunder was heard in the plains of Kostur.

“To the bunkers and trenches!” ordered the squad commander.

After fifteen minutes of artillery fire there was a charge by the government soldiers and gunfire came from above.

Mita kept switching back and forth from firing single shots to bursts of gun fire with her machine gun. This was what they had taught her to do during training last year. She closed her eyes, clenched her teeth and pressed her lips tight before pulling the trigger. The proximity of the enemy was determined by the density of her gun bursts. The closer the enemy, the more frequent the gun bursts. At a distance of about fifty metres she could see helmets moving and could hear a lot of swearing and cursing. Her machine gun went

silent for a moment. She had to reload. She began firing again. Another machine gun began to fire from the left wing. It was firing long bursts. More guns joined in and forced the charge to stop. The charging government soldiers dropped to the ground and then slowly retreated with the support of heavy machine guns and light mortars.

“General! It was a complete failure... What a humiliation!” reported the brigade commander on the government side. “We have been butchered by a bunch of ignorant peasants, herdsmen and shepherds. Screw the academies and...” the commander stopped cold and fear began to grip him as he watched a long column of wounded passing by him, wrapped in bandages dripping with blood, being carried on stretchers exhausted and eyes filled with hatred. “Scary…” he murmured quietly to himself.

The messages coming from government Division Command were threatening at best. The top commander was calling for court martial and executions of personnel if the battalions did not renew and resume their attack. The brigadier general, holding the earpiece in his hand could only imagine the anger of the top commander on the other side of the wire, as he listened to him yell loudly, in a distorted voice, threatening him with all kinds of painful things. He also imagined him, far away from this hell, staring at a large military topographic map, moving red and blue flags like chess pieces back and forth over a line. He could not see the people, the dead, wounded and bleeding people. He could not hear their screams of pain and horror… All he saw were flags, lines and arrows…

On the tenth day since the beginning of the “great battle” for Gramos, with the approval of General Van Fleet, head of the U.S. military mission in Greece, the air force renewed its attacks, this time with napalm bombs, thus unleashing a new, never before seen horror against the Partisans... And still the front could not be broken… It did not even move...

All these fierce and bloody attacks carried out by the government battalions, supported by aircraft and artillery, rained havoc on the Partisan squads. From having 98 fighters before the battles began, this commander’s squad was now reduced to 15. After sending his wounded to the hospitals the squad commander sat on the floor of

his bunker and nervously turned the handle on his Polish telephone. There was only static. He turned the handle again and again until finally he got a connection. He reported his situation to headquarters and asked for reinforcements.

“You what?” shouted a voice on the other side. “Have you gone mad? Where am I supposed to find them? From whom should I take them?” He then heard a lot of swearing and cursing before he was ordered to: “Fight alone if you have to, just don’t let the hill slip away. Do you understand?!” Headquarters then abruptly hung up.

As the squad commander looked at the dead earpiece he was reminded of a few days ago when he was yelling: “Is there anyone still alive?!”

He slammed the telephone on the ground, called the courier and asked him to invite everyone to a meeting. They all gathered around him in the dark… all 15 of them.

“Form a line!” he ordered. After they formed a line, in a soft voice he said: “We are the remnants of our entire squad.” He then read the order: “The hill must be defended to the last person. That is all. Now take your positions!”

Gorusha and Krusha remained alive for as long as there were fighters to charge and fight over them. After that they became obscure places, hiding and silent… waiting...

A tree, hit by shrapnel on its lower trunk, shook first then tilted, but only for a moment, as if considering whether to stand back up or fall down, and then slowly tilted more and more until it fell to the ground. The fall caused a roar in the forest; first a crack then a howl and eventually a crashing bang. Sometimes trees are cropped and rather than tilting and falling, they just drop to the ground standing up. If a tree is hit above the middle, its top is damaged and dies but its bottom still lives on… What about a person?