A RIDGE OF WAVES - Part 03

but my wife was able to preserve all of our correspondences from this sentence, which serves as a record of the hard times we had to endure. After some time, Sokrat Markilov was transferred to the Starogorski prison. Sokrat did not work so the only time we had an opportunity to talk was during our daily walks. When I arrived here I got to know a couple of young men, Angel and Stanimir, both born in the village Gabrene, Petrich Region, located under the summit of Mount Belasitsa, near where the Bulgarian, Greek and Yugoslav borders intersect, where the Bulgarian, Greek and Yugoslav boundaries break up the living body of mother Macedonia. These two seventeen year olds fled to Greece, but Stanimir returned to the village a little later. Angel in the meantime crossed over into Yugoslavia and from there traveled illegally to West Germany, eventually returning to Bulgaria. For fleeing illegally, Stanimir was sentenced to 10 years imprisonment and Angel to 12. People fleeing illegally were never sentenced to more than 5 years imprisonment but these two young men were also charged with “espionage”. Stanimir however had to only serve six and a half years in prison, and Angel only 8 and a half because they were both given a pardon, something that patriotic Macedonians never get. In the fall of 1979 the Chief of State Security for Petrich, Captain Indzhov, decided to pay the Starozagorski prison a visit. At the same time one day I was summoned to Major Nikolov’s office in the political section of the prison. There I ran into Indzhov who greeted me and told me that he wanted to talk to me about my trial that had taken place about six months ago. “Stoian, we need to talk about the other participants in your conspiracy,” he said. “The trial is over, everything that needed to be done is done, Citizen Indzhov,” I replied. “No Stoian, it’s not all done, there are still others who participated in this crime. We know who they are but we just want to confirm some things with you,” he said. “I don’t know any more individuals other than those who were identified at the trial!” I replied. “What about Ruzha the technician, citizen of Yugoslavia? Only you and another person had contacts with her,” he said. “That’s a lie, Citizen Indzhov and you know it. I am not going to be party to this and I will not allow you to manipulate me!” I replied. “Look Stoian, we know what you took from her and that you had discussions with her. We are now waiting for your confession. Besides, if you are honest and tell us everything we can free you from prison immediately. I guarantee you that,” he assured me. “Thank for your generosity Citizen Indzhov but I am prepared to serve my four years in prison,” I replied. “You don’t need to answer right away, go back to your cell and think about it. We will bring you

back here tomorrow morning and we will talk again,” he added, after which I was escorted out of Major Nikolov’s office. After I was taken back to my cell I thought long and hard about the case. I was not thinking about Indzhov’s offer to free me from prison, I was thinking about who could have given the State Security Services information six months later, after we had been tried? Some time ago, before I was arrested, I often met with Ruzha; she was my colleague. We often talked about Macedonia but as far as I know I never offered her membership to join our organization or talked about anything that may be construed as conspiratorial. Only Sokrat knew about my conversations with her. But had he said something about it, even during the investigation, the matter would have been cleared during the trial. But not even a word was said about her during the trial, so it would appear that someone else had informed them about her. But who?! A question that kept me up all night! The next morning I was again taken to Major Nikolov’s office. I again had a conversation with Captain Indzhov but I told him nothing. Unfortunately I was still puzzled as to how they got this information about my conversations with Ruzha. Most importantly, I did not give in to the temptation to accept Indzhov’s offer to be let out of jail early at the expense of someone else. I never wanted to be free at the expense and suffering of others. So I served my second sentence honourably, without complaining, without apathy. I worked and read most of the time and hardly had enough time to even play chess. I never complained, I never thought about home, even though my wife was alone bringing up our children and worrying about where she was going to get the money to pay for fuel to heat our house in the winter, for food, or for whatever. But even if I had thought about it how was I going to help her being locked up in prison? I helped her some with the thirty leva I sent her once a month, money I earned from working. For the work I did they paid me 20% of the regular wage or a maximum of 40 leva per month. While serving my four year sentence in prison I kept in touch with my family through letters and visits. I was freed in early spring 1976. It is interesting to note at this point that each time after my release from prison, I was offered a job to work for the State Security Services. This time it was Colonel Atanas Maznakov who offered me the job, which I categorically rejected. “I did not become a spy when I was nineteen years old!” I said. “Why would I become one now?” And he said: “It is not spying, it is patriotism!” “I am sorry,” I said “you will have to do without my patriotism!” “Okay then, but if someone comes and tells you that there is a Macedonian Organization, you will come and tell us! Right?”

asked Maznakov. “No, I will never do that!” I replied. “Then mark my words, you will be back in jail again!” he said. “That depends on me, now doesn’t it?” I replied. With those words I got up and left for home. We were having this conversation in front of Kosta Kirkov, a high school classmate of mine who was now a Major in the State Security Service in Petrich. After I was released from prison I looked for work in my profession for about two and a half months. Seeing that I was unable to find anything, I asked two of my friends, Doncho and Zhivko Takov to ask Georgi Zahov, the director of “Nestandardna Oprema” in Petrich if he could hire me as a mechanic. He agreed and allowed me to take the necessary exams, which I passed. I worked there for four months until a friend informed me that the company “Iavor” in Petrich was in need of a construction technician. Their technician had been drafted into the army. I agreed. But as per Article 64, when their technician returned, two years later, I would have to vacate the position. Here, under my leadership, we built a prefabricated warehouse, a single monolithic building with a single 200 metre long and 24 metre wide hall, the main part of a future prison. When their technician returned the facility was ready to be covered with a roof. I again was left without work in my profession and for the next eight months I worked as a general labourer. Four months later I got a job as an assembly technician at the “Domostritelen Kombinat” plant in Blagoevgrad, which was responsible for manufacturing panel blocks for the “Polijani” court near the “Biblijana” factory. Soon after I started work there one of my colleagues left and I took over his job as a technical manager. Here I spent five straight years working, the longest time I had ever held one job. After that I got a job as an investment manager at the school of public nutrition in Petrich. Before I went to the Human Dimension Conference in Copenhagen, Denmark, my relationship with Angel Iankulski, the school director where I worked, who by the way was born in the same village as my great-great-grandfather Deli Georgi, was excellent. He always asked me to coffee and was glad to talk to me. But when I returned from Copenhagen, the first thing he did was express dissatisfaction with my involvement in the Macedonian cause. He said: “You either mind your job or you mind Macedonia! Not both!” So after he said that, I submitted my resignation! And since then, since August 1st, 1990 I have only worked for Macedonia!