BROTHERHOOD UNITY - Part 10

Vicho region was their last hope. For the defenders it was their last hope of defense. For the attackers it was their last hope for victory. Both sides believed in their hopes. Both sides were fighting for freedom but here in the Macedonian mountains Bela Voda, Lundser and Bigla, Kulkuturia, Plati, Kresto, Glavata, Polenata, Roto, Baro, Iamata, Mali-Madi, Golinata, Chuka, Moro and Lisets they were fighting for their own freedom. At 05.00 hours in the summer on August 10th, 1949, fighter aircraft launched their attacks on Mount Polenata, elevation 1,685. At 05.30 hours the artillery opened fire, lasting half an hour. This was the centre of defense. Military aircraft flew in waves of three and with bombs and rockets attacked the bunkers. Hell opened up and broke loose out of the earth on top of Bigla and Lundser, Polenata and Roto, Baro and Mali-Madi. At five o’clock in the morning seventy aircraft flew out of Government bases in Lerin, Rupishta and Kozheni and attacked DAG (Democratic Army of Greece) positions. Half an hour later one hundred and forty cannons and equally as many heavy guns and mine throwers began their attacks on the trenches and bunkers. The thick smoke was still hanging low when 8 divisions, more independent battalions, tanks and military vehicles launched their attack. At 06.00 hours, assisted by tanks, 22 Government military divisions attacked Polenata, elevation 1,685, but the attack was unsuccessful. They were facing strong resistance. Aerial and artillery attacks continued until 13.00 hours. A second wave of infantry attacks were launched on Polenata at 13.00 hours. Resistance at Polenata died out at 18.30 hours along with everyone who resisted. No one from the resistance side came out alive. The central front was broken. In the meantime the villages Turie and Gorno Statitsa had fallen into the hands of Government Division XI from where Government troops launched their uphill attacks along the bare patches of the mountains in the direction of Lisets and Moro. Government troops jumped and stepped over the dead bodies of their own soldiers as they ran uphill. Three hundred meters before reaching the bunkers the attack died out. Government forces stopped their advance and began to dig themselves into the ground. They lay flat on their stomachs and dug with their shovels to hide their heads. They were being fired on from above with long machine gun bursts. The ones who came closest to the bunkers and trenches were cut down by the long bursts of machine gun and automatic rifle fire and by hand grenades. The elite Government forces maintained their attack all night long. The same day, before nightfall, at 18.30 hours, in the direction of the village Drenoveni, Government Mountain Division III began a vicious attack on the well-established DAG position on Baro Hill with aims of penetrating Lisets. At 08.00 hours, after the place was bombed and pounded by artillery for an hour, and after heavy, hand to hand fighting, Baro Hill fell. Then at 12.45 hours Dapche Hill also fell into enemy hands. There was a sickly, stretched out pleading sound heard coming from the rubble of a destroyed bunker. A sharp cry of pain, despair and horror filled the air. “Is there anyone alive?!” a muffled voice called out from beneath the soil. It was a pleading, hoarse, burned out and broken down from pain voice, lost to the deafening whistle, roar, thunder and growl of exploding cannon shells. “Is there anyone alive?!” the same voice called out again. Numo lifted his head for a moment and instantly felt a burning sharp pain. He froze. He only heard the sound “alive”. He opened his eyes but he could only see what looked like fog, after that everything went black. He moved his hands around but felt very weak. His ears were ringing but he could hear loud thundering, growling, blasting, swishing, howling, screaming, sharp roars and reverberations in the air… He tried to take a step forward but instantly fell down and his face hit the burning soil mixed with congealed blood.

