XIII

XIII

1. “This year passed. The government is again bravely telling us that we will win. The five people from the other side of the border who brought us weapons, ammunition, food and clothes have not been seen for a long time. It must be a big quarrel for them not to be coming. Who knows what kind of mess this is? Lately all I hear is accusations. I am not interested to know whether the leader is blamed for his right orientation in politics, or for his opportunism. I just don’t care! For me all this is a bad sign. Everything is going to hell. Iana is attending the Macedonian National Liberation Front Second Plenum and will bring back new news. But what kind of news will she bring? Will they change the program of the struggle and their politics?” muttered Stavre to himself and had a sip of his rakia.

Tushi Gonev walked into the store and said:

“Iana Chakalarova has returned. I am sure she has some new news from Supreme Command?”

“Bring her here! Ask her to come here immediately!” ordered Stavre.

Instead of sitting down, like he was preparing to do, Tushi Gonev dashed his ass out the door. A few minutes later he returned with Iana Chakalarova.

“Hello, Stavre!” she yelled out and sat down beside him. “You look preoccupied… lost in your thoughts…” she added.

“Don’t screw with me, talk!” he said impatiently.

“Aren’t you going to let me rest a bit first…” she replied jokingly.

“Please Iana speak, otherwise I will go crazy! Spill the beans…” he said with a serious tone of voice.

“The chiefs are proposing a struggle for the unification of all Macedonians in a single independent Macedonian state. What do you say to that?!” replied Iana.

“The chiefs... Why don’t they destroy the government in Skopje by themselves? Why are they now forcing us into this fratricidal war in which they expect us to destroy each other? Does that screwball think we don’t know how much time he spent in Belgrade warming his ass, sipping drinks in the foreign government offices? Stavre has not forgotten World War II. Then too they wanted to push us to exterminate ourselves. Only then the wind was blowing from Berlin. Who are we disturbing? The Balkans? The world? Who? Let them attack Skopje on their own. I am not helping them. In fact I want to do the opposite, I want to break their heads... Turn on the radio Stefanos! Perhaps Supreme Command will tell some jokes. Perhaps they will ask us to kill our own wives and children...” said Stavre.

“Why are you so cowardly? We will do what we choose to do, plain and simple!” said Tushi.

The radio began to talk. The third piece of news was: THE CPG CENTRAL COMMITTEE DENIES THE NEWS THAT AN AGREEMENT FOR THE CREATION OF A BALKAN COMMUNIST FEDERATION AND THE MACEDONIAN STATE HAS BEEN REACHED, WHICH WILL UNITE MACEDONIANS IN ONE COUNTRY. THIS KIND OF NEWS IS BEING SPREAD BY ATHENS.

“Well, here is your Conference. The political types again! The war requires human lives, not political figures. This will not go unchallenged. Someone must be held accountable to the people,” said Stavre.

Iana was silent. Tushi Gonev finished his drink and left the store. Stavre Nakovski kept staring at a dot on the wall. Iana thought he was going crazy.

XIV

Iana Chakalarova and Manoli Strezovski again found themselves at Supreme Command in Prespa. After a brief stay they again went back to Kostaneria. They rushed all the way back. Iana was nervous and moved fast. Manoli tried to keep up. They arrived in Kostaneria in the dark of night. Iana ran into the village. Manoli ran after her. He was unable to catch up. His biggest fear was that she would be mistakenly shot by the guards. Iana ran inside Stefanos’s store. Stavre was sitting with Pondilaki, Tushi Gonev and Stoian Dzhavalekov, calmly drinking his rakia. His eyes darted at her and he became startled watching her panting and looking nervous. He wanted to invite her to sit with him, but before he had a chance to say something she cried out:

“This is outrageous! I am going insane!”

“What is it with you? Every time you come back from Prespa you are nervous and believe someone is going to shoot us all,” said Pondilaki with a serious look on his face.

“I am not joking!” yelled Iana.

“Then calm down, sit down and tell us what’s going on!” said Stavre.

Iana Chakalarova sat next to Pondilaki and said:

“I am not going to Prespa again. Next time you can send someone else!”

“Slow down, Iana! What happened?” asked Stavre concerned.

