PART V - Part 01

PART V

1. Lazaros Papadoglu sat on the chair behind the editorial proofreader. He looked peaceful. He leaned over the table, took out a pen and an ink cartridge and, after thinking for a moment, began to write:

“The streets of Solun are full of human corpses these days, about which no city resident knows how they got in front of their door. The city government has hired funeral services whose workers walk the streets every morning, collect the corpses and bury them in a large pit in the cemetery. People on the side of the political left are spreading words through the city that this terror is perpetrated by several gangs which, to some extent, are protected by the new government. Some citizens are afraid to walk the streets. The people from the funeral services are complaining that they can’t handle the capacity. The streets are beginning to reek of carrion. The carts on which the funeral services load the corpses are too few and they are unable to collect all the dead. Lately our city has begun to lose its inhabitants even during the day. The many people who come out to shop for food, which is necessary for their survival, stumble over the many corpses. Hunger has overtaken the city. The residents continuously think of their stomachs. And it is no wonder that they take to the streets seeking bread. Unfortunately no one is giving them bread, and whatever there it to purchase is sold for exorbitant sums of money (gold is worth as much as mud), so they have turned their anger towards the government in Athens, accusing it of being the culprit for this crisis. The blame also falls on the United States and England, behind whom the Greek government hides. The first thing the people want is for the Greek government to drive out the foreign troops from this country and introduce democracy.

King George II’s death did not touch the citizens of our city or those across our country. The people once again have gathered in the streets and have spat on the government and on its fascist policies. The police and gendarmes have exhausted a lot of iron. Troops have flooded the cobblestone roads of our city. Every city resident now knows that blood must be shed in order to change the government and force the Americans and British out. The people are openly and

bravely entering into a conflict with the police and gendarmes, believing that only with bloodshed will they achieve their desired freedom and fill their stomachs. They believe this is the only way they can escape from the lap of death.”

He then signed the article “LAZAROS PAPADOGLU” and leaned back in his chair. Moments later he handed it to the editorial proofreader. A man with a coarse face and glasses took it and quickly looked it over. He made no changes and gave it back to Lazaros.

“Take it to the printing house. The editor is there,” he said and placed his elbows on the chair as he leaned back.

2. Lazaros Papadoglu went down to the printing house. The editor reviewed the text and nodded affirmatively. He was pleased with it.

“Give it to Hronos to put it in,” he said quietly.

Lazaros smiled proudly. A number of people wearing hats and long coats entered the printing room. They held pistols in their hands. They lined up at the door and began to fire. Lazaros turned pale with fear and dropped to the floor. Hronos grabbed his chest and fell dead on the floor. The intruders kept shouting. Lazaros sneaked between the printing presses and fled into another room. From there he went to the back door and, frightened, found himself in the street leading to the market. He ran down the alley holding the right side of his chest.

“Damn it, I have been shot by the fascist bastards!” he grunted and stopped running. He arrived at Agios Ekaterinis and stopped. He then ran again with his head down. He didn’t know where to hide. He needed medical attention.

“Pondilaki and the dock workers have long gone from the city. Who should I contact for help?” pondered Lazaros. He felt ill and was petrified with fear. He raised his head and looked. He saw Urania Papaioannou walking towards him, trying to balance herself. She

grabbed Lazaros by the waist and managed not to fall down and bang her head on the pavement.

“Well, well if it isn’t our reporter!” she said and smiled at him.

Lazaros’s face was pale. The wound from the bullet was hurting. Frightened he stared at Urania’s beautiful face in silence.

“I am being chased. We will talk another time…” he replied and wanted to escape from her grasp.

Urania smiled at him again with a softer and warmer smile. Lazaros was still upset and trembling.

“Do not worry, scribbler. We, the Macedonians, don’t eat people. Come with me! I will help you,” she said and pulled him by the hand. They went down the street. They turned off twice and went into an alley. Urania stopped in front of a house. Lazaros recognized the house.

“Is this your house?” asked Lazaros.

“Yes. No one is going to look for you here. You will be safe!” she replied and took him in. He was still holding the right side of his chest. He was afraid. His eyes anxiously darted from place to place inside the room where Urania had taken him.

“Lie down on the bed and calm down!” she said and walked out of the room. Lazaros hesitantly lay down on the bed.

“I must go. Urania is a government person. She will betray me,” Lazaros thought to himself.

Urania was back in the room. She appeared in different clothing. She was wearing a bare-necked dress with a slit on the right leg. She walked quietly and steadily.