A strong sharp smell of gunpowder, burned clothes and burning human flesh hit his nose… It felt like his forehead was frozen and his legs were numb. He suddenly thought that he was a little boy and it seemed to him that someone was calling him by his name… He tried to raise his head and at that moment, one after another, like water in a level meadow, his life’s memories began to flow before him… he was amazed by how rapidly the images were changing, how his life was unraveling like a long and thick braid of hair, like threaded pearls falling from a broken golden string and rolling down a long and steep hill… The hill, dug up by aerial bombs, cannon shells and mortars, was now silent. The tips of the trees were trimmed. There were broken tree branches and most tree trunks were left naked. There was a downed tree burning. A split tree stump smoldered in the burning coals. A red flame was nearing a couple of dead bodies. The wind blew and the flame came alive, shimmering gently. People and trees burned together and filled the air with a strong, irritating, suffocating stench of death. “Is there anyone alive?!” a quieter and weaker voice called out. From the place where the dying breath was heard, a black, thick, strong and bitter smoke was spinning out and whirling, reeling and folding making large circles and irritating eyes and throats. A hugging heat wave had blanketed the area. The air was hot, heavy and stuffy. There were mixed smells of burning flesh, gunpowder and decay… Government Units that left from Kulkuturia, after heavy and bloody fighting, took Moro Hill at 18.00 hours on August 11th and without delay left for hill 1,554, located on the footstep of Lisets, elevation 1,827. However they were unable to breach its defenses. At the same time the 35th Brigade of Division X, during the night of August 10-11 at 02.00 hours, advanced to within 500 meters of DAG positions at Roto Hill and stopped. It resumed its advance after the artillery pounded DAG positions for half an hour. A vicious battle ensued which forced the brigade to dig itself deep, about 150 meters from DAG positions. At that point the artillery resumed its pounding for another half hour. Then, at 03.00 hours, Government troops renewed their attack and on August 11, at 13.30 hours they took Roto Hill. Quietly, barely audible, a transmission was made: “We are surrounded!” “Break through!” came the reply. They left their trenches and bunkers in darkness but by the time they completed their reconnaissance it was almost dawn. The sky was turning pale over the hills. Before the sun was up military aircraft began to fly over Bigla, Lundzer, Iorgova Glava, Chuka and Moro. They were dropping fire and as soon as they flew away the cannons began to thunder. They could not leave in daylight so they spent the day there, hiding in the bush inside the oak forest. They sat there silent, quietly sharpening their bayonets and daggers all day until darkness came. Then during the night the order to “break through” was quietly given. All night long, the base of Mount Baro was overrun by DAG units pulling out from Plati, Krstot, Glavata, Roto and Polenata. They followed the flow of the River Belitsa, fighting their way to reach Breznitsa. Urgently they rushed to cross the gorge separating Mali-Madi and Iamata on the road to Breznitsa. Salvation waited there for them… Resistance at Chuka was destroyed. No one counted how many were left alive. The wounded were either slaughtered by knife or shot dead by a bullet to the head. Moro was still defended. The battles forced DAG’s General Headquarters to flee along the shallow trenches dug over the village Vineni. Here it was away from the loud aircraft and from the thundering bomb explosions. Piles of soil thrown into the air and clouds of dust could be seen only through binoculars. Lisets had fallen. General Headquarters, in a written statement, ordered the Commanders of DAG Division XI to abandon Lisets. It was estimated that the enemy would overpower the entire sector by the morning of August 12th.