“They constantly lie! They constantly argue! They invent things. I will tell you everything that happened. But first I want some tea. Bring me a tea, Stefanos,” she said.

“Right away, Miss,” replied Stefanos humbly.

Iana Chakalarova smiled at him.

“Now tell us everything…” requested Pondilaki.

“They are concerned about us Macedonians. Many of us are deserting the ranks of the army. They say we are cowards,” replied Iana.

“Who said that?” asked Stavre with a dazed look on his face.

“The new commander. The Macedonian organization printed leaflets condemning the slogan for a free and independent Macedonian state within a Balkan Communist Federation, stating that slogans like this are detrimental to the Greek and Macedonian democratic movement. That was in the news. After that we found ourselves in hell. Villagers were being displaced. The Monarcho-Fascist army was attacking and destroying villages. We were almost caught. Thankfully we knew our way around. There was not a soul left alive anywhere. We only had one meal all this time. There is no village that was not attacked. There were no people anywhere. The unexpected just happened. Only God knows where the villagers disappeared. What a misfortune,” said Iana.

“You are kidding me, right?” asked Stavre with a surprised look on his face and smiled.

“Here is another piece of news! We have established a ‘Communist Party of Aegean Macedonia’. I hope this is big news for you... A few days ago we stopped living in Macedonia. We are now the residents of ‘Aegean Macedonia’...” added Iana.

Stavre looked at her with disappointment and said: “In other words, the wagon is now rolling downhill. ‘No love affair ever ends in happiness,’ just like in the ancient plays. This is like an ancient tragedy... What a mess we have made? Not even the best psychic could have predicted this. Our hopes are rolling downhill with the wagon and are about to hit bottom... Every day they scream for twinning the armies. What a mess we are in...” Stavre then turned to Pondilaki and in a desperate tone of voice said: “Say something, Pondilaki! You are quiet, as if you are not part of this mess.”

Stefanos brought Iana her tea and put it on the table. He also brought some sugar in a ceramic bowl and a teaspoon.

“It is done now… It is over. What can I possibly do in this whole mess? I have no magic wand…” replied Pondilaki and took a sip of his rakia.

“Then I will sing!” yelled Stavre with tears rolling down his cheeks. He began to sing. He chose the familiar patriotic “Apostole Voidvoda” song. His deep, lyrical voice filled the room. His melody filled the store, bounced off the walls and spilled out onto the village street, raising the dust that had accumulated since the last rain… blown from the fields.

Pondilaki could not resist. The song was boiling his blood. He also raised his voice and combined it with Stavre’s. The others joined in. Iana Chakalarova sang with them. The song filled the village. Their voices reached Vangelios Kotinaris. He too began to sing. Voices were heard singing in all corners of the village. The grove roared… the mountains cried... but the song did not subside...

2. Milkiadis’s wife, Evridika Tsakondas, popped her little head out of the window. The singing was making her nervous. She was restless. She was afraid. She was reminded of the day when God saved her husband from a bullet. She was afraid that day was about to be repeated. Standing beside her was Milkiadis. He was shivering and his eyes were filled with fear. He grabbed his children and began to pace back and forth, waiting for his fate to be determined.

3. Vasil Digalovski lay in bed. He was shivering. He knew that the people of Kostaneria had not sung that song for years and when they did it was because something big was going to happen, just like it did in the days of the great uprising. His mother lay in the next room. The song moved her…

“You are a buffalo! You are the only freak to be born in Kostaneria. You make me feel ashamed. Not even the oxen want to live with this kind of shame,” she yelled out angrily.

Vasil Digalovski did not reply. He knew that his life lay in her old hands.

“Stavre didn’t kill you… not because he didn’t want to spoil his soul with your blood. He didn’t kill you because of my late father Iovan. You can be thankful of that. Everyone sang songs about Iovan and celebrated his deeds because he was a good man. He always defended the poor and the oppressed. He gave his life for Macedonia. That is why Stavre didn’t kill you. He left you alive so that you can take your own life… so you can put a bullet in your own head. If you are not ashamed of living then live, but don’t have any children. They don’t deserve to carry your shame. You would not want people pointing a finger at your children, grandchildren and great grandchildren for generations to come saying there goes the offspring of the Judas who betrayed his own people, just like Judas betrayed Christ in the old world. The people will always remember what you have done. You made your own fate my son…” she said with tears dripping down her cheeks. “It would be best for God to take my soul… Just to save me from you. Why do you do this? Why have you brought shame to my family? Why have you dumped my dignity in the stench of the compost pile…?” she continued.

