Noose – Chapter 7

Noose – Chapter 7

Shadow of Hell – Games and death in the nights of Konitsa.

1.

We entered the church. It was a nice building built with carved limestone and ceramic materials. We looked inside and noticed a saint pressed on the cold stone giving off light. It seemed spiritual. Surprised by the glow, we touched it with our fingers and the glowing paint spread around, some of it got stuck on our fingers and it glowed as we moved around. It only lasted for a moment but it was enough time to make us feel at ease, uplifted and happy. The church was packed with fighters and they were all applauding while the music was blaring. I noticed Rula’s hands shaking. Her voice was weak and she looked sad. She was trying to look feminine but her uniform and the revolver on her right hip made her look rough and hid her slender figure. Then I saw her dancing. It was vulgar. Her bouncing up and down with her heavy military boots hitting the floor tiles made her sound and look like an enraged horse, or a soldier who suffered from typhus. Rula swallowed several gulps from her “Metaxa” cognac bottle, opened her mouth and let out a hoarse cry. “Happy New Year! To victory! Hurray! Drink wine to bring us together. Wine is a gift of God… If not to another, then you can repeat your sad life’s story to yourself, which will lead you to salvation or to hell.” Rula then drank a slug of wine and as droplets ran down her lips she said: “Death is not the end of everything…” Rula’s body began to contort as she made movements with her hands trying to reach her loosened, heavy army boots. She then fell and lay down on her back. Her tongue looked swollen as she tried hard to call for us to help her. I felt sorry for her. I remember her words when we were tanning one day and cleaning ourselves from lice. She said: “I am proud of my chest. It stands straight and looks great. I also love long legs. Unfortunately my legs are short and I hate them, especially in these boots. Oh my blood brother, if only I was a bit taller! I think curvy women are beautiful…” I then said: “Nobody is perfect. But you’re a pillar of feminine beauty in our army here in this region of Gramos. Be strong while the war lasts.” She looked calm so I added: “But you are not thinking at all about the revolution?” She roared to tears with laughter. Tears of exhaustion and pain. “Maybe someone poisoned her Cognac?” someone yelled out. The crowd became upset. The fresh air had long gone. In place of fragrant candles, there was gunfire and smoke. It burned from all sides. Instead of prayer and baptism, there was dancing of the “sirtaki” and the “zebekiko”, military style. Everyone’s conscience was dark. The politics were dark. Rula’s body curled up in a semi-circle. Her eyes opened wide. They were completely white. Her lips were stretched out over her teeth, looking as if she wanted to smile but she was in pain, her stomach felt like it was on fire. She looked at the saints as if seeking forgiveness. She wanted relief but she was swept up by panic. Perhaps she did not know what was happening to her and how long this unpleasantness would last. She was afraid, her hands were shaking. She was barely able to speak but managed to say: “I came here to be with you, to cry and rejoice with you, to suffer and love with you…” seemingly wanting validation from all of us. Her lips trembled and she turned her head away. A priest walked up and, in a hoarse voice, said: “Only blasphemers enter God’s house with weapons,” and then proceeded to curse Rula with the following words. “Be damned girl, and may you be without the fruit in life.” He then began to rant: “I don’t know. I have no strength to judge you. What kind of people are you?! Shame on you for your dirty dancing!” Rula wanted to ask for forgiveness. “Oh, how could I, in this Christian church, be so shamelessly blasphemous? Why did I do that, I don’t know?” She was feeling very bad... She crossed herself facing the icon of St. George and her body slid on the floor. There was dead silence in the church and at that very moment, a few bursts of gunfire outside marked the coming of the New Year, 1948.