“Make yourself comfortable! Relax, feel as if you are at home! she reassured him and sat beside him on the bed. She then helped him

take off his coat. She noticed a large red spot on his blue shirt. She was surprised and seemed upset.

“You have been shot!” she said and began to unbutton his shirt. She looked at his wound and smiled.

“It’s only a flesh wound. I will bandage it with a clean cloth,” she said, got out of the bed, went to the closet, picked up a bottle of rakia and a clean white T-shirt. She cleaned the wound with the rakia, ripped up the T-shirt and bandaged him with it.

“Lie down and sleep, you will regain your strength,” she said softly and went into another room to lie down and rest herself. Her wonderful body was irritated from fatigue. She lay down on the bed and covered herself with two colourful blankets. She began to think.

“Damn fate. One of these days I will end up in some dirty muddy ditch, stabbed by someone with a sharp blade. They all carry knives in this city these days and cut off heads without asking questions as to whom they belong. And there is no one to prosecute them because… on the contrary they will be given a reward. What kind of crazy times are these?” Urania thought to herself and slowly closed her large eyelids. The next day she woke up at noon. She prepared a meal and went to the other room where Lazaros Papadoglu was sleeping. She woke him up.

Lazaros Papadoglu jumped. He was startled.

“Don’t be afraid! Lie there. There is no need for you to get up! Let your wound heal and then we will worry about what happens next,” she said and handed him a large tray on which lay a plate of scrambled eggs, a chunk of cheese and a cup of tea.

Lazaros slowly picked up the tray and looked at her curiously.

“You don’t believe me? I am not angry at you even though I can see it in your eyes that you doubt my honesty... I am not hiding you because I like you or because I need something from you. I want to help you because you remind me of my brother Hristo,” she said calmly.

“I knew your brother Hristo. They sent him to a prison in Akronafplia with a group of communists,” replied Lazaros with a trembling voice and began to eat quickly.

The news startled Urania. She turned towards him, looked him in the eyes and said: “I don’t believe you!”

“So, now you don’t believe me? I was the one who took the list of names to the Macedonian organization,” he replied.

Urania felt weak at the knees, like she had lost the lower part of her beautiful legs. She then collapsed on the floor and disappeared into another world, known only to those who fall unconscious. Despite his own pain, Lazaros Papadoglu got out of the bed, dragged her to her own bed and laid her down on her silk sheets. He then poured some rakia under her nose. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He was happy to see that she was still alive. He laughed out loud victoriously and poured some rakia on her beautiful forehead.

“Uhhh!” she sighed painfully and slowly got out of bed. “It is already late. I must go to the boarding house and pick up the money. You stay here and keep quiet. No one is going to look for you here. If you don’t trust me then you can leave!” she said and handed him the big key that sat on the shelf. “Take it with you, I have another one,” she added and went into the other room. She got dressed and went out through the front door.

Lazaros Papadoglu was upset. His heart began to beat fast. He did not trust her. He had mixed feelings and could not decide what to do even after the door opened and Urania Papaioannou was back.

“I see you are still here?” she said with a smile on her face. She went into the other room. She came back dressed differently. Lazaros was feeling anxious. Urania noticed.

“I don’t mean to alarm you, young man. I am not going to ask you to go to bed with me. I want to observe you from afar. You remind me of my brother Hristo. I hope that he is still alive,” she said and shook

her beautiful body. She prepared him a meal and brought it to his bed. Lazaros accepted the food.

“Eat now!” she said. “The news from the printing house ‘Agonistis’ reached the boarding house. The government killed three people and wounded seven. The whole printing house was ransacked. I fear that you are the eighth person that was wounded and if I were you I would not show my face in public. They are searching for you. If they find you they will kill you. You have gotten on their nerves and they are sniffing for you everywhere,” concluded Urania.

Lazaros had nothing to say. His view was clear and there was concern in his eyes. Urania sat beside him on the bed and messed up his hair.

“Don’t worry! I will send you to a safe place. They will never find you there,” she said calmly, took the tray off his hands and got out of bed.

“Keep quiet! If they find you in my house we will both suffer,” she said and went to her room. Lazaros stretched lazily on the bed and about a half an hour later he was in dreamland.

3. Urania Papaioannou brought him new clothes, modest for her taste, but too rich for Lazaros. Urania helped him get dressed. She brought a bag from the other room and gave it to him. She then kissed him on the forehead.