All this time Vasil Digalovski was silent. The song was cutting through his body like a knife. He wanted to come down and beg for forgiveness. He wanted to go outside and apologize to all the fighters. But he did not have the courage to look anyone in the eye.

He stumbled his way over to his rifle hanging on the wall and grabbed it. He pressed the hammer back and pulled the trigger. The bang echoed through the house and escaped to the outdoors. A large flame flared out. The bullet struck him on his chest. Vasil slowly slid down and fell to the floor. He lay there motionless.

The old woman wept. “Forgive me son, it is stronger than me…” she muttered and at the very moment fell to the floor.

4. The shot was louder than the singing voices and cut the song like a knife. Stavre Nakovski jumped out of his chair and ran out to the

street. He ran in the direction of the shot and ended up in the Digalovski house. Everyone ran after him. They all went inside. They were disturbed by the sight.

“May God forgive you, mother,” said Stavre loudly, lifted the old woman’s frail body and put it on the bed. “Tomorrow we will bury her in the village cemetery… with military honours,” said Stavre to Vangelios Kotinaris with a stern tone of voice.

“And him?” asked Kotinaris pointing at Vasil Digalovski’s dead body.

“Throw him on the compost pile for the dogs and wild beasts to tear apart. He does not deserve to be buried with the people of Kostaneria,” replied Stavre while standing over the bed, staring at the old woman’s face. “Now leave me alone with her!” he added and waited for everyone to leave the room. He then sat on the bed beside her and stayed there all night long without moving a muscle. He treated her like she was his own mother.

5. Milkiadis Tsakondas was trembling like a leaf in the downstairs room. Evridika was squeezing her thin fingers in her hands nervously. Only the children were sleeping. The adults could not sleep all night… All night they expected death to crush through the door and take them away.

6. The next morning they buried the old woman in the village cemetery. After the funeral Stavre went to see Pondilaki. He sat on the opposite bed. He noticed the bed was covered with a beautiful and colourful woolen blanket.

“The government in Athens has instituted a general offensive to wipe out everything that moves in the mountains and fields. Everything that belongs to the Democratic Army,” said Stavre with an anxious tone of voice.

“What is your plan then?” asked Pondilaki.

“I don’t have a plan. More precisely Vangelios Kotinaris should have a plan. He is the military commander,” replied Stavre.

“I understand... Fighting in the city is a bit different...” said Pondilaki and shook his head as if intending to regain his clarity.

7. Up on top of the hill Tushi Gonev was laying flat on his stomach looking into the distance through his binoculars. Pondilaki was standing beside him. Stavre Nakovski coughed a dry cough. Tushi handed him the binoculars and said:

“Look at your friends more closely! It’s as if they can’t live without us…”

Stavre Nakovski took the binoculars and looked into the distance.

“They are coming straight for us…” said Stavre and handed the binoculars to Vangelios Kotinaris who was then scratching his chin.

Kotinaris took the binoculars and smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. The same goes for the people of Kostaneria. Decide what you want to do and do it fast… before it’s too late!” said Stavre to Kotinaris calmly.

Vangelios Kotinaris looked through the binoculars and whistled. He was surprised.

“There are over five thousand of them. Where the hell did the government get so many soldiers?” he said, looked around at the others and said: “Let’s go, people! Let’s head for the village.” They set off for the village immediately and collected as many fighters as they found on the way. When they arrived in the village they went from door to door and gathered all the villagers and everyone who resided in their houses and brought them to the village square. When everyone was present Vangelios Kotinaris stepped up in front of them and calmly said:

“People! A large army was spotted in the distance. It is coming fast in this direction. We must go and hide immediately. Whoever wants to stay in the village can stay but the rest must go. Those who think they are unsafe in this country we will evacuate. We will take you over the border. Does everyone understand?” he yelled out loudly.