We all clapped our hands and called out: “Happy New Year! Long live General Markos! Long live Konitsa, our new capital of the Democratic Government of Greece!” Leonidas was the only one who did not clap his hands. He turned towards me and said: “Eh, blood brother, look at Rula. The quality of a person and their humanity cannot be bought with money... my head is clouded by this strange dance we call life… God! Where is this treachery coming from? Create the world from the start and use the souls of yesterday’s dead to restore it. Will we ever have a chance to have a friendly laugh?” He arranged the psalms in front of the great icon of the Virgin Mary and Jesus, looking for an interpretation that covers all the people. How is it possible, he wondered, now, in the 20th century, for people to still persecute each other? How is it that the stronger uproot the weaker from their homes and those with the power of language believe in the interpretation of their own ideology? This is a frightening madness, it muddles a man’s brain! Wars bring misfortune, pain, poverty... “My dear God,” he said, “up to now I have seen: water, forests, mountains, valleys with snow and in them heavy weapons. I have seen houses on fire and lives taken. I have seen columns of people: old people, women, children fleeing from their homes... but I have never seen such blasphemers...” Leonidas turned towards us, looked sternly at us and said: “You do not clap in church. Cruelty, treachery, might and desecration triumphed here tonight. This is how it will be judged. There will be less hope for deliverance. Outside of the merciless killings, we have ruined a spiritual sanctuary. We have killed hope. We have spread hatred. Tonight we watched mad people salivate with boasting and beating their chests. They have faith in whom? In death? In annulment? God is our salvation and only God can save Rula!” God loving Leonidas, pure of faith, could not bear any more injustice and irrational blasphemy in the temple of God, so he boldly stood up in front of Arianos and said: “Do not insult God, Comrade Arianos! I am a servant of Christ, my God and I can no longer be witness to this mess. Your idols are not gods, no they are not! Markos is not a god and someday he will humbly die. God will defend the new from the newborn saviour of the spirit, messiahs and yesterday’s anarchists. What will be your punishment? Christ is the only God. Before me is Jesus. I am looking at him and he is looking at me. He is silently watching me. This is Jesus, the man-God who has no aims, but has a spirit. Why do you rejoice in evil and act lawlessly all day?” Leonidas paused for a moment and resumed talking: “Comrade Commander, we do not need to exist and behave like animals, we are spiritual beings. Why must you think and speak of perilous things? Why must you love evil more than good, injustice more than justice...? How do you and those who commit lawlessness justify it? They and you will one day feel fear where there is no fear. God will break everyone’s bones...” Scorned, Arianos pulled out his pistol and said: “Continue, continue…” And we all, at the top of our voices, yelled out: “Long live General Markos and the Party!” Arianos also shouted the same slogan and then turned to Leonidas and said: “You have a bad attitude towards our bright future, towards the goal of the revolution! You are a danger and a bad influence on all the fighters.” He then gave orders to have him thrown out in the snow and to have a large block of ice placed on his chest so that he would freeze… And then with even greater anger, Arianos said: “Bastard! Go away!” He then turned to us and said: “I order you all not to communicate with him orally or in writing. I order you not to go near him because his wishes are to bring disunity among our revolutionary ranks and destroy our faith and our ideals; for which we are ready to lay down our lives. You must stay away from this schismatic!” Leonidas turned his head towards the icon of “Bogoroditsa” (The Virgin Mary) and said: “Forgive me, Mother, as I have seen nothing.

As I remember nothing. As if all was erased! Now they want to turn me into dust and ashes, to burn everything. Why?” Arianos thought for a moment and gave his own advice: “Don’t let this kind of anti-communist element discourage you from our successes. Every beginning is difficult. Indiscipline, whim and religious intrigue from today on are prohibited. Trust in your own instincts and victory will be ours. We

