Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Beaten up like many times before Kolio was on his way home, walking along the dusty dirt road leading to his house. From time to time a military truck carrying soldiers to Grleni passed him by leaving a trail of dust behind. Long bursts of machine gun fire were heard coming from Grleni and cannon fire was coming from Chetirok. The cannons were firing one by one and the shells were exploding on top of the hill in Sveti Ilia. A cloud of greyish dust was seen followed by an explosion sounding like thunder in the distance.

Concerned about the gunfire and explosions all around him, Kolio picked up the pace and moved faster along the dusty road. His existence, which scorched his entire life, dragged on. He took careful steps and each step took him back in time, to earlier times when he felt bitterness and humiliation. These were painful times but he did not want to forget them because if he did they would cease to exist. He felt silent shivers in his heart when he thought of the dark times he had experienced as he peeled off layer after layer from the memories of his tangled destiny. He felt torrents of despair flow out of him… They took away everything from him except his sense of dignity, something that was deeply rooted in his being. His restless thirst to survive all storms, to not allow the fire in his fireplace to be extinguished and to maintain his fields plowed and grains planted, encouraged him to get moving.

Days gone by, one by one, unfolded before his eyes and in them he watched the beatings and abuses in the camps, he watched the four cut off heads of the unknown plowman from Popole hanging in front of a café in Kostur. They said they were “bandits” and made the people hate them and spit on them. He watched the gendarmes beat and murder people. He watched the punitive expeditions of the royal army and the police beat and kill people for practically nothing. All of them, everywhere from Crete to Macedonia, day and night, were sowing fear into the hearts of the people. Many people went into shock and yet no one, not the King and not the government, did anything to stop it. So many people all across Greece began to lose their lives, their sense of purpose and their will to live.

“Stop!” he heard someone yell out loud. Kolio stopped. Moments later a couple of men arrived and pointed their gun barrels at him. Kolio instantly recognized one of them. His name was Ianis, son of Avram, a newcomer from Asia Minor.

“I am Kolio. Returning from Kostur,” said Kolio.

“Uncle Kolio,” said Ianis, “what are you doing out here at this time, especially you? Don’t you know what happened? Where are you going? You are lucky you appeared in front of my gun. You know, nowadays they hunt down those like you.”

“Why are you talking to that Slavo-phone, Ianis?!” the second armed man yelled loudly.

“Stay out of this and shut your mouth!” Ianis yelled ominously.

Kolio was happy to have run into Ianis whom he had known since he was a child. He also knew his father Avram who lived in Memet’s house. Memet was a Torbash (a Macedonian Christian who had converted to Islam). His family had lived in that house for many generations before the Memet family was expelled, together with the Turks, to Asia Minor by the Greek government.

Moments later Ianis turned to the other armed man and said: “You go to the village and I will take this old man to the police station.”

After they were out of sight of the other man, Ianis asked Kolio: “Your son, Uncle Kolio, the one my age, has he left for the mountains?”

“Everyone takes to the road they think will take them where they want to go. And I see that you have picked up a rifle...” replied Kolio.

“I sure did!” replied Ianis interrupting Kolio, “I sure did!” “They shoved it into my hands and here it is. There were also those in our village who said no; some did not last the night, others are breaking stones now. Father was very angry and yelled at me, but what could I do? They incited us and now we will point guns at each other,

shoot each other and kill each other… Uncle Kolio. Let’s go home. Father has been waiting a long time for you and has been asking about you. He heard about your son. He has not said anything bad, he only said: “If they endure it will be easier for them in time.”

That night, sometime after midnight, Avram took Kolio to the slope of Stenite. When he returned to Sveta Helena, two police officers were waiting for him at his home. Someone had reported to the police that Avram had secretly escorted some unknown person to the Stenite. Nothing more needed to be said. The next morning they took him to Kostur.

“Who would have thought,” said the chief angrily,” “that a Madzhir would have helped him? When I sent him home I was sure that somewhere along the way would have killed him and tossed his body into the ditch.” The chief then spat and said: “What insolence! I have long maintained that no good was going to come out of these Asians. They are nothing but snakes!”

“That’s what I thought too!” said Peter Rogers with a comforting smile on his face. “But, dear Sir, let us get back to our conversation. What you said is quite interesting; very interesting in fact!”

“Sirs, I will read you something from today’s ‘Eleftheria’. Listen to this,” said the chief: “World War III is destined to begin at the northern borders of Greece. It will be started by the Slavo-Macedonians. World War III will start at the Greek border if Greece does not soon get rid of them. They all must go! Well,” he continued while knocking on the paper with his finger, “there it is in the editorial. These people don’t just sit there and write what they want. As far as I am concerned they are smart people because they can see into the distance and are immediately able to provide us with clear solutions.”