A new order was then quickly issued, “Do not abandon Lisets until new orders are issued.” The 102nd Brigade, formed some time ago, mainly from older and crippled men, was left to defend Lisets. Only now did DAG Command finally understand the significance of Lisets. It now understood that Lisets was the key to the entire front and, in spite of the strong resistance offered, Government forces still focused their main attacks there. DAG Command with its strong defenses in Vicho, leading the battles from its capital in Vineni on the other side of Lake Prespa, only now understood the strategic significance of the bare Mount Lisets peak. ‘He who holds Lisets has control of all the surrounding hills and most importantly, he controls the highway to Preval and the road to Prespa.’ “Officer’s school to assist!” a command was issued. They set off in silence, then at the approach to Lisets they covered themselves with beechwood leaves and proceeded. “Marksmen forward!” another command was issued. They bowed and after taking several long steps they came closer to the Lisets access. Long bursts of machine gun and automatic rifle fire was heard being fired from the hills above. Kiro was able to ascertain that Iamata, Baro and Roto had not yet fallen and were still defended but in the absence of much gunfire he also ascertained that the defenses were weakening. Polenata was fiercely defended. The surrounding hills were on fire. There were sudden bursts of gunfire and hand grenade explosions. Kiro, as if being cut down by gunfire, dropped down under the trunk of a beechwood tree. There were only about one hundred meters of bare treeless space between here and the slopes of Lisets. “Kiro!” a quiet and frightened voice was heard calling. “What is it?” responded Kiro. “The Commander…” replied the voice. “The Commander what?” responded Kiro. “The Commander is dead…” replied the voice. “You are lying!” Kiro said in disbelief. “Where is he?” “Here, he is lying under the beechwood tree,” said the voice. Kiro crawled his way to the dead Commander. He felt his throat and found it to be tight. He looked around. The officers were crawling, making their way closer to the enemy away from the machine gun fire. There was a strong and vicious fire fight in the dark. Kiro stood up behind the thick trunk of the beechwood tree. He surmised that the enemy was not dug in. He heard branches breaking beside him. It was sub-Lieutenant Kostas, a young man from the Thessalean villages. Kiro leaned over and said: “Run over to the fourth line and tell the Commander to attack the left wing. Quickly!” They crawled another hundred meters forward with restrained breathing and eyes fixed ahead. A white rocket was fired into the sky. Everything became illuminated. They lowered their heads into the burned grass. The rocket went out. Automatic rifle fire was heard coming from the left wing. Two machine guns were heard going off. Kiro deduced that that was the fourth line firing. Voices were heard speaking and swearing about fifty meters ahead. Kiro gathered that these were the voices of enemy officers directing the battles on the hills above. Dawn was fast approaching so Kiro crawled to within 20 meters, stood up and at the top of his voice shouted: “Charge! Bayonets!” “Bayonets!” “Bayonets!” The order was also heard coming from above: “Forward! Bayonets!” Kiro failed to pull out his sharp Finnish bayonet on time before his opponent, a LOK Government officer with the mountain Special Forces, pulled out his hand gun and fired at him. Kiro dropped to the ground on his stomach just as he saw the flash of the gun go off. He felt the bullet whistle past his head. While Kiro was down, the LOK officer jumped on top of him and began to choke him from behind with both hands. Kiro twisted his way and managed to get to his side and with his left hand, grabbed the officer by the groin and squeezed tightly. He felt the officer’s hands slowly releasing. Abruptly Kiro kneed the officer between the legs.

Then with his right hand he grabbed the officer’s face and with his left squeezed the groin even harder, like a vice grip. Still being squeezed on the neck, Kiro, with all the strength he could muster, butted the officer with his head, once, twice, three times until the officer let go of his neck. Upon releasing Kiro’s neck, the officer reached for his knife. At that point Kiro, with his left foot, kicked the knife out of the officer’s hand. Kiro then grabbed the officer by the hair, pulled him to his side and, with his left fist, punched him a couple of times in the ear. Half sitting, Kiro grabbed his knife and jammed it into the officer’s chest. At the same moment he heard the sound “aaah!” behind him. He turned, looked and saw two LOK officers stabbing Kostas with their bayonets. Kiro pulled out his knife and with a strong swift swing, threw it at one of the officers. Kiro was the best knife thrower in the Officer’s School. The LOK officer, recipient of the knife, who at the time was leaning over Kostas, suddenly stood up but his legs could not hold him and, as if kneeling to pray, he fell down in front of Kostas. The other LOK officer turned abruptly and faced Kiro. Furious Kiro charged him and punched him between the eyes several times until he was down on the ground. At that point Kiro tried to give him a swift kick but the officer suddenly moved and rolled away. Half bent over, Kiro saw a flash. It was the officer’s bayonet reflecting the rising sun. Kiro suddenly jumped out of the way as the officer swung the big knife at his head. Kiro then kicked the officer’s hand, dislodging the knife from it. Then in the same instant, Kiro punched the officer in the face, over and over again until he fell to the ground. Kiro quickly retrieved his own bayonet and, in the manner in which he had been taught in school, he slipped the blade under the officer’s main bone and held him tight with all his might. It felt as if he was crushing the officer’s ribs but Kiro used all his