will feel even worse if we lose the battle, which is uncharacteristic of fighters for communism.” Each one of us felt a sudden mood change which led us to insanity. That night, Leonidas did not know if he preferred the solitude that surrounded him, or whether the loneliness hurt him or freed him. He curled up in a sheltered place with a mixed vision and sadness in his soul but also happy to be alive. He squatted in the dark and thought and prayed for our fate. The crowd in front of the altar began to yell: “The priest does not know how to sing and dance the sirtaki, but we will teach him...” The priest then responded: “God is with us, do not be afraid. Keep our rich Orthodox faith alive. The spirit will hold us on this earth; not ideology. We are a peaceful people. We are here from time immemorial. We will remain here, this is our town.” After Leonidas was thrown out, the priest walked with dignity and with his head proudly held up high. He bent down a bit and, because of the place where he was standing, he could not see the beautiful Rula, so again, enraged by our insolence, he said: “Lord God, save these enraged Partisans of the atheist General Markos who wants to sit on the throne by force.” Embittered by all this, the priest, disappointed by our human inclination to be anti-God, took off his hood and said: “Oh, what a curse! What kind of people are you? The essence of our ancestors is crystallized in this church through generations, for its preservation, for its duration, like human beings, like people and like spirits.” He then bent down and took the icon of Sv. Zlata Meglenska which had fallen down. We all held our breath. He then said: “For us the term icon falls in the theological, aesthetic and ethical category, it is a metaphor for faith, for beauty and for goodness. And now these portraits of your prince and General Markos that you have hung all over, on top of the saints, do they belong in this church? Do they belong in this town? Do they bring peace and tranquility? I just don’t know what people will think after they see this vandalism. They will see your hatred and your revenge and will be disappointed.” Some people in the crowd began to push him, to hit him and to pluck his beard. The next morning he was found dead outside in the cold. Anxiety and anger grew in Rula, her saliva glands were leaching saliva which remained in her mouth because she could not swallow it. She was delirious and everyone laughed at her. She said: “So, I am a fiancée. Faith! A woman should adorn the virtue of faith, fidelity, faithfulness in love and faithfulness in God... This is my house, I was born here... I came here to see my house! And who are you? Who asked you to come here? What do you want?” She then staggered towards Arianos and said: “What time is it?” Arianos angrily showed her his watch and said: “Here, look!” She then said: “Why, can’t you tell time? Like you can’t tell the forest from the

trees? Now it’s time to separate! Now it’s over!...” she then fell to the floor. Spiros was so shocked by the sight that he needed some time to react. He could hear that in her mouth she was mixing prayers with curses while he was trying to arrange a compress on her hot chest. “She is dead,” he then said, after which he dumped the wet cloth on the tile floor. He stood over the dead body, mourning the woman he loved. He mourned her but he could not understand why she did not love him back. A lot of times she said to me: “Blood brother, I don’t want anything, except to die in an embrace of love. Take me home.” Then I would ask: “To whose house?” Rula would then laugh, pick some mountain flowers, look at me slyly without answering and leave the pain of love to flow through her veins like grape juice. When we left the church and went out to the street, I felt the power of silence and everyone wanted to grab a lump of snow, but at that very moment a hand grenade exploded with a loud blast. The snowflakes disappeared from the windows and we heard screams and people wailing in pain. Our eyes could not see (we were all blind), our lips could not speak (we were all dumb), our ears could not hear (we were all deaf), only the human heart could describe the suffering. The cries of a child could be heard passing through the frost, through the snowflakes, through the explosions. The question on everyone’s mind was: “Is it possible? Just now, just as we entered the New Year…?” We could see the tragedy of interrupted love when we saw a child whimpering beside his dead mother’s body and this night was supposed to be a time of joy. Suddenly a feeling of guilt, like rust, began to erode my last hope. I had a strong longing for home. My heart and brain made me think of my family. I wanted to enjoy life and be happy in a family setting. I remembered the words of our mothers when they were protesting and refusing to send us to war. I remember them yelling: “Return our sons, we need them to harvest the crops! It is not their time to be sent to their death! We have not finished planting our seeds in the soil! Our freshly baked bread still has its delicious aroma. The fruits of our labour still have taste...” Before I had finished my thought, I heard Andonis groaning, and beside him I heard a swishing sound of a passing bullet. He was rolling in the snow looking like a Tibetan dumb ox infected by madness. Frightened I asked: “Are you hit?” “No!” he said. There was a strange ring of a church bell. It was occurring together with a strong underground explosion coming through the narrow streets. I said to him: “Get yourself together man and come here and pray. There is no one here from the political commissars to see you.” He then asked: “What happened to Leonidas? How many of us are left?” I said: “I don’t know. Only Kostas is here…”

