INTRODUCTION - Part 12

Life however was not the same. Morale was low and the people lived in constant fear of the authorities and retributions from Greek collaborators. There was a certain stigma attached to the relatives of Partisans or Partisan supporters causing them to withdraw from society and keep to themselves. Those who served in the Greek concentration camps were also harassed with curfews, restricted mobility, and suspicion of espionage. Many were followed by plainclothes policemen and pressured to become informants and spy on their neighbours. Strangers were viewed with suspicion and automatically assumed to be foreign spies. This was the case with Pando Stefov, an Oshchimian man who left Oshchima during the Greek Civil War and briefly came back to visit his sister. According to people who knew him, “Pando was a gentleman who hurt no one.” In fact, during the Partisan years Pando was an entertainer and never took part in combat. But one spring morning in the late 1950s a Greek bullet sent him to his grave. Pando left Oshchima with the refugees in 1949 and took up residence in Bitola, in the Federal Republic of Macedonia. At that time, Pando was having family problems and decided to illegally cross into Greece to visit his sister, Trena, in Oshchima. Pando was well aware of the situation in Greece but decided to visit anyway. As he made his way to Oshchima he was spotted in Psoderi and reported to the Greek authorities. By late night a patrol from Zhelevo was sent to look for him. They must have known who he was and where he was headed because a watch was set up to wait for him outside Oshchima. After visiting, his sister urged him to leave quickly because his presence was putting the entire village in danger. Pando took her advice and left the next day early in the morning. To avoid detection, Pando walked through the fields, avoiding the roads and headed for Albania. The patrol was expecting him to arrive along the road and as he approached through the fields, they mistook him for one of their own men. Seeing that Pando didn’t stop and continued to walk past them, they quickly realized he was their target. Details are sketchy as to what happened next. Some say the patrol yelled for him to halt and fired at him as he ran. Some say they were startled by his sudden approach and fired in fear. The fact remains that a single shot was fired which wounded Pando in the leg. Then several machineguns were fired, their bullets hitting Pando in the back of the head, killing him instantly. Pando’s body and belongings were searched for papers, maps, etc to prove he was a spy but nothing was found. The only evidence they found was some bread and cheese given to him by his sister for the journey. Suspecting that he was in contact with someone in Oshchima, the patrol turned their attention to finding them. They went first to Ilo Toupourkov’s house and asked him if he knew Pando and if he had relatives in the village. Ilo told them that he knew Pando and that Nikola Stefovski was a relative. The patrol went knocking on Nikola’s door and his wife, Sofia, answered. Without explaining why, they asked her to give them some bread and cheese. She did as she was asked and the officer in charge confirmed that the bread was a match and that indeed Nikola was in contact with Pando. Without an explanation Nikola was quickly handcuffed and escorted out of his house. Nikola was not told what had happened and why he was detained. As it happened someone mentioned that Pando also had a sister living in Oshchima so before interrogating Nikola, the patrol decided to investigate the new lead. Fortunately, Trena confessed and explained Pando’s visit. Both Nikola and Trena were released unharmed. As for the bread, both Trena and Sofia baked bread on the same day with similar ingredients. Pando’s body was taken to Zhelevo and buried near the road at the edge of the Zhelevo cemetery. As radios became affordable people began to listen to all sorts of programs, including broadcasts from East European countries and the Federal Republic of Macedonia.

The Greek authorities did not approve of their citizens listening to foreign programs, especially those broadcast in the Macedonian language. On many occasions policemen were observed standing outside of homes trying to determine what programs people were listening to. Those caught listening to foreign programs were accused of espionage. As in the 1930s, the Macedonian language in the 1950’s was again forbidden and banned from use. The “M” word became a dirty word even if it was spoken on the radio. Since the Greek occupation of Macedonia in 1912, successive Greek Governments have refused to acknowledge the existence of Macedonians or their language. Their claim is that the indigenous people living in geographical Macedonia are Slavophone Greeks and the language they speak is a convoluted Bulgarian dialect remaining from the Exarchists who dominated the region in the fourth quarter of the 19th century. This is