strength to hold his opponent until he was no longer moving. Then the moment he put him down he saw the horror and pain in the dead officer’s eyes. When he regained his composure Kiro noticed that the shooting had died down. The battle was subsiding. He looked up at the hill. He saw the Commander of the fourth line approaching slowly with a heavy and tired pace. They both had bruised faces and blood-stained uniforms. They sat next to each other. “Did we take Lisets?” asked Kiro, spitting to the side. “Of course we did. Let’s go up there… I am sure they will regroup and attack us again. Get up!” replied the Commander. At this very hill, near the bunkers and trenches barely fifteen meters away from them there were dead bodies. There was the stench of clotted blood and gunpowder. Wounded were moaning everywhere and calling for help. The sun had risen and was climbing high in the sky. Kiro shaded the sun from his eyes with his hand and looked down towards Iamata, Roto, Baro and Polenata. They were all covered with smoke. He looked to the south towards Mali-Madi and saw fire and flames everywhere. The airplanes were circling like vultures over carrion. They were firing machine gun bursts, rockets and dropping bombs. They would drop their bombs and fly away and others would come to take their place. While standing in front of a bunker, Kiro heard a hoarse voice. It was Pavle, one of his neighbours from his village. “The young man may not have been very strong but he sure was tough. The poor guy had no idea who he was dealing with,” interrupted Pavle, showing the others his hands, looking like shovels. “I hit him between the legs with my knee. He saw stars. Well, I thought,” Pavle boasted, “hitting the young man below the belt was not allowed. But to whom was he going to complain? I turned him around and leaned him forward, that’s when the little son of a bitch pulled out his bayonet. I quickly took out my dagger and we began to dance around. I kept my eye on him and he never took his off me.

Then he made a few strange moves so I jumped back. And then, the little devil quickly lowered himself to the ground and threw a handful of soil in my eyes. I couldn’t see. Then suddenly I felt my arm go numb.” Pavle was interrupted by the paramedic. “Oh, oh, oh, don’t you understand, it hurts? Don’t push so hard!” complained Pavle. “Take it easy, take it easy, I am almost done,” said the paramedic. “You bleed like a slaughtered ox. Where is all that blood coming from? Your wound keeps bleeding and bleeding…” “Let it bleed, let the bad blood flow out,” added Pavle resuming his story. “And I am telling you the bastard stuck his bayonet in my arm. I got mad and grabbed him and broke his neck. Do you want to see him?” added Pavle. “Let’s go,” someone ordered. They left the bunker and went about ten meters downhill. A young soldier, about 20 years old, was lying dead on the trampled grass. There was a huge bruise under his right eye. Pavle bent down and, with his good hand, unbuttoned the soldier’s shirt pocket. He took out a number of photographs and an envelope. In one of the photographs was a forty year old woman wearing a black head kerchief with a tiny hidden smile on her face. “This must be his mother,” said Pavle. “My mother is like that too. Sad and always worrying…” Pavle sat down and opened the envelope. “Look, it’s a letter. Good handwriting too. Here, read it. You can read Greek, right?” Pavle asked the person standing next to him. “Hm… ‘Dear mother…’ So, he is writing to his mother. ‘Today after sunset we went off to battle. The Brigade Commander told us that we would be done in three days and that would be the end of this godforsaken war. He also told us that those of us, who prove ourselves courageous, will receive a one week vacation. I very much want to be one of those getting vacation. I long for the day when I can see you. I know that you are waiting for me and that you pray for me to the icon of the Virgin Mary. Today is a good summer day. In the village where our brigade is stationed there are many pear and apple orchards. The branches are loaded with fruit and bent from the weight. When I look at them, they remind me of our lemon and orange orchards. You wrote me and told me that this year they were very productive. Let God grant that this be the last letter I write to you from this hell. Be patient my dear mother, I will be with you in your arms in a little while. I need to go now, because the Sergeant is ordering us to prepare for the next attack…’” Kiro, who for a while stood beside the others, quietly said: “Keep reading, why have you stopped?” “There is no more to read… Here is the end,” said the man as he pointed to the bottom of the letter with his eyes. During the day and until midnight, the position defended by the DAG Officer’s School was attacked nine times but the officers failed to repel the tenth attack. They were ordered to withdraw. They gathered at the foot of Lisets, on the western side of the slope and brought with them their wounded. The field medics took over and carried the wounded to the highway where trucks, with their engines running, waited for them. Just as they were about to evacuate, a courier arrived with a message from Command Headquarters. They were ordered to go back and counter attack the enemy. Without hesitation they returned immediately, taking long steps, reducing the distance between themselves and the enemy with every step. The enemy fired bullets at them with both short and long machine gun bursts but they pressed on with only their heads bowed to avoid being hit. Thirsty, hungry, sleepy, they moved on ahead jumping over obstacles. Then, as they neared the enemy an order was given and quietly passed on from mouth to mouth: “Prepare your bayonet!” They crawled flat on their stomachs when they reached open space. Then in a loud, piercing voice, the order to “Charge!” was given. They ran towards the first bunkers on the double. Quickly all machine gun and rifle fire died out.