They were all silent. After that they went back to their homes and prepared to leave. Everyone took whatever they could carry in their hands and came back to the village square. The majority of the villagers wanted to be evacuated. They were prepared to go over the mountain ridge and follow the group of ten armed fighters waiting to escort them across the Yugoslav border. Surprised at the commander’s order Stavre stopped the fighters, turned to Kotinaris and said:

“Don’t you know that our relationship with Yugoslavia has been soured? Are you sending them to be killed?”

Kotinaris looked at him and said: “Listen Stavre, politics are politics but people are people. No matter what the politics, the people will find a way around them. Don’t worry; they will reach their destination safely.” Kotinaris then turned to the fighters and said: “Go now!”

The fighters left and Stavre and Kotinaris followed behind.

“We can’t go that way. We are slaves of politics. We need to take a different direction…” advised Kotinaris.

“Where will we go?” asked Stavre.

“We have to go to Prespa, to Supreme Command. I hope it’s still there when we arrive…” replied Kotinaris.

Kotinaris looked through the binoculars at the first hill, smiled and said:

“You can relax now Stavre. The army is coming this way. Your villagers are safe. They have crossed the border and are now on the other side. Kotinaris then walked away to join the fighters.

Stavre Nakovski smiled and followed.

“Yes, they are coming this way… to uproot us…” he muttered to himself and accelerated his pace. He soon caught up to Kotinaris and the two walked together to the top of the mountain.

XV

1. Sweating profusely, Vangelios Kotinaris walked in front of the brigade. Beside him was Iana Chakalarova hanging on to Stavre’s shoulder. They all walked slowly. They were all silent. Vangelios Kotinaris stopped and instructed the fighters to take the goat path. He took his binoculars out and looked into the distance. His face looked tired. He handed the binoculars to Stavre Nakovski and said:

“They have been quietly following us for two days and two nights. They are sure they will catch us. Maybe they know where we’re going?” said Kotinaris worried.

Stavre Nakovski looked through the binoculars and then gave them back to Kotinaris.

“Why haven’t they shot at us?” asked Stoian Dzhavalekov.

Pondilaki laughed.

“When they start shooting our heels will turn our asses blue…” he quipped, grabbed Stoian’s hand tightly, looked him in the eyes and said: “You came here all the way from Skopje to lay your life for us. Let me thank you now because I may not get another chance. My sincere thanks for all that you have done, not only for us but for the sake of all the Macedonian and Greek people.”

Tushi Gonev began to cry. He too firmly shook Stoian Dzhavalekov’s hand.

“There is no need for tears... Let’s get moving!” interjected Iana.

Vangelios Kotinaris looked at her strangely. Iana gave him a stern look.

“Okay people. Let’s go! Let’s pick up the pace! We have a long way to go,” ordered Kotinaris and followed behind the column. The others followed him.

2. Tired they climbed along the ridge of the mountain and entered a dense forest. About an hour later they were all exhausted and sat down to rest. It was getting dark. They spotted a fire burning in the distance at the bottom of the hill. Vangelios Kotinaris finished eating the last piece of bread and got up from the cold stone he was sitting on.

“We are leaving!” he said sternly.

The fighters got out of the grass and prepared for departure. Vangelios Kotinaris led them through the dark. They were making a lot of noise walking over the crunching leaves on the rough terrain. Eventually they reached the top of the mountain.

“The government troops are not coming after us, are they…?” asked Pondilaki.

“Why are they coming then? According to my estimates we are about five kilometers away from Supreme Command... I can’t understand the rational of their commander? Why don’t they attack? Surely they have a plan!?” replied Kotinaris.

“Don’t bang you head against the wall, Kotinaris! Look around you and it will be perfectly clear to you,” said Stavre.

Vangelios Kotinaris looked around in every direction and whistled. He was both surprised and upset.

“We have landed in the middle of the fire... Let us hurry, otherwise the government troops will roast us on a spit,” he said and hurried to get to the head of the column. Iana Chakalarova followed close behind. She looked concerned.

“Pay careful attention when you approach our guards! They have orders from the supreme commander to shoot at everything that moves... I better go ahead because I know the password and have contacts there,” she said.