Andonis kept quiet, he looked like a shadow in the dark and again knelt in the snow and began to roll like a dumb ox. “Why are you doing that?” I asked him. “I guess I can tell you,” he said. “They stepped on a mine. It was a frightening explosion. There was nothing left of Theoharis and of Stase Rimpapov. Suddenly I remembered that you could shoot me if I suddenly snuck up on you and you did not know it was me. When I stood up in front of a window they shot at me with a strong burst of gunfire, but only the hem of my coat was hit and I was okay. I then fell into a pile of dirt and got really dirty, I gasped and breathed the fresh air deeply. I was completely alone. I lay on my back and stayed there for a long time. Maybe they thought I was dead. I will not abandon you again.” I could hear that he was calm and comforted by his closeness to me. “God save you,” I said to him. And he said: “You are naïve.” “Why?” I asked. “Because,” he said, “no matter how much we try to get away from this mad night God will have his revenge on us.” I asked him again: “Why?” “Because,” he said, “we have disturbed the tranquillity of these people in this city. Because we are selfish and want to turn this city into our capital and make it a throne for our General Markos and for all those other crafty people.” I then said: “May God be with you.” “Why just bless me?” he asked. “Because tonight I don’t know if we are angels or devils. Tell me what do you think? Will anyone find any of our dead or will they remain lost and forgotten forever? Or perhaps no one will be interested in looking for them. Do you think General Markos will be interested in finding them? Or will he just want to sit on his throne and watch through his binoculars and wait to be invited by our commander, to host a ceremony...” He then asked me: “Will we fight again?” And I said: “Andonis my blood brother, I believe that after this major city is declared the capital of our military and government, if General Markos sits on the throne, the world will never be the same.” Andonis said: “If we are willing to die for anyone who wants to sit on a throne, then there will be no one left alive...” He was not entirely convinced about what he said but he did not know how else to counter my statement. Even today we ask ourselves what was the supposed meaning of the statement “the golden throne of General Markos.” We found underground tunnels in the basements of some of the homes connecting houses together. Those who built the tunnels must have had a lot of trouble because the tunnels were very narrow, barely enough for a single person to pass, but this shows that the people loved their city. When the people found out, from the December 23rd declaration, that the Partisans were going to turn their city into a Partisan capital, they worked even harder, day and night, to build more trenches and fight to the death if necessary, refusing to relinquish it. When we found half-eaten chocolate bars with children’s teeth marks on them, inside the houses, we knew that people were truly fleeing from us Partisans… We found toys scattered all over the place, used diapers, half-empty plates of food, milk... We were searching for hours, sticking to the wall, observing. It seemed like we were obsessed and paranoid about the creation of a capital for our leadership and for the world to recognize it. But the people were gone. The witching hour was almost over, dawn was nearing. We were ready to welcome daylight? Fear exuded creepiness... in other words fear accompanied no expectation... of the ones remaining alive to occupy the throne with General Markos. Commander Arianos wanted that the most. He was even decked out with his newest military uniform. Standing next to me was my friend Kalivas Kostas who, from time to time, would confess to me that he wanted to use his weapon to exact revenge. He wanted to kill hundreds of people. Winter, ice and despair lived in that man’s chest. His soul was darkened. Jovan Kotev, one of our fallen fighters killed by a land mine explosion, was his closest friend.

“My faith says Thou Shall Not Kill!” said Kostas, which should apply to everyone. Kostas continued: “Many people say that, but it’s not like that, one wrong move and they will kill you.” A woman’s voice was heard speaking in protest: “Why are you shooting then?” she asked. Her husband then answered: “I want to kill them because they have come here to take our city, our homes and to enslave us.” Andonis whispered to me: “Did you hear that?” “Yes.” I said. Andonis then loudly explained to them: “You should not use violence over your opponents. Your opponents need to be made aware of their mistake with patience and compassion... the woman is right and understands. She does not want to use violence; she wants to love her children and her home.” Andonis was so thunderstruck by the spectacle that he needed time to react. He continued: “We will certainly not be in history, only those with whom we are together in this heap will remember us... they certainly will say that we were petty men, marginalized, criminals, murderers...” Another woman’s voice was heard asking: “Why did the world’s evil have to come here, to our city?” A third voice, a man’s voice was then heard saying: “Why did God have to create good and evil?” In the meantime we all stood there motionless, keeping quiet. We had a good view of the entire street and at one point we saw our fighters leading a disarmed civilian and kicking him as they moved along. Arianos, enraged, pulled out his revolver and aimed it straight at the prisoner’s temple. Flustered, the prisoner said: “Please, if you have a heart in your chest, don’t kill me.” At the same time Kostas said: “I lost my friend and now his killer stands before my eyes. You damned man; I will not be satisfied until I take revenge.” Arianos then asked the prisoner: “Why were you shooting at our democratic army, you gangster? Do you know how many of our fighters you have killed?” The prisoner then said: “I am not a criminal if I defend my fellow citizens. I am not a gangster if I defend myself and if I defend my home, my children, my elderly father and mother and my friends. It is not a crime if I must defend myself in that way where I have to shoot at you and kill you. How would you, gentlemen democrats, have reacted if you had found yourselves in a similar situation?” The prisoner looked at each one of us and asked: “Who is the bully here?” At that moment Arianos shot him in the temple and pushed him off the road with his boot. Strong detonations and bursts of gunfire continued to be heard throughout the city. There were now volleys of cannon fire coming from positions outside of the city. The place smelled of gunpowder and there were heaps of shells everywhere; we were all afraid of snipers. The outflow of madness was wearing us out. We managed to survive until morning but we were all nauseated and full of dread. Every day, day and night we were killing and burying young fighters. We were burying the hope of our future. We who were still alive mourned our fate. A big blurred line emerged on the horizon before us, like evaporating dust, blood and fire, seeming like it was a living hell and depressing murderous mud. From time to time, horrified and frantic, people appeared at their balconies, windows and sidewalks reading the graffiti: “LONG LIVE THE COMMUNIST PARTY OF GREECE! LONG LIVE GENERAL MARKOS! LONG LIVE KONITSA OUR CAPITAL!”