There was only cursing, yelling, heavy breathing, hitting, crying, sobbing and threatening now. The knives were out swinging and cutting. Flame and smoke bellowed from every crack. There was an unbearable stench of blood in the air. Dead bodies were everywhere… Cut off hands, cut throats, pierced chests, pain, blood, bayonet on bayonet, knife on knife, gun barrel on gun barrel, fire, knife, swearing, pleading, lightning, blood, blood, blood, darkness, darkness… The opponent could not endure. This time Lisets, for the eleventh time, was passed on from hand to hand. Dawn was breaking. High up in the sky there were pink clouds. Thunder was heard coming from the direction of Zherbeni where the enemy 6th Artillery Battalion was stationed. Like hail, mortars and cannon shells were hitting Lisets. Kiro stuck his head in the corner of the bunker and faded away motionless like he did not exist. After twenty minutes of pounding, the opponent regrouped and went on the attack again. Kiro raised his head and looked through the gun hole. Hiding behind the shrubs and rocks, like in an exercise, he could see soldiers coming closer. Kiro prepared his machine gun. “Do not fire until the order is given,” said the Commander and ordered Kiro to go across to the next bunker and take over the heavy machine gun. “They are coming!” a quiet voice was heard saying. The Government troops were approaching bowed low and taking short leaps. Heavy mortar fire was heard coming from Chuka Hill from where they were bombarding Lisets… Roar of cannons, echoes of machine gun fire and explosions of mortar shells were heard coming from Bigla. Low flying aircraft swooped down on Polenata, Baro and Iamata. Kulkuturia and Golinata were silent. The resistance there had died out. The shelling lasted ten minutes and after the last mortar had exploded the order to “charge” was given. “Open fire,” the Commander yelled out loudly, in a piercing voice and its echo was lost in the bursts of machine gun fire. There was continuous and fierce fire from both sides. There were volleys of machine gun fire on both sides of Kiro’s bunker. There was smoke and the stench of strong scented gunpowder coming through the gun hole. A little further from the bunker a long and ripping squeal was heard. A man was heavily wounded and was bleeding profusely. Kiro’s legs became weak. Hand grenades exploded in front of his bunker. He came out of the bunker and, one by one he threw two hand grenades. The soldiers hiding in the bushes suddenly went quiet in their helmets. He jumped over the wounded man, took two hand grenades from a dead soldier’s belt and, lying in the trench, without looking, he threw them. He knew the enemy was only ten meters away. To the left of him, in a loud voice the Commander yelled out: “The machine gun! The machine gun! The machine gun! Get the machine gun! Do it!” Kiro returned to the bunker in a hurry, and turning the barrel to the left and to the right sprayed the area with long bursts of machine gun fire. A nurse (woman carrying the wounded) brought a wounded person into the bunker. He was panting and a pool of blood was flowing from his mouth onto his hands. “Charge with hand grenades!” yelled the Commander. The Government soldiers were running downhill. They were being hounded by hand grenades, shorts bursts of machine gun fire and by the screams of the wounded. The Commander ordered everyone to withdraw to the second line of defense. The three nurses gathered all the wounded. They left the dead where they lay. Hoards of flies were gathering over the congealed blood. The enemy artillery began shelling the bunkers at the first line of defense. There was a short pause. The fighters dashed to the second line of defense but before they could reach it, the enemy artillery began to shell the area. The opponent, with new and more troops resumed the attack in waves. Kiro left his heavy machine gun and began to fire with an automatic rifle belonging to a dead gunner. After firing his first burst he changed positions.