indeed absurd since the entire Macedonian population, including Oshchimians, spoke Macedonian before either Greek or Bulgarian had ever been heard. One by one, all refugees who came back to Oshchima, from East European countries, left for Canada, the USA or Australia because they could not stand Greek oppression. They had tasted freedom and wanted more even if it meant abandoning their beloved ancestral homes. They remembered how life had been before and it was no longer the same. The people had somehow changed. They were still courteous and kind but their spirit was broken. Everyone was afraid of speaking as if their every word would be judged and they would be punished for it. Children born during this time were brought up believing that life had always been like this. There were certain things that could not be said or done, especially about the Greek Civil War. The Macedonian language became known as “our” language and could only be spoken in private and only with relatives and friends who could be trusted. Pre-school children were constantly teased and scolded for improperly speaking Greek. If by any chance a child was caught speaking “our” language in class or in the yard, punishment ensued in the form of public humiliation (“don’t speak those filthy words”) or a good dose of castor oil. Sometimes children sang songs about the deeds of Greek heroes, which they learned about in class. It broke parents’ hearts to know that unknowingly their own children idolized those that brought harm to the Macedonian Nation. Some parents, when their children were old enough to keep a secret, taught them that they were a different people. They were Macedonian not Greek. Other parents unfortunately, thought that it was in the best interest of their children not to know the truth and allowed them to believe that they were Greek. Their loyalty, however, was never rewarded. It was very rare for a Macedonian child to be accepted in the institutions of higher education, to work for the Greek Government or to join the military and become officers. This was not because they were incapable but because the Greek Government systemically discriminated against them. Discrimination was common practice even at an individual level. Oshchimians, like most Macedonians, knew their place and for the most part kept to themselves but sometimes during discussions or unavoidable arguments they voiced their opinions. The arguments, unfortunately, always ended with a lethal insult of being called a “Bulgar”, the lowest form of life known to Greeks. The highest education an Oshchimian child could achieve was grade six. High school was possible only for children of those who were loyal to the Greek cause. After the fall of the dictatorship in the mid-sixties, Oshchimians were publicly encouraged by the Greek politicians to leave Oshchima because “there was no future for them there”. Many of the empty villages in western Macedonia were filled with Albanians from west central Greece. Vlahs who originally lived in the highlands of Thessaly and spent summers in the Macedonian Mountains took up permanent residence there. Many applied for and were granted the properties of post civil war migrant families. By 1970 there were only eight Oshchimians still living in Oshchima. Since then several Vlah families moved in and took up residence, first as squatters and then with the Greek Government’s help, as legitimate property owners.

Interviews

I have been very fortunate in having the opportunity to conduct first hand interviews with the actual people whose lives have made history. The following are accounts of real events that reshaped peoples’ lives forever. It has been over fifty years since these events took place and even though memories have faded the experiences are real and are told just as they are remembered.

John (son of Trpo and Ristana)

John (Iane), son of Trpo and Ristana, was born in the village Oshchima on February 14th, 1926 and currently lives in Toronto, Canada. As a young boy John completed grade six in public school in