“No need,” he said looking concerned. He often looked at the big fires that surrounded the mountain. He felt his heart beating fast. He was pushing himself with all his strength. He led the fighters over a narrow plain and he then entered the woods. He stopped for a moment and then continued.

“Stop! Who goes there?!” he heard a stern voice yell out.

Vangelios Kotinaris stopped. He seemed less concerned. His anxiety began to fade. He unbuttoned the top button on his shirt and muttered: “Finally!” A bullet flew over his head. Iana Chakalarova pushed him into the juniper bushes and fell on top of him. The fighters flew behind the trees and hid. Vangelios Kotinaris came out of the grove, put his arms over his head and yelled out:

“It is us, fighters of the Democratic Army…”

There was silence. Iana Chakalarova listened to her own heavy breathing. Vangelios Kotinaris looked into the darkness and yelled out:

“Don’t Shoot! It is us!”

“Which unit are you from?” asked the stern voice.

Vangelios Kotinaris looked at Iana.

“Tell them whatever you want! Otherwise we will be roasting in two fires,” she said very quietly.

“We are from the 114th Division. This is Captain Kotinaris’s battalion,” yelled Kotinaris loudly, trying hard to mask the tremble in his voice.

“Captain Kotinaris step forward, the others stay behind!” yelled the stern voice.

Vangelios Kotinaris raised his hands high and dropped his rifle. The rifle butt got stuck in the grass.

“I am coming out!” yelled Kotinaris.

“Wait! Maybe they are not who we think!” said Pondilaki quietly.

“I think so too! Maybe they are not!” said Stavre.

“I am going anyway! We have no choice. If I don’t come back to get you do the best you can on your own…” he said and slowly went in the direction of the stern voice.

“Wait! Wait! Perhaps there is another way!” shouted Iana excitedly.

Vangelios Kotinaris did not turn to look at her frightened eyes. He climbed up the slope and stopped.

“Come closer, Captain,” said the stern voice.

Vangelios Kotinaris took careful steps.

“Stop!” yelled the stern voice. “For God’s sake, is that you Kotinaris?” asked the voice.

Vangelios Kotinaris was surprised. He stood there stunned but full of excitement trying to remember where he had heard that voice and who was the man addressing him.

“My dear Kotinaris…” said the man in a kinder tone of voice.

Vangelios Kotinaris looked confused. A tall man wearing a belt with cartridges around his chest came out of the dark shadows.

“You...!” yelled Kotinaris surprised.

“Yes… me… my friend. Come and give me a hug…” said the man and opened his arms wide open.

Vangelios Kotinaris went towards him and they entered into an embrace. There were tears in their eyes.

“What the hell are you doing here Vangelios?” asked the man.

“It’s a long story, friend. I will tell you another time…” replied Kotinaris looking relaxed.

“Don’t Shoot! Those are our fighters,” the man advised his guard and escorted Kotinaris up the hill to the guard house.

“I recognized your voice; otherwise you would have been dead now,” said the man.

“Why?” asked Kotinaris looking confused.

The man laughed out loud.

“The 114th Division?! We are the 114th Division…” the man said cheerfully. “Call your fighters to come here,” he added.

Vangelios Kotinaris thought for a moment.

“Are you going to call them or shall I?” said the man.

“They will not come. I will have to go and get them,” replied Kotinaris.

“Go then and we will talk later because hell is about to break loose any moment now,” said the man.

Vangelios Kotinaris smiled with a painful look on his face. He then ran down to the grove looking for his fighters in the dark. He couldn’t see anything.

“Stavre, its Kotinaris…” he yelled out in a muffled tone of voice.

Stavre Nakovski came out from behind a tree. Iana Chakalarova also came out.

“It’s okay, they are our boys… we can go up now…” said Kotinaris.

“Excellent! We made it. Bravo Kotinaris!” said Iana.

“Follow me!” said Kotinaris and went towards the guards.

They climbed up the hill. Vangelios Kotinaris noticed the trenches all over the place with fighters crouching in them. “This is not a not a military post, it looks more like a front,” he said.

“Go in the trenches quickly. They will start shooting at any moment now. We have been fighting the government troops for several days. There are so many of them…” someone said.