He lay down behind the tall rock waiting for the helmets to arrive. Automatic rifles crackled behind his back. He turned, looked and yelled out: “Leave them, let them get closer!” He pulled out two hand grenades from his belt and placed them in front of him. Bullets hit the stone behind which he was hiding. There was a strong grenade explosion. Bits of rock pierced his face. The gunfire went dead. “Hey, you down there! Are you alive?!” Kiro yelled out. There was no answer. Twenty meters away from his position more helmets appeared. Soldiers with sleeves rolled up, wearing short pants were coming closer; they were yelling, swearing and threatening. Kiro threw a hand grenade at them and, at the moment that he was about to throw the second one, a black cloud burst in front of him, covering him in hot air, causing his ears to ring like a hundred bells. He did not hear any gunshots, just voices swearing. He felt something burning him, he tried to stand up, but the darkness became denser. He felt strong blows of rifle butts and his ribs breaking. He realized what was happening. He extended his hand to the side. He opened his eyes for a moment. He felt something warm and salty in his mouth. With his last ounce of strength he reached for his handgun. He felt new blows on his body and heard a short burst of gunfire. His arm felt hot and it slowly became numb up to the shoulder. He could see stars before his eyes. He could not feel his legs and one arm. There was now only darkness and red before his eyes. He went silent… The promised reinforcements never arrived. Lisets fell at noon. Kiro, crushed and full of holes, was left to lie dead behind the stone... Thunderous and fateful sounds covered the villages on the other side of Lisets. People piled, filling all the empty spaces along the highway, to the left and to the right. “The front has been breached! The front has been breached!” voices called out, bringing fear and spreading it among the people. The horror grew. People were frightened and panic filled the air. It was time to flee, to run away. Messengers on horseback were running around everywhere warning people, telling them to leave, showing them which way to take and where to go. Irritated, they spurred their horses to run through the village streets while they yelled: “Leave! Leave! The Greek army is coming! Leave now!” With the pounding of horse hooves, for as long as the warnings lasted, like echoes repeating again and again, was the message: “Leave! Leave! The front has been breached! The Greek army is coming! They will beat you, rape you and kill you! They will hang people and burn everything! Leave now!” The horsemen who had orders to sow the seeds of fear and horror into the people crossed over Preval and split up at the crossroads, one ran to Bukovik, L’k and Drenovo and the others took the road to German. People in Prespa were gathering their most important things, from what remained, and packing them in sacks. There was yelling, screaming, pleading and crying. The roads were packed with people leaving. A woman was wailing at the top of her voice looking up and cursing the sky. Winds of fear hovered over the people spreading panic and horror, making them run. The people who passed Perovo, the narrow passage where the water flows between the two lakes, and took the road to Vineni, could see the rising smoke and flames behind them. They could also see the same horsemen who had warned them to leave, burning the wheat fields. Flames were now consuming the mature grains from which bread was made… The thick smoke generated by the cannon and mortar fire covering the mountains and valleys was blown away by the wind and the sky had opened up. The broken stones were warmed by the summer sun. No one was allowed to travel. The hill seemed dead. They were monitoring the region with binoculars from over yonder. They were combing every bush and every stone. The slightest movement awakened the cannons and the hill was on fire again. They burned the piles of broken rock.