“You must leave now. Pampas’s people have been following me. You will go to Kostaneria and ask for Stavre Nakovski. Tell him I sent you, and be careful on the road. The military, police and gendarmes have killed people and asked questions later. Hide well and take shelter in the forest,” she said.

“I have been near Kostaneria before. Thank you. I don’t know how you repay you for this,” muttered Lazaros.

Urania Papaioannou looked at him with her beautiful eyes and pushed him out of her door. Lazaros walked along the alley and

soon disappeared in the low houses where the security service never go at night.

Urania returned to her room and stood there concerned. This room at one time was the most beautiful room in her house. She left the house without locking the door. She wrapped her face with her long woolen scarf and, with a sad look on her face, arrived at the Sveta Katerina (St. Catherine’s) church. There was no one else inside except for priest Iraklo. He did not know her but opened his eyes wide open when he saw how much money Urania left at the Sveta Bogoroditsa (Holy Mother) icon. He was tempted to go over and remove her black scarf to see what kind of person was behind it, leaving so much money, but he was afraid that he might make her angry. He did not want any trouble. Also, this money could go a long way to providing food and clothing for the poor people of Solun as well as for those needing protection from the government. He left the secret of the woman hidden behind her black veil.

Urania lit two large candles. She thought nothing of the priest. She prayed to the Virgin Mary for the life of her brother Hristo, like it was her last hope to save him.

Iraklo could not help himself. He approached her. He did not dare unveil her but did speak to her.

“You have left a lot of money. The church thanks you for the gift…” he said and politely bowed.

“Give it to the communists, Father! Every day you will receive the same amount. Let them buy guns and let them shoot. Let them take power at least for a while so that they can save my brother,” she said and left the church without saying goodbye.

The priest was surprised and upset.

4. Urania returned to the boarding house but did not stay with the customers. She went into her room and lay on the bed. She was very tired and fell asleep.

There were no customers downstairs in the café. Only Hash and the Monarcho-Fascists Rasim Bey and his companion sat at a table near the bar. Urania’s half-drunken girls were sitting on their laps. They did not see Urania when she passed by them and went upstairs. The Monarcho-Fascists drooled over the girls, being happy to pass their day without a concern. About two hours before midnight the lights went out. There was silence for a moment. Then a spotlight appeared on the stage. The room was filled with the gentle whining sound of the bouzouki. Only one bouzouki was playing. Three half-dressed dancers appeared under the spotlight. They began to twirl their bodies, following the rhythm of the music.

Rasim Bey was holding one of the girls on his lap and licking her large chest with his tongue. At the same time he kept one eye on the smooth and well-shaped bodies of the dancers who curled, twisted and twirled to the rhythm of the music.

“Lower the blinds on the windows!” Rasim Bey ordered his escort.

Skender humbly bowed his head gently and lowered the curtains, shutting out all eyes looking in from the outside. Rasim Bey smiled and looked satisfied. He then removed the girl with the large breasts from his lap. He went on the stage and approached the dancers. He began to dance with them. Hash laughed out loudly. The Monarcho-Fascists began to clap their hands in rhythm to the music. Rasim Bey, pleased that the dancers accepted him and that he did not have to force himself on them, began to caress their naked bodies. The dancers went closer to him and kept butting him with their hips. He could barely stand on his feet. The bouzouki did not stop playing for an hour. After that everything stopped. The dancers kindly left Rasim Bey under the spotlight.

“Come back!” he yelled at the dancers. They ignored him.

Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin appeared at the café door and filled the entire place with his cavernous voice. The two Cretans followed him. The door behind them slammed shut with a loud bang as if announcing the entry of Urania’s new star, now entering the stage of the boarding house “Macedonia”. The bouzouki began to echo and she began to twist her agile body. Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin licked

his lips with his tongue and loudly screamed “silence”. There was silence… only the bouzouki was heard playing.

“April is my month and it has always been my favourite,” Alexei growled at Hash, releasing his cave voice to shake the room. “Bring whiskey from the bar!” he ordered the Cretans and sat near Hash at the Monarcho-Fascist table. The Cretans brought a bottle of whiskey from the bar and put it on the table in front of him.

Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin drank his whiskey with his eyes glued on the body of Urania’s new star dancing on the stage in café “Macedonia”. He wanted to deceive the naked body because he wanted it for himself. He grabbed the bottle from the table. He wanted to stand up but he felt someone’s heavy breathing behind his neck. He turned and saw Rasim Bey’s face.

“She is mine tonight. I will mess her up like no other before and I will pour everything I have into her,” said Rasim Bey and kissed and slobbered the Ukrainian’s forehead.

Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin looked him over from top to bottom. He was disgusted with his drunkenness and appalled by his appearance. He rudely gave him a push. Rasim Bey stumbled over the table and collapsed on the floor. He was unable to stand up. He felt no pain. He wiped his bloody face, shook his head hard and, furious, crawled towards Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin ready to kill him.

One of the Cretans jumped out of his chair at lightening speed and threatened Rasim Bey. But before he could reach him, Skender, Rasim Bey’s escort, jumped at him and, without warning, undetectably stuck his knife in his back. Then, before the Cretan even had a chance to cry out, Skender slit his throat.

The second Cretan saw what happened and went wild. He was amazed at how fast Skender had moved. He jumped out of his chair and ran towards Skender. He then pulled out his knife with the large, ribbed blade and threatened him. They looked at each other like a couple of roosters before a cock fight. They were testing each other. Suddenly they lunged at each other. Skender received a bloody right hand. During the second lunge the Cretan received a cut on his

chest. After that they separated but still circled each other, looking for an opening to lunge again.

Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin laughed so loud that he vibrated the glasses and bottles sitting on the counter. He stood up and with single blow sent Rasim Bey under the table. He then grabbed Skender and strangled him with his bare hands. Then, as if nothing had happened under the sun on a clear calm day, he turned his attention to the naked body of café “Macedonia’s” new star.

“Keep playing!” he yelled at the bouzouki player, picked up the naked girl’s fragile body and took her to the boarding house rooms.

“Have a good time with this beauty Alexei, and try and hold on to her for a long time. But remember, tomorrow we are leaving Solun. We are going to the mountains to hunt communists,” said Hash and clapped his hands to order another drink.

5. Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin climbed up the stairs. Café “Macedonia’s” new star was fearfully resting in his large arms. He passed by Urania Papaioannou’s room. Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin did not turn to look. It was like the room never existed and neither did his lover with whom he had enjoyed staying for days at a time, away from the people. He pushed his way into the naked star’s room and put her down on her bed. He then lay down beside her. His sizable frame caused the bed boards to cave in. He hit the floor like a monster in human form with a big bang. Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin laughed out loud. Stuck between the floor and Alexei’s massive body, the new star was barely able to breathe. She felt severe pain in her abdomen but had no breath to complain. The Ukrainian sank his mouth into her chest and mercilessly bit the new star’s breasts until she screamed to high heaven.

“How much money should I pay for dinner?” Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin asked with a serious tone of voice.

“Five thousand?” replied the girl with a twist.

Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin laughed so loudly that he shook the entire boarding house.

6. Urania Papaioannou woke up. She made an angry face and got up to lock the door. This was the first time in a long time that she actually locked her room door. She felt lonely and afraid, especially after she heard the Ukrainian’s loud laughter. She slept during the night feeling like someone was going to bust through the door and do her great harm. The circle of people with whom she had mingled until yesterday and those who she had swirled around her little finger were no longer with her. She did not understand why they had left and would no longer support her. She had done nothing to make them go away. She got out of bed and went in front of the mirror to look at herself. She noticed wrinkles on her forehead and around her eyes. She did not like what she saw. Dark thoughts began to occupy her mind and she saw herself aging fast. She quickly dismissed that thought because it made her feel unpleasant. She looked away and reluctantly and sluggishly went back to her bed and dropped herself on it. In the quiet she listened to Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin’s rough voice clamoring with café “Macedonia’s” new star, whom Urania herself had brought here from Athens at Dustin Brown’s request. Finally it was morning. She opened her blood-shot eyes wide open. Her stomach growled of hunger. But even though she was starving, she did not want to go down to the café to eat, for fear of running into the Ukrainian, or some of his friends, especially Rasim Bey and Hash. She waited for a long time until she was convinced that they had left. She wanted to toss something in her mouth quickly and leave before they returned. A strange fear began to overcome her. Something was telling her that she would not survive the day. It seemed to her that she occasionally saw apparitions coming over with a white carriage covered with black transparent sheets, inviting her to climb aboard. It seemed to her that a black figure was threatening to shackle her and take her to his kingdom. She did not see fear in his eyes, which she could clearly see belonged to Hash. There was something about these eyes that drove her to the border of madness.