Oshchima then went to work on the family farm on a full time basis. John’s father left the village in 1927 to seek work in Canada as a pechalbar and was not a part of John’s life for twenty-five years. For most of his young life John lived with his mother and maternal grandparents, assuming various responsibilities on the farm from delivering lunch to the field workers to cow herding, tilling soil, reaping crops, and a little shepherding. John admits his shepherding career was short but memorable. One day in his three-week shepherding career, John was asked to deliver the flock overnight to a field in Polenie. The idea was to bring the sheep to rest in a field overnight so their droppings would fertilize the soil. John was still in Goendarnitsa, a long way from his destination, as the sun began to set. The land was arid and there was little upon which the sheep could graze. John had doubts about this trip, especially with hungry sheep, but it was not his decision. He continued the trek until he arrived at Koutlishcha. Darkness had fallen but he could still make out the green meadows of Filipodolou down in the valley and so could the sheep. Without warning the sheep fled, running down the hill towards the meadows, leaving John standing in their dust. The sight of lush vegetation was too much for the hungry sheep to bear. When John caught up with them he was so tired that he sat down for a rest. The next thing he remembers was bright sunlight in his eyes as he awakened the next day from a long sleep. He had never reached the intended field and told the anxious owner who had waited for him all night that the sheep were too hungry and wouldn’t have been able to contribute much to his field. Another story John likes to tell is about an experience he had as a boy one Kolenda day. School children loved to celebrate Kolenda and enjoyed getting gifts and attention as they went from house to house singing carols. Teachers went out of their way to proudly teach the children Christmas songs and carols especially for this occasion. It was without exception that Ms Cleopatra, a teacher from Solun who was posted in Oshchima to teach Greek, proudly taught the children many carols. When the day came, Ms Cleopatra anxiously waited for them at her balcony with a basket full of candy. She didn’t count on the jesting Risto Stefou however, who accompanied the children and persuaded them to sing one of Oshchima’s favourite carols “dedo oide na brak”. This was a rude carol sung in Macedonian but was very appropriate for the occasion according to Oshchimian tradition. After hearing the song the lady became embarrassed, and flustered she dropped the basket of candy and ran inside the house. In spite of his father’s absence, John had a happy childhood. Being the only child in the Rade household he got all the attention he needed from his mother and grandparents. Compared to other Oshchimian families, John’s family was well off financially. They owned a number of fertile fields and harvested more than enough food to sustain them. With their savings and with John’s help, in 1942 John’s maternal grandfather built a new house for the family. One year later, John met and married Petra an Oshchimian girl. Petra Raikova, daughter of Risto and Rina and one of ten siblings, was born on March 10th, 1927. John and Petra wed on December 5th, 1943 and lived in the Rade house. About a year later, on November 13th, 1944 John and Petra’s first child Vasil was born. About a year after that on October 11th, 1945 daughter Kaliopi was born. With a family and children to bring up, John was much too busy working on the farm. During the Italian and German occupation Oshchimians were busy earning a living. As long as they did not interfere in the affairs of the occupiers they were left alone to their own devices. This, however, did not last too long and shortly after the Germans and Italians were expelled the liberators turned their violence on each other. The conflict escalated into civil war with catastrophic consequences for Macedonia.

As John put it, “This was the death nail in the coffin of civilized Oshchima.” By early 1947 John could no longer ignore the violence and decided it was time to leave. With Canada and his father in mind John left Oshchima for Athens to pick up his passport. Once in Athens, however, he received news that the Greek military was refusing to release his passport. He did not count on being drafted. With the Partisans in control of the Lerin and Kostour regions it was impossible for him to return home yet he was not prepared financially to stay in Athens. Living there would have been very expensive. Three months passed before John left Athens for Solun where he spent the next year and a half working at odd jobs to survive. Finally in October 1948 he was drafted and sent for training. For fourteen months he trained in the signal corps and served in the military for three years until his release in October 1951. John considers himself lucky that he was not sent to fight at the front in Macedonia. The same, however, cannot be said about his wife Petra. After John left Oshchima, the

Partisans drafted or evacuated most Oshchimians including John’s wife. His children were evacuated with the first wave of refugees in 1948 and sent to Czechoslovakia. Petra was drafted and assigned to the medical corps where she served as a field medic, transporting the dead and wounded from the battlefields to field hospitals. Petra was lucky that she was discharged early but there was a price to pay. Two of her family members were killed in the conflict, her father and brother. In view of the family loss and as a gesture of good will, the Partisans released one family member from active duty. Being the only mother and with two young children, the family felt that Petra was the logical choice to be released. Petra’s service for the Partisans was then limited to building bunkers, trenches, and providing labour as required. This lasted until late 1949 when, with the exception of the very old, the entire village was evacuated to avoid capture. Petra, along with other refugees left Oshchima for Albania and eventually was sent to Poland. About four years later, with assistance from the Red Cross, Petra was reunited with her children and lived in Poland until her departure for Canada in 1955. When John was discharged from the military the civil war was over and he was allowed to return home to Oshchima. However, Petra, the children, and John’s mother were all gone leaving him no reason to stay there. After a brief visit with his grandparents, John left Oshchima and within a month obtained his passport and left the country altogether. He left December 1st and arrived in Canada December 18th, 1951. John saw his father for the first time in twenty-five years. It was a joyful reunion but unfortunately did not last long. Both men were used to living independent lives and could not cope with each other. After starting a restaurant business together John left to pursue a career of his own. At first it was difficult, with John taking odd jobs while he struggled to learn the English language. While working at a cocktail lounge on Yonge Street to pay the bills, John applied and was accepted into college. He took a liberal arts program, the only program that did not have prerequisites. After five to six years of struggling with night school and work he graduated with a certificate. While studying and working hard to make a life for himself, John was also hard at work trying to reunite his family. In 1952 he went to the Greek consulate requesting assistance but his plea was ignored. Frustrated with the impartiality of the Greek government John tried a different approach. In 1953 he contacted Dr. Stamburry of the Canadian Red Cross who was about to go to a conference in Switzerland where he would be meeting with the Polish Red Cross. John presented his case to Dr. Stamburry who promised him that he would look into it. Soon after the conference, John received a letter informing him that a member of the Canadian legation in Poland visited his family. Unfortunately, his family was very poor and was in need of financial assistance. Canada was willing to contribute the necessary finances provided that John was willing to reimburse them at home. An agreement was reached but John’s real aim was to bring his family home to Canada. The Red Cross could not give him a definite commitment but advised him to make advance travel arrangements. John took their advice and pre-purchased airfare with British Airways. A year later on May 23rd, as his family was bound for Copenhagen, John received a confirmation call that his family was on its way to Canada. Two days later, on May 25th, 1955 they landed in Canada. The Canadian Red Cross was extremely helpful not only to John’s family but to many other families in similar circumstances, for which we are very grateful. John’s quest to reunite his family did not end there. His mother was still in Poland and he wanted to bring her home. John’s mother Ristana had fled Oshchima for Albania in the fall of 1949 with the last wave of refugees.