Vangelios Kotinaris stepped into a trench and was followed by his fighters. Tired, Iana Chakalarova leaned on Kotinaris and said:

“What do you think of this place?”

“I still have difficulty comprehending what is happening here …” he said and pushed Stoios Panagopoulos with his machine gun. “Don’t go to sleep!” he said, “stay awake if you want to see the light of day. It may be your last…”

Stavre Nakovski laughed out loud. He upset everyone. They looked at him sternly.

“We are at the end of the world. Even if we come out of this hole alive we have lost our country and what we are fighting for. We lost everything…” said Stavre.

Vangelios Kotinaris was confused. Pondilaki tapped Stavre on the shoulder.

“What are your politicians saying about this, Iana?” asked Stavre.

“The politicians blame Yugoslavia. They say that Yugoslavia is working with the government in Athens and allowing it to strike us from behind,” she replied.

“Did they tell you this during your last meeting?” asked Stavre.

“Yes. I just didn’t have the time to tell you…” replied Iana.

“They are lying! You know that for four days we personally went along the border. You were there with us. Many times we walked along the border and there was no such thing happening there. Why did you not tell them that this was a lie? They need a scapegoat to cover their own asses. Today Yugoslavia… tomorrow who? Who will they blame tomorrow?” asked Stavre.

“I don’t know. Perhaps there will be no tomorrow. Perhaps it’s best that way…” replied Iana.

“Be careful Iana! The times are bad. The fire pit has been lit and the spit is ready. It is now waiting for the sheep to arrive…” said Stavre.

“Oh, you are so confident there will be a tomorrow!” replied Iana with a surprised tone of voice.

“Yes, there will be a tomorrow for some of us. The fire can’t swallow us all. History says that someone will remain alive to tell our story… to inform the new generations. This is how it has always been. I do not see why now it would be any different…” said Stavre.

Iana Chakalarova kept quiet. She had no strength to continue the conversation.

“Oh, dear life…” muttered Stavre.

There was a big bang. A grenade exploded nearby. The explosions deafened everyone. Stavre was covered in soil. He had his hands over his head. There were pieces of iron mixed with earth flying everywhere around him. The sky became cloudy with aircraft. An army of soldiers appeared at the foot of the mountain; they were running uphill from all sides. Planes were flying over them leaving

devastation and fire behind. There were many stones around Stavre Nakovski. They were on fire. Three metre high flames were rising from them.

“My God, what is this? What is this evil? How is it possible for stones to burn?” mumbled Stavre and looked at Iana.

“Are we the last ones alive? Is this the end of the world?” shouted Iana confused.

Three more successive shells fell into the trenches. The fighters were running everywhere. Vangelios Kotinaris jumped out of his trench and started to wave his machine gun wildly.

“Let’s go, people! Follow me!” he yelled out and ran for higher ground. The fighters who were in and around the trenches followed him. They climbed up to the top of the mountain and descended down the other side. They left everything behind that was going to slow them down. They wanted to leave this hell as soon as possible.

Pondilaki rolled down the slope across the clearing. He stopped rolling at the bottom. He got up, dusted himself off and looked around. He was looking for the dockworkers. He did not see any of them. He followed the other fighters to a large meadow. He had no gun. He went near a fighter with a big moustache and asked:

“Where are we?”

“At Bileshko Pole. This is Albania. We are safe here until we return to Gramos again,” replied the fighter.

“Are we going back again?” asked Pondilaki with a surprised look on his face.

“That’s what the chiefs at Supreme Command ordered,” replied the fighter and went towards the cottage that stood several dozen metres away.

Pondilaki followed the fighter. He was hoping to find the dockworkers. He found Iana inside and went with her. About ten minutes later they all had gathered together.

“Where is Stavre Nakovski?” asked Pondilaki with a worried look on his face.

“I don’t know. Maybe he went to headquarters,” said Iana. “Maybe Stavre is with another group, he said goodbye to everyone and disappeared among the fighters,” she added. Pondilaki and the dockworkers stared at each other wildly but did not know what to do.

“We will wait. They will order us to return to the front for sure,” said Kotinaris and sat down on the grass.

Everyone else also sat down. They were all going to wait.