“I will have to leave the boarding house for good,” she thought. “This is crazy. I have lost my authority as the owner of this boarding

house,” then quickly fried some eggs with cheese. She ate very quickly and returned to her room. She looked for her ownership papers for a long time. She was unable to find them. She gathered some food in a larger bag and left the boarding house. Walking on the street she remembered the coins she kept under the mattress. She went back to the boarding house. She stood by the bar counter. She heard a noise and shuddered with fear. She slowly turned. When she calmed down she saw tears running down the new star’s face, making her look a lot uglier than she was. She looked nothing like the girl she had brought from Athens and made the new star in the boarding house “Macedonia”.

“That bastard crippled me. Now I am broken. I will never be able to work again and follow my mother’s craft. Look what the monster did to me…” she muttered having difficulty speaking because of her constant sobbing, and opened her small chest to show Urania what he had done.

Urania blushingly looked at her breasts and saw red spots all over them.

“You are not the only one with bite marks and damaged breasts,” said Urania calmly, but not to appease her. She said it to confess her own darkness that was clutching at her soul and threatening to burst her spleen open. She looked at her new star’s damaged chest but did not mourn for her. Her biggest worry was where to find someone as beautiful as her that was willing to bare herself to her customers. Urania was no longer proud of even her own beauty. She hid her breasts even from herself because they made her suicidal.

“Go back to Athens! I will give you enough money to start a new job that is not dependent on stripping. Open a kiosk and sell donuts or a booth and sell cigarettes. Do anything except strip because you can lose your life,” said Urania and led her upstairs into her room. She then took out a large number of coins and gave them to her. She took the money and stashed it in her purse.

“What’s your name?” Urania asked her.

“My name is Irina,” replied the girl with a slight shy smile. She then slipped by Urania and went out towards the hallway. She stopped at the door, turned and said:

“Hash, the Ukrainian, Rasim Bey and the Monarcho-Fascists will be gone a long time. They left the city and went to fight the communists. If there is a God they will never return,” and disappeared down the hallway.

“Poor girl!” muttered Urania and closed the door. She lay down on her bed, stuck her head under her pillow and wept. She tossed and turned a long time before she fell asleep. She woke up early in the morning and came down to the café. She nibbled on some dried meat and then climbed up the stairs and went into her room. She lay there and fell asleep again. In the afternoon she heard a knock on the front door of the boarding house. Half-asleep she went to answer it. She was unwashed and wearing a nightgown. Her eyes were blood-shot and swollen. She opened the door and saw a young man.

“Come in!” she said.

The man at the door was young, good-looking and tough. He reminded her of her brother Hristo. He came in. He was carrying a bag in his hand. Urania recognized the bag.

“Take the bag! A young woman gave it to me before she died,” he said calmly and handed her the bag.

Urania took the bag. Some unknown force inside her made her stare at young man.

“What happened to Irina?” she asked quietly.

“She died. Some boys took it upon themselves to rape her on the train. She fought back. I was sitting in a nearby cabin when I heard her screaming. I ran but I got there too late. The boys had fled. The girl was lying there with a knife thrust in her neck. She managed to tell me to bring this bag to Urania Papaioannou,” said the man calmly.

“I am Urania. Sometimes God punishes innocent people,” she said. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Forgive me but I must go. I have commitments,” said the man.

“Before you do, please come in and have a drink of rakia with me,” she said.

“Thank you, but I don’t drink alcohol,” replied the man and reached out to shake her hand.

Urania accepted his hand and pressed it firmly.

“When you are free please come back. I would love to talk with you,” said Urania and let go of his hand.

“Thank you for the invitation and goodbye. I hope our paths cross again…” replied the man and left the boarding house.

Urania Papaioannou stood there silent like a rock. And even though she swore she would never get naked in front of anyone… she would never take off her clothes and reveal the shame of her beautiful body… she wished to have this stranger in her company. Deep inside she hoped that the stranger would visit her again. She returned to her room, locked the door and lay down on the bed.

“I know those hoodlums went to hunt communists but what happened to the Englishmen and the American?” she wondered. She closed her eyes and turned facing the wall. She kept tossing and turning a long time before she fell asleep.

II

1. Twenty kilometres southwest of Solun, Peter MacDonald was calmly walking among the soldiers with a smile on his face. He was wearing a new uniform. His boots burrowed into the grass and pulled grass blades out of the ground. He walked into the unit’s headquarters. Inside he found Hash, Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin and Rasim Bey.

“Have some brandy! It’s good!” said Hash and laughed wildly.

Peter MacDonald sat down on the chair offered to him by Rasim Bey and took off his hat. Hash poured some of the yellowish liquid from the bottle that read “BRANDY” into a glass and handed it to him.

“Cheers Colonel!” Hash toasted MacDonald.