She eventually settled in Poland where she spent about seven years before she joined John and his family in Toronto. His quest to reunite his mother with his family proved to be more difficult than John had expected. He turned to Canadian Immigration for assistance without much success. He was told that his mother was not of age to qualify and John did not have the financial strength to sponsor her. He did not give up but became more determined. He wrote a letter to the minister of immigration explaining his problem and asked for assistance. He was not disappointed, his appeal was reviewed and by ministerial decree John was given permission to bring his mother home. By now John had completed his studies and with his college certificate in hand, he pursued a career in which he secured a position as general manager of the Toronto Airport facilities with CARA operations, a food catering company. At that time CARA was a small company with the potential for growth at the crossroads of development and in need of young executives willing to take charge. His

education opened the doors and helped John attain a management position. John stayed with CARA until his retirement in 1986. His twenty-six years of service took him from general manager to district manager for all of Toronto, then to general manager of all airports and eventually to vice president of all restaurant operations. In Canada, in the absence of conflict, suspicion, and accusations, John found that the individual freedom here allowed him to pursue creativity. With only a dollar John was able to obtain membership in the library and gain access to the finest knowledge the world had to offer. With less than a hundred dollars a year he was able to afford a college education. From the day he arrived in Canada John was active in the Oshchimian and Macedonian communities in Toronto. He joined Benefit Society Oshchima in 1952 and has been an active participant in the society’s affairs ever since. John was instrumental in putting together the 75th anniversary edition of the Benefit Society Oshchima book.

Pando (son of Spiro and Lena) and Leffa (daughter of Lazo and Lena)

Pando, son of Spiro and Lena was born in the village Oshchima on January 16th, 1929 and currently lives in Toronto, Canada. Pando completed grade four in Oshchima before the schools were closed due to the outbreak of the Greek-Italian war. Subsequently, he was sent to Lerin where he continued his education for six more years before leaving for Canada on July 14, 1947. Pando’s father Spiro came to Canada in 1928, just before Pando was born, seeking migrant work (pechelbarstvo). Unfortunately, due to his involvement in politics and for his activist work in the Macedonian community in Canada, the Greek Government would not allow him to return home. Spiro was very active and an avid supporter not only of Benefit Society Oshchima but of many other Macedonian organizations also. Spiro was a founder of the United Macedonians organization, St. Clement Church in Toronto, and the Canadian Macedonian Senior Citizens Club. Spiro Bassil was a household name not only in the Macedonian community but also in the entire city of Toronto. Being unable to go home, Spiro turned his attention to studying law by day while working at night. The problems at home and his care for the common man, however, became Spiro’s preoccupation and his desire to learn gave way to his passion for politics and the Macedonian community. In the years to come, Spiro became an inspiration for many young activists. Pando was only ten years old when the Greek-Italian conflict began and even though he spent most of his time in school, he did experience the difficulties of conflict. During the summer breaks Pando came home to live with his mother Lena and grandmother Soulta. The men in the house were either stranded out of the country pursuing pechalba or were drafted by the Partisans. During the summer of 1944, Pando had an experience that he will never forget. It was a quiet summer day as people in the village went about their business, when sitting on his balcony Pando heard a roar of machinegun fire at Osoi and saw the spatter of bullets coming his way. It was a German soldier shooting at the Partisans. Pando saw his grandmother fall on the ground in the yard below but for the moment, thought nothing of it. Pando realized the seriousness of the situation when his panicked mother rushed in and grabbed him to take him to safety in the mountains. As mother and son ran down the stairs, they heard faint cries for help coming from the yard below. It was Soulta, shot and lying in a pool of blood. The experience frightened and saddened Pando to see his baba lying there, suffering. Soulta was taken to a doctor in German, Prespa but nothing could be done. The wound was fatal and she died. The next day Soulta’s body was brought back to Oshchima, escorted by her son’s Cheta (freedom fighters) and buried in the Svety Nikola cemetery. When he received news that his mother was killed, Voivida (Captain) Mito Toupourkovski, code named Titan, crossed over the border and escorted Soulta home. Mito and his Cheta had, at the time, been fighting the Germans in Yugoslavia (today’s Republic of Macedonia). The Cheta took up positions and encircled Oshchima providing security for Soulta’s funeral. A while later a German patrol came to Pando’s doorstep informing him that his house was about to be burned down. They came to burn down the house where “Titan” had been seen. A German officer who spoke a little Greek informed Pando of this and asked him to step aside. Among the Germans was a