Parousis turned to him and quietly said: “As far as I am concerned all they do is sow hatred and fear... But I suppose that’s the way it is. However, there is the whole country, not just the Slavo-Macedonians. I would like to ask you Chief and you, dear Peter, as our ally: Why in July of this year, just over one night, all across this country we arrested ten thousand people and sent them to the dry

islands?” Parousis paused for a moment, looked at the two and said: “Gentlemen, there has never been a darker night than this in this country. Everyone is talking about the people left crippled, mad and killed... Don’t you think, gentlemen, that this might be about something else and not just about the Slavo-Macedonians?” Parousis then looked at Rogers and said: “Gentlemen, Greece is going downhill…”

The chief turned to Parousis and said: “Sir, I have had my eyes on you for a long time. You speak of our state, fatherland and race like they are your enemy. Do you not realize that I have the power to take you down after making such statements? I am sure a place can be found even for you in those dry islands you speak off, say in Giura, Ai Strati, Trikeri, Makronisos... You see, we have quite a lot of them, right?”

The English officer stood up, walked around the office and, after lighting a cigarette, broke the silence by saying: “Gentlemen, you need to be on the same page in these difficult times your country is facing. Mutual accusations will lead to nothing. I believe, in those accusations of yours lies a deep concern for the fate of your country. I have to admit that our conversation took a different form of expression and veered off from its previous course. But that’s too bad. You both made very interesting arguments and I am glad to have listened to them. I believe you will find a way out of this unpleasant situation. Chief, what is going to happen to the one they brought in today? The one that helped the old man escape?”

“You want to see him?” asked the chief.

“I am more interested in his motives,” replied Rogers.

The chief pressed the button under his desk. A young sergeant appeared at the door. He asked the sergeant to bring Avram to the office. He then turned to Parousis and said: “You, Sir, did you write a letter to the Minister in which you put forward many lies. Yes, only lies… Did you get an answer?”

Parousis lit a cigarette and through the exhaling smoke said: “Unfortunately, not yet!”

“And you won’t get one,” answered the chief and pulled an envelope out of his drawer. “Is this it?” he then asked. “As you can see, I have my fingers everywhere. I also sent a letter with my opinions of you to the Minister of State Security. But it looks like I will not have to wait for his opinion,” concluded the chief.

The door opened and Avram entered the office. He had been beaten. His face was black and blue and one of his eyes was swollen. Without a sense of care he looked at the chief and, without waiting to be asked, he sat down on a chair beside the Englishman.

“If the stranger can sit here, so can I,” Avram thought to himself and adjusted his seat. He then pulled a pouch of tobacco and paper out of his pocket. The moment that he began to roll a cigarette the chief loudly said: “You are in the police station, you’re not at home, the least you can do is ask for permission!” and then looked at Rogers. The Englishman, staring at a picture of King George, pretended he did not hear. The chief then looked at Avram and said: “I read your confession and I must say that generally I am not pleased.” He paused for a moment and then asked: “Is this how you repay your fatherland for all it has done for all of you who came here from Asia Minor?”

Avram looked at the chief with a stern look and said: “We did not come here… we were brought here. We did not know where they were taking us, Sir. And how did Kolio wrong me to have him killed? Or did you want his head too to hang in front of some café in Kostur? Why not! Add another head to the heads of the slaughtered plowmen, shepherds, or herdsmen and put it on display as the head of a bandit?”

Avram paused for a moment and continued: “We crossed over, mountains, rivers and wastelands, we left many of our relatives dead on the road in unknown lands while getting here and then when we got here they were the first to extend their hand to us. Their grip was warm and strong. Their bread was delicious. Their place of rest was soft. It was better to receive a rag from their hands than something new bestowed with contempt and abuse from the Greek state. We came here to their country homeless and they took care of us... But

you, you turned our homelessness into discord and created divisions among them and us. You broke our friendship and forced us to loathe them…”

Avram paused, took a deep breath and continued: “They felt sorry for us and you, I mean the Greek authorities, planted seeds of fear and hatred in us… which led to this… Which led to the road we have taken today… to driving them out of their homes… and eventually to their demise… that’s what you made us do… Chief…” concluded Avram and looked away.

“Man distancing himself from man. You made us do that…” Avram resumed talking. “Hate them in order to make you happy…. We came to their country as newcomers and we found peace, bread and water here. We learned their language because it was easier and sweeter for us. And now you ask me to betray them?”

Avram paused again and after a moment of silence said: “That is it from me! I have nothing more to say. Take my head off and hang it in front of some café or put it on a pole and carry it around like a flag…”

Fourteen days later, Avram and Parousis and thirty other men were taken and loaded onto a truck which took them to Solun. In Solun they were loaded onto a ship which sailed the same evening. The next day at noon, they found themselves walking on the hot rocks of Aegina.