Peter MacDonald took the glass, lifted it up high and laughed out loud.

“To the destruction of the Communists!” he said brazenly and drank some.

“To the destruction of the communists! Long live England!” yelled Hash enthusiastically, gulped down the entire glass and filled it again. His face blushed from the alcohol. His eyes gleamed wildly.

“When are we moving out, Colonel? I can’t wait to get some action,” said Hash.

“We are leaving this afternoon. There will be one hundred of you. You have weapons, clothes and food. It is up to you now to complete the task flawlessly,” replied MacDonald.

“What about our horses?” asked Hash indignantly.

“You will get your horses ten kilometres north of Voden,” replied MacDonald.

Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin laughed so hard he spilled his brandy.

“Will we be getting military horses?” asked Alexei.

“Military! First class! The best!” replied MacDonald. “I hope you will justify the funds we spent on you for this operation,” added MacDonald.

“Don’t worry! We will cut more communist heads than Hitler himself did!” said Alexei reassuringly.

“Well, Alexei, I hope so…” said MacDonald, stood up, walked out of the building and went into a small village house with several rooms. Outside he was approached by a young man wearing a belt of cartridges around his chest. The young man smiled. MacDonald noticed the gold tooth in his upper jaw.

“How are you, Mr. Kovachevich? Are your soldiers obeying your orders?” asked MacDonald jokingly.

Vlade Kovachevich smiled shyly. He seemed afraid. MacDonald was unable to ascertain where the fear was coming from. Why was Vlade afraid and from what.

“We are ready for action. My ten people are waiting,” replied Vlade.

“Good Vlade. I hope you will fight better than you did in Serbia against Tito’s communists,” said MacDonald, pulled out a box of cigarettes and offered him one.

“Thank you, I smoke tobacco,” said Vlade.

Peter MacDonald took out a cigarette and put the box back in his coat pocket. He clicked his lighter and lit it. He took a long puff, held the smoke in for some time and then exhaled slowly.

“Colonel Bortas has arrived. I will see you later, Mr. Kovachevich,” said MacDonald with a friendly tone of voice and went out to meet the man with the unusually large moustache riding a horse.

“At your command, Colonel!” said Bortas and got off his horse. They shook hands.

“My respect, Colonel!” replied MacDonald politely. “The government sent us the best officer in the Greek army. The communists have no chance against you,” he added.

“We will cut them to pieces, Colonel. What kind of army have you prepared me to lead?” asked Bortas with much interest.

“The best! They are all tested and hardened fighters. They very much want to fight against the communists. You will see for yourself at the front,” replied MacDonald.

“They have no other choice! God, we will be one hell of an army! Where are the soldiers from?” asked Bortas.

Peter MacDonald looked at him and smiled shyly.

“From the neighbouring countries… The communists offered them a rope around their necks and they fled. Every one of them has committed crimes and has a hundred lives on their conscience. This country is Eldorado for them. I hope you know how to appreciate the benefits of such a course and turn it in our favour,” replied MacDonald.

“Certainly, Colonel. What officer would not wish for an army that he can destroy for the right struggle without a care about it…” said Bortas and laughed out loud.

“You did not understand me, Sir. These criminals are desperate people without any chance of starting a new life. The epaulets on your uniform mean nothing to them. They will kill you if you stand in their way. These were criminals of the first order in the countries they come from. There is no chance of them ever returning to their homeland...” replied MacDonald.

“Then we will have a party every day!” said Bortas and laughed again.

“It will be a slaughterhouse, Colonel, a slaughterhouse. Let the blood flow. No one shall be spared. Everything will go under the blade of the knife,” said MacDonald with a serious tone of voice and went back to the building from which he had come earlier. Bortas followed. They went inside.

“This is Colonel Bortas, your unit commander,” said MacDonald with a stern voice.

Hash, Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin and Rasim Bey stood up.

“Sit!” said Bortas quietly.

Hash filled a glass of brandy and handed it to Bortas.

“Drink with us, Mr. Bortas,” he said.

Bortas’s face turned serious. He refused the brandy and looked at Hash sternly.

“I am ‘Colonel’ to you, young man!” he shouted at Hash in a loud and stern voice.

Hash laughed cynically and pushed the glass of brandy towards him again.

“Drink with us, Colonel!” he said humbly.

Bortas smiled and accepted the brandy.

“Thank you, young man. You will make a good soldier…” replied Bortas and before he finished speaking Hash said:

“And I will serve the monarchy well, Colonel!”