Bulgarian officer who spoke Macedonian and informed Pando of the same. Pando, however, stood his ground and told them three brothers lived in this house and it did not belong to “Titan”. The German officer saw no need to destroy the house and, after apologizing to Pando, left. The Bulgarian was not satisfied with the action taken but could do nothing so he too walked away. Pando believes that if the Germans had not been there, the Bulgarian would have burned the house down. After arriving in Canada, Pando enrolled at Leaside High in Toronto. Upon completion of high school, he joined his father and uncle, Paul Bassil, employed in the restaurant business. At age 21, Pando became a member of Benefit Society Oshchima and in 1955, for the first time he joined the board of directors in the Society’s executive committee where he serves to this day. In 1956 Pando married his first wife Pat with whom he had two children, Spiro born March 20th, 1957 and Paul born August 23rd, 1959. On February 22nd, 1985, Pando married his second wife Leffa Golichova, an Oshchimian living in Toronto. Leffa, daughter of Lazo and Lena was born in the village Oshchima on September 15th, 1929. As a child, Leffa completed grade three in public school before her education was interrupted by the Greek-Italian conflict. At age eleven, Leffa joined the work force assuming domestic responsibilities at the Golichov family homestead. Without men to help out, like many young Oshchimian women, Leffa laboured hard to make a living. This lasted until the fall of 1948 when she was drafted by the Partisans and sent to Prespa for combat training. Her first destination was Lk (pronounced Luck), a small village near Lake Prespa where she learned, among other things, to use and fire a rifle. After four months of training Leffa, along with the other women in the camp, became part of the reserves and was assigned to duties that included transporting grain and foodstuffs, cleaning, washing and mending uniforms, and cooking and delivering food to the frontlines. During battles, Leffa was also assigned to the medic core to transport the dead and wounded from the battlefield to the field hospitals. Leffa spent about eight months in the Prespa region before she was transferred to Kolumnati and Bapchor to support the Vicho campaign. The Vicho terrain was rough and steep making transport, even by mule, very hazardous. To make matters worse, the paths leading to Vicho were in direct view of the enemy front line. On many occasions, Leffa’s transport column was attacked both from the ground and from the air. One time Leffa recalls, she looked up and the sky was black with fighter planes thundering above and raining bullets down on her. It must be difficult to kill a person, she thought to herself, as she watched the bullets hit the ground, creating wisps of dust jumping up and down all around her. After a victory in Negush, the Partisans captured and drafted a number of young women who then became the women’s responsibility to transport back to Kolumnati. It was a hard struggle for the women going on foot all the way from Kolumnati to Negosh and back, traveling at night to dodge Royalist Greek patrols. The hardest part of the trip Leffa recalls, was on the way back when the women had to cross a raging river in Voden. They crossed the river in the dark of night on treacherous terrain, swinging on a tight rope, deafened by the thunder of rushing water, not knowing what awaited in the darkness below if they fell. It was a miracle that no one was hurt. Later in life Leffa went back and took a train from Lerin to Negosh just to see how far it was. To this day, she still wonders how she managed to survive that dreaded assignment. Her final mission before the war was over was the attack on Lerin. After spending a couple of weeks in Karadzhova they were told to prepare for battle at an undisclosed time and location. When they arrived at Bigla, they saw that the artillery and machineguns were set up to face the city of Lerin but still they were not told when the battle was going to take place.