The days in August are long. Tired, numbed, faces glued to the ground, coiled they squatted in the shallow trenches. The sun was hot and the earth was burning. The Sergeant repeated the order: “Not a single step back, hold your ground to the last one!” Every attempt to take a new position was met with death. There was not even 300 meters to the forest behind them. It would be safer there. The space between them and the forest was bare like a shaven head. The silence and anticipation was torturing them. The earth was baked by the sun and burned by grenades. They broke stone with their dull pickaxes. They shoveled soil and broken stone with their bare hands. Their hands were raw, bleeding and full of sores. Their bodies baked, burned and blistered with bubbles full of yellow fluid. “The trench is too shallow!” the Commander was heard saying. “Do you see? Look,” one of the fighters yelled. “How am I going to use these hands? How am I going to carry my ammunition? It’s best you send me to the first line… I will be more useful there.” “Patience,” said the Commander in a gentle tone of voice. “Give yourself a day or so and this here will be the first line. Now dig…” “How can I dig with hands like these?” the fighter opened his hands in front of the Commander. “Dig… You can dig even with hands like that. Dig and you will see how easy it will be when the cannon shells start falling on you. Dig, dig as deep as you can so there will be a place for you to hide your head. Then you will forget the pain in your hands… Dig now…” ordered the Commander. All night they carried water from the brook and filled the newly dug trenches. Wet, the soil softened and was easier to scoop out. They dug and dug and kept an eye on the hill to their left. All night the machine guns fired with out interruption. It was dawn. The noise of flying aircraft was heard. Moments later the hill was covered in thick black smoke. Stacks of soil and fine stones were flying in the air as bombs hit the ground. After three circles the planes left and soon after that the artillery began to fire. It seemed like there was no end. Their ears hurt from the whistling of cannon shells flying over. “Hey, you with the turban!” said the Commander. “Get off your butt and keep on digging!” He lifted the pickaxe and at that very moment the whistling sounds of flying shells stopped. There was a strange silence in the air. He thought he had gone deaf. It seemed to him like someone was yelling in the distance. He dropped the pickaxe and turned towards the valley. There, down there at the bottom of the hill he could see spots, spots that moved with every heartbeat, grew and came closer. The hill was quiet, waiting. The spots grew larger. The spots were now visible to the naked eye. They were sunlight reflected off the helmets, bayonets and machine gun barrels of enemy soldiers running. Soldiers could clearly be seen running upright in rows yelling e-e-e-… He now understood what was happening. The enemy soldiers were yelling “Forward!” He could see a second and a third row of enemy soldiers. Those in the first row were now leaning forward and seizing the bottom of the hill. But not so fast, machine gun fire was heard and the first row fell flat on the ground. The second row slowed down and the third row shortened its step. The hill echoed. Thousands of hot bullets buried themselves into the hill entrance. How much time had passed since the fire invigorated the hill? He didn’t know but he could see the opponent withdrawing and he could hear thunder again… The hill was covered in smoke. The wind blew the smoke away. It thundered again. The cannons stopped firing. The enemy infantry charged. Bent forward soldiers made their way towards the hill all hidden in the smoke. The wind blew the smoke away. The artillery thundered again. It stopped thundering… He watched the soldiers run uphill again and again and heard the volleys of machine gun fire and explosions of hand grenades pushing them back. “So, the hillside is alive, our fighters are still alive...”