Bortas laughed, raised his glass and said:

“To the monarchy and to our friends from England!” and then took a drink.

“Have a drink!” yelled Hash looking at Peter MacDonald.

Everyone was surprised. Bortas coughed. Peter MacDonald took a couple of steps towards the window. Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin and Rasim Bey grinned.

“Long live the king!” Hash yelled again.

Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin and Rasim Bey raised their glasses towards Hash. Hash topped them with more brandy.

“Long live the king!” they both shouted.

“This is how you should toast when you drink. So that everyone knows who you serve,” said Hash and grinned contentedly.

Bortas exhaled deeply. He was calming down. Peter MacDonald swallow hard and slowly began to loosen up.

“Let’s go gentlemen!” said Bortas, finished his drink, put his empty brandy glass on the table and went outside. Peter MacDonald, Hash, Alexei Ivanovich Starovkin and Rasim Bey followed.

“Gather your people! It’s time to go!” Bortas ordered Hash.

“Right away, Colonel!” replied Hash and separated from the group. He then dragged a man with a trumpet in his hand and positioned him in the middle of the yard. He looked at him sternly. The man looked upset.

“We are the military!” Hash yelled at him in a threatening tone of voice.

The man loosened up slightly and kept looking at Hash.

“What kind of shit military are we? We have no uniforms and we are here to save our own hides…” said the man.

“Then blow the damn trumpet to gather the others!” replied Hash calmly.

The man blew the trumpet. Three rows of men quickly formed and disappeared into the woods and from Peter Macdonald’s view.

III

It was late morning. Iorgo, the train station master at Boimitsa train station, raised his baton that directed train motion. The great steam locomotive was puffing noisily, covering the entire place with fog. The train began to squeal, creak and bang. It then stopped a dozen or so metres in front of Iorgo.

“Boimitsa!” Iorgo yelled out loudly and put his baton under his arm. He waited one minute and then raised his baton again. The steam locomotive began to puff raising a great cloud of steam which covered its large iron wheels. The engine began to move creating a cascading banging noise along the entire train as it tugged on the wagons behind it. Iorgo held his baton up high until the last wagon passed him by. He then lowered his baton and looked around. He noticed two women and a couple of scrawny children walking towards him on the platform. One was brown-skinned, smaller and uglier than the other but had a cute face and skinny legs. She was holding a child in her arms.

“The child is still suckling…” Iorgo thought to himself as they came closer. They smiled at him.

“Good afternoon!” he said and smiled back at them.

“Good afternoon, train master,” replied Iana Chakalarova. “We are looking for German Gelebeshev. Can you tell us where he lives?”

Iorgo continued to smile, trying to look his best.

“I will show you. Come with me,” he replied and went inside the station. Iana Chakalarova and her son and Maria Stavridis, carrying her baby in her arms, followed. He escorted them through the waiting room and they came out of the station on the other side. He stopped and gave them directions.

“Turn at the second street and you will find German in the third house. He is a good man,” he said.

“Thank you for your help sir!” replied Iana with a smile and the two women went down the street. Iana’s son followed behind.

“Good luck to you!” he yelled behind them. “What a beauty?” Iorgo thought to himself about Iana. He kept looking at them until they disappeared from his view at the corner of the second street. A cold raindrop fell on his bald head prompting him to go inside.

2. Iana Chakalarova was the first to arrive at German Gelebeshev’s front gate. The gate was open and she entered the yard. The courtyard was a mess, there was scattered luggage and the flowers in the garden had dried up. She looked confused. She climbed up the stairs and knocked on the door of the two-story house. She waited a while. A woman over forty, wearing a dark brown head kerchief embroidered with silk thread, came out. Her face looked exhausted. Her eyes were sunken and her lips were cracked in several places.

“Come on in,” she said and invited them in with a swing of her arm.

“Thank you. We are looking for German,” replied Iana.

The woman did not reply. She took them to a large room decorated with colourful rugs with a strange, beautiful and warm pattern. They sat on a bed covered with a burgundy bed cover. They felt tired from their long journey.

“German will be back tonight,” said the woman who, from Iana’s angle, looked like she had been very beautiful when she was young. The woman was kind to them.

“My name is Neda. German is my husband. Now please excuse me I have to get back to the kitchen. I am preparing some food…” she said and disappeared behind the door.

Maria Stavridis with little Kosta leaned on the bed and fell asleep. Risto, Iana’s son sat beside her and dozed off. Iana was the only one with her eyes open.

Neda came back and noticed them sleeping. She smiled gently.