2.

I heard Spiro’s voice say: “If you move I will kill you!” Our enemy was not very knowledgeable in military science, so Spiros without fear approached him, grabbed the handgun by the barrel and tried to pull it out his shriveled fingers. The old man held the gun tightly against the handle but Spiros overpowered him. As the old man let go, he angrily mumbled some unintelligible words. The old man’s pupils were dilated. He was slightly bearded, unshaven, his hair was white and his face was sunken in. He looked exhausted in his fur overcoat, which stunk of sour sweat and olive oil. “Comrade Commissar!” the old man said, “I have no bad intentions towards you Partisans.” The younger man who accompanied the old man kept opening and closing his mouth without making a sound. By the look of the white, or in this case, the red of his eyes, Leonidas figured the man was frozen with fear. Leonidas took out his water bottle and offered him a drink of water. The man replied: “Ευχαριστο χριστιανε” (thank you Christian) and raised his hand as if to bless him. Leonidas, looking at the man’s clothes figured he was a priest. The two men were the priest and sexton of the “Holy Mother” church. The priest then said: “I am a Priest of the Holy Virgin and her joyful servant. My holy soul is in Christ’s hands.” He then opened the Holy Gospel and began to bless us. Now a bit encouraged he said: “You are good people with pure souls, but we were told that you are killers and murderers working against our religion and against priests.” The conversation ceased, the laughter disappeared and we found ourselves in a place where death with passion was contrary to man’s interests. We crawled and waited. We read warnings: “Do not trample on the gate, do not seize, do not touch...” All kinds of disturbing warnings! Then suddenly a reflection of light appeared in front of us, targeting us by large reflectors. It’s a real wonder that we managed to stay alive.

3.