he muttered to himself, spit on his hands, raised the pickaxe and hit the rock with all his might. Orders came during the night to leave the hill… Before that a rider came and ordered the men to take out the mines so that those leaving could pass through safely. Those who had planted the mines unfortunately were not there and there was no one to tell them where the mines were planted. There was also no one to tell them which path was safe to take. They walked straight into the minefields ... From the 28 that were sent to defend the new positions only five returned alive... At another location. The Commander of the Government Second Corps gave an order to Division IX to attack well-established DAG positions at the Kosinets and Labanitsa Hills. The attacks were to take place during the night of August 11-12. The road to the village Smrdesh passed through the Labanitsa hills and so did the highway from Korcha to Lerin. So, Division IX’s task was to destroy all resistance between the villages Labanitsa and Kosinets and take the village Smrdesh. The idea was to close the road to Mali-Madi in order to prevent resistance reinforcements from getting through. After that Division IX was to secure the road Smrdesh-Breznitsa-Zhelevo and close the escape route from Vicho so that existing DAG units would find themselves surrounded. In order to strengthen Division IX’s attack capability, the 42nd Infantry Brigade and two Artillery Regiments, stationed in the village Tikveni, were placed at its disposal. They were ordered to join Division IX in the morning hours of August 11th. The column of trucks took its time slowly moving down the Chetirok-Sveta Nedela-Osheni-Dolno Papratsko road where, in Krchishta, at a designated location, it was to join up with two Battalions from the 41st Brigade. Unfortunately Division IX arrived at its destination too late and, while attempting to deploy, was suddenly bombarded by DAG artillery stationed over Labanitsa basin near the Albanian border. Because of the unexpected delay, Government Division IX failed to surprise the enemy. The plan was to have Division IX, in the course of the evening hours, synchronize its attacks with Brigade 41. Brigade 41 was to break through the hills that divided Kosinets and Labanitsa and take Smrdesh. Brigade 42 meanwhile was ordered to protect the left flank to the north along the Greek-Albanian border. Brigade 43 was to take the Kosinets hills. But because the artillery failed to take its positions in a timely manner, to execute a half hour bombardment, the entire plan was delayed. The synchronized attacks were then rescheduled to commence at 21.00 hours, but the artillery again failed to execute its bombardment on time, so the attack was delayed again and did not commence until 24.00 hours. A vicious battle followed, with opponents fighting in close proximity for approximately five hours. The battle lasted until 05.00 hours, August 12th when all attacks were suspended because Brigade 41 could not break through the resistance at the Kosinets-Labanitsa hills. At that point the Brigade was ordered to penetrate Albanian territory, enter Smrdesh from the hills west of the village Labanitsa, close the road to Albania and prevent DAG units from escaping. Unfortunately during the Albanian border penetration the Greek Government Brigade invaded the villages Trstenik and Kapeshtina on the Albanian side of the border. Here it was met with stiff resistance from the Albanian Army, DAG Units and the armed civilian population. Greek Government forces were pushed back and withdrew from Albanian territory but not before suffering heavy casualties. Government forces had no choice but to retreat and regroup. By noon they were again ready to go on the offensive. Then, after vicious air and artillery attacks on DAG positions, the three Division IX Brigades launched their attacks at 21.00 hours, August 12th. But, even with their renewed vigour, they still had no success penetrating west of the River Belitsa.

Division IX’s progress was again hampered that day and with 350 officers and soldiers lost, its ability to engage in further combat was diminished. August 12th was not a successful day for the Government army. DAG forces, at least for this day, managed to hold on to their current positions but not without great sacrifices. After the attacks, DAG reinforced its internal defenses in hopes of preventing the opponent from taking Smrdesh and from blocking its escape route to Albania. The next day, on August 13th, Division III Government Units were taken from Chuka and Lisets and sent to Preval and Vrba. After capturing the hills to the left and right of Preval, without significant resistance from the opposition, they continued their advance to the village Orovnik. On their way they established control of the Breznitsa-Zhelevo-Psoderi road, closing the gap on the opponent. During the afternoon of the same day, DAG Units took up combat positions at the westernmost hills in Mali-Madi and on the elongated Mazi Hill, elevation 1,676, to the right of Prevolot, in order to secure the withdrawal of the larger DAG units. A general withdrawal of DAG units began the morning of August 14th. They were headed towards the village Smrdesh, the mountains Vrba and Preval and towards Lake Mala Prespa. All units located north of Prevolot and everything down to Bela Voda, were headed in the direction of the villages P'pli, Rudari, Shtrkovo, German and R'bi. Their objective was to quickly pass the valley between the two Prespa lakes and cross the lake peninsula. Units south of Preval retreated in the direction of the villages Vmbel, Smrdesh and the Albanian border. Overpowered, frantic, exasperated and bitter they were under constant attack from aircraft, artillery and tanks. On the evening of August 14, with the exception of the Prespa Lake peninsula, the entire Prespa basin was under Government army control. The Great Lie – Chapter 24