“They are tired,” said Iana quietly.

“Let them sleep! Why aren’t you sleeping?” asked Neda.

“I haven’t been able to sleep for a few days now…” replied Iana and sighed.

“Then come over to the kitchen! I will make you something to eat. They can eat when they wake up,” said Neda.

3. The lunch was modest. Neda went out into the yard. Iana leaned on the bench and disappeared. She woke up three hours later. It was evening and German was back. Iana could not keep her eyes off him. She had never seen such a handsome man before. He had a mild and mellow voice. Iana listened to every word he said.

“Pondilaki helped me a lot. I owe him my life. Three years ago he took me out of the Pavlos Melas prison. The Germans were going to execute me. Many of our people never came out alive from that prison,” said German.

Iana was silent. She never took her eyes off him and listened to every word he said. Later that night German left their room. The next day he got up very early. He watered the livestock and baked some bread in the oven. Iana Chakalarova slept until ten o’clock. German waited for her in the kitchen. She looked sleepy. He offered her warm bread and milk. She sat at the table and they had breakfast together.

“In two days I will be transferring a large group of people over the border. You should all go with them,” he said.

Iana Chakalarova did not reply. Anyone who noticed her would have seen that she could not keep her eyes off German. She remained silent. Occasionally she sighed. She was happy that there was a plan to transfer people to the other side of the border. People who were afraid could still leave. But German saw great hope in her.

Maria Stavridis was still worried. She kept looking at German’s mouth but did not know what he was saying. She did not speak Macedonian. To her, their departure remained a secret.

4. After spending three days in German’s house Iana Chakalarova, her son Risto, Maria Stavridis and her son Kosta, accompanied by German Gelebeshev, left the house and headed into the forest. They walked for two hours. High in the mountains they met a large group of people in a meadow. They were startled. German approached them smiling. He had a peaceful look about him. Some of the people ran over and shook his hand.

“We have arrived,” said German.

Iana Chakalarova nodded with her tired head. A middle-aged man wearing a black coat and shaded glasses came towards her.

“According to the description I was given in Kostaneria, you must be Iana,” said the man and stuck his hand out. “My name is Ziso,” he then added.

Iana Chakalarova looked upset. She extended her hand and they shook hands. Iana was now confused. She did not know who this man was and was surprised by his behaviour. She thought the man was joking.

“My name is Iana Chakalarova!” she said with a stern tone of voice.

“That’s exactly what they told me… Pondilaki and Stavre Nakovski are sending you their regards from Kostaneria,” he said.

“Iana smiled. The redness disappeared from her face. Ziso turned away, went towards German and said:

“We will wait another five minutes, just in case more arrive, and then we will go.”

German nodded affirmatively with his head. About five minutes later Ziso looked at his watch and loudly said:

“Okay people, we are leaving!”

German went to the front. The others followed him. They walked along the crest of the mountain headed towards the top. At least that’s what Iana surmised. The mountain terrain was wild and rugged which slowed down their progress. They were all wearing soft shoes which did not help. Their feet began to ache and their knees were weakening. Fatigue soon overcame them and they needed rest. They sat on the wet grass but their rest was short. German’s soft voice led them through the stony ground.

Maria Stavridis began to stagger and fell down from fatigue. She managed to fall down on her back and did not hurt her child who fell on her stomach as she landed on the ground. Iana Chakalarova ran up to help her and took her child off her. She then helped her get up.

“I will carry him,” Iana said.

Maria Stavridis was in tears. A column of about a hundred people stopped moving… but soon began moving again. The sun began to beat down on them mercilessly, burning their heads.

“Rest!” German yelled out loud. The column stopped moving.

The people sat down on the grass. German allowed them to eat but was not happy with their pace of movement.

“Don’t leave any trace that we were here. If the government troops or criminal gangs find out that we were here they will pursue us and kill us to the last one,” warned German with a firm tone of voice.

“It would be good to take shelter in the woods and travel during the night,” said Ziso.

“There is no need for us to go to the woods. We are already in the woods. We will stay here until dark. Then we will continue. We are close to the border but this belt of land is very dangerous. Especially if we run into the border patrol,” said German.

I agree!” said Ziso and lay down on the grass.

5. They all lay hidden under a large chestnut tree, hoping that the moon would be out during the night. Ziso was satisfied with how things were progressing but German looked a bit nervous. Iana Chakalarova was tired of sitting on the grass and was anxious to get moving. Maria Stavridis was hungry and was eating bread and cheese.