The next night was the coldest. The temperature was minus 20 degrees, maybe colder. After one of my friends showed us a red partisan flag flying on Monday during the night, we became confident enough to enter deeper into the city Konitsa, which we confidently considered to be our future capital. So we went from yard to yard, entering through the narrow metal gates positioned between the great walls made of stone or brick. In front of us there were beautiful new homes. In them we found weapons and discarded uniforms belonging to wounded enemy soldiers. We also found the area to be mined with unexploded mines and bombs, which we set aside and marked the places “dangerous” to warn those coming behind us. We felt like we were in a large cage and were expecting that at any moment something terrible was going to happen. We found ourselves under a large eave of a roof. If we waited too long we were sure that we would be shot at... All around us the area was full of mines and we needed to be very careful when taking a step. We were tired and restless, we could tell from the way we tried to take steps. We tried to concentrate but fear had made us desperate and exhausted. We had no idea what to expect next. Arianos was overcome by feelings of hopelessness. We wandered around for hours not knowing what was going to happen. Sometimes he scolded us, telling us: “Stop feeling sorry for yourselves and snap out of it”. And with a little bit of cunning, he was able to lift our morale and fighting spirit. We were true patriots because we had the ability to rise to the occasion and set aside our personal feelings. Someone else decided to offer their advice and impatiently spoke up saying: “Give up this ‘I want!’ ‘I want!’ and focus on the job. We are fighters of the legendery General Markos and we need to show a sense of independence from body and spirit. We need to think only of victory. Tomorrow, we, the glorious and invincible army, will march around the square...” Andonis was quick to respond and whisper to me: “Look at Arianos, he walks like a peacock and asks of us not to be selfish. How can he even think that we are selfish after all that we have been through; the hunger, the exposure to the cold. And on top of that he does not want us to talk to one another. Oh my blood brother, - sorry Ognian my mate, this night will bring nightmares to all the people in all the peaceful towns. And we, in these crusty clothes, packed together in these ditches, now have to listen to Arianos’s bitter remark, without tact, say: ‘After his first kill, every person – soldier will get a great rush of relaxation’.” Leonidas then said: “For as long as cherished and good will hopes continue to perish in this shameful and dishonest decade, which brought us one of the most horrible wars - World War II, people like Arianos will continue to tell their stories. Even children know to be afraid of wars because it robs them of their goodness and happiness… What we are doing here is committing high treason, but for us these are days of our last hope. But we must acknowledge that, as long as incoherent voices scream at night, people are trampled on and violated. When you hear gunfire, bodies are falling and we should be able to figure out that ‘there will be no capital for us in this city’ because the people are not happy with us and will not let us have their city. The people don’t like us and are not proud of us. They don’t see us as their liberators... Now, at this time, it is not wise to fight! This is not the time to apply the rule ‘use force as a necessary prerequisite to gain value’. The use of what we see as ‘necessary force’ will cause us many difficulties and most unnecessary horror, whose trap will swallow us all and death will be worthless as we mindlessly seek it.” Leonidas paused for a moment and continued: “If we don’t come to our senses soon, a little later, after this spree of madness is over, they will be placing thousands of wreaths of flowers on the graves of those who died futile deaths.

You see patriots, professionals like Arianos, when all is well, yell and give us orders, ‘forward!’ These so-called patriots use patriotism as a means to survive and last through these tough times. They even boast that they are willing to die to the last one for the fatherland. Indeed, where have you seen a country without liars? Some smart people like Gandhi, for example, consider patriotism to be humane. But philanthropy does not call for killings. But these people with their own brand of humanity do call for killings; they are self-centred. May God help them!” “Eh, blood brother?” I said. “What do you think of our leaders; don’t they seem like self-centred people disguised as great patriots?” He said: “No, they say they are communists! Stupid Arianos, even if he climbed on Mount Olympus he will still be stupid. Here stupidity reigns higher than reason. But the worst of it is that our stupid Major, even under these conditions, is attempting to convince us that he is not stupid. Where is our conscience, why haven’t we all yelled out: ‘Hey, you generals? Stop the madness!!!’”

4. 53 It is peaceful today. Finally we can breathe with some ease. It wasn’t like this Monday and Tuesday. We had been waiting for a long time for a nice day like this. It was peaceful like this throughout the entire front line, all night last night, but we were on constant alert. Before opening our cans of cold meat this morning, our Major Arianos informed us that later this morning the opposition government forces would capitulate and Konitsa would be proclaimed our capital. I was certain that this was going to happen because we belonged to Markos’s mighty army. Our will was strong and we were not only capable of making Konitsa our capital but we could move mountains if we wanted to. I had faith in our abilities. “Today was a perfect day, the day when our strategy came to the fore,” we were told by Commander Arianos who believed everything that he was told by the top political leadership and by the political commissars. But our political commissars were buying souls, minds and dreams in this war. They patted us on the back and by doing so confirmed that we belonged to them. We, on the other hand, were flattered but unsure if we should be getting into a conversation because we were unsure if we needed to be more cosmopolitan or patriotic. The risks were high. The silence in front of them was golden. The tales of enemies and friends would soon turn into reality, even though we all knew that good and evil stood side by side. But they were opposite, evil could never become good. Good and evil were two different faces in the world, in life, in intentions, in behaviour and with that the political commissars were able to manipulate us. But the people knew, as my grandfather used to say: “Beauty and goodness go hand in hand. A good person is nice to the people. Whoever chooses evil is ugly and does not like the people.”