They expected the attack to be a surprise ambush carried out at night. When the order to attack was given, however, it was already dawn and the Partisan frontline was in full view. After the initial contact, the response from the Royalist side was quick, fierce, and decisive. No sooner had the battle started than the Partisans were in retreat. Those like Leffa, in support of the frontlines, were trapped. They had two choices, surrender and face the consequences or run and take their chances dodging machinegun fire. Those brave enough ran and lost their lives in the process. Most, however, were too afraid to run and waited for a rescue attempt which never materialized. By the time it was over, six to seven hundred young Macedonian men and women died, cut down by machinegun fire and buried in a mass grave. Among them was Leffa’s friend Trena Boglevska, from

Oshchima. It seemed like moments ago that Leffa and Trena hugged and wished each other good luck before they parted company. Trena was working on the opposite side of the frontline from Leffa. She was dead now, cut down in her prime by a Greek bullet. To this day, Leffa still mourns her loss. In a few hours the battle was over and huddled together with two male officers, thirty Partisan women were trapped in a school awaiting their fate. Leffa ripped off the pins and symbols from her uniform and threw them away. Soon after, the Greek soldiers came accompanied by an old General. The General went from girl to girl as they sat on the floor, patting each on the head and whispering to them in a soft voice, “You saved your life by surrendering.” The women were expecting the worst, but no harm came to them. After their capture each woman was sprayed with pesticide to kill the lice and was placed under arrest in the Lerin prisons. Six days later, Leffa was transferred to Kozheni, a larger prison camp that looked like a town of tents. There, Leffa endured three months of daily interrogations being asked the same questions day after day after day. Leffa insisted that she was drafted by force by the Partisans and stuck to her story. Leffa is grateful to her brother Naso for his frequent visitations to the prison and for making life a little more bearable. Thanks to UNDRA, Leffa was given a change of clothing that was a welcome contribution in prison. While Leffa was in prison, her family was working on her immigration papers to Canada. With her record there was no future for her at home. Leffa’s father came to Canada in 1947 and wanted to give his daughter a better life away from the conflict. Leffa arrived in Toronto on August 15th, 1949, and soon after took a job in a laundromat where she worked for two years. On September 21st, 1952, Leffa married Steve (Taskho) a Canadian Macedonian from Drenoveny and ten months later, on July 12, 1953, her daughter Elizabeth was born. Unfortunately tragedy struck and Tashko, Leffa’s husband, died of liver complications leaving Leffa a widow for five years before she remarried, taking Pando as her second husband. Pando and Leffa are both retired now and live happily together in Toronto surrounded by their children and grandchildren.

Sotir (son of Risto and Vana) and Slavka (daughter of Sterio and Dafina)

Sotir son of Risto and Vana was born in Oshchima on June 15th, 1912. As a child, Sotir spent most of his time working on the farm and helping out with family chores. At age ten he was sent to the town of German for the summer to work as a hired hand, herding cattle. After that, year after year Sotir left home to seek employment to support himself and the large Boglev family. For years he worked outside of Oshchima, mostly in the surrounding villages including Zhelevo. He was also hired several times by Oshchimian families to work for them within Oshchima. Sotir was a small boy in stature due to the poor nutrition he received when he was a baby. At his birth his mother had no milk and was unable to breast feed him so for his sustenance he depended solely on coarse foods, consisting mainly of vegetables and grains. Around 1928 the Greek Government initiated an education policy in its new occupied territories, ordering the youth of the indigenous population to learn the Greek language by force. At age sixteen Sotir was obligated to attend public school. After completing grades two and three his teachers, satisfied that he knew enough Greek, allowed him to graduate. After that, Sotir continued to work as a hired hand at various jobs. He recalls that one of the hardest jobs he ever did was working in the construction trade. For two years he carried stones and clay (caldjia) up ladders and scaffolds. Several times he tried to enlist in the Greek army but was rejected due to his young age. Then at age twenty-four, he was drafted and served for two years in the Greek military. In the summer of 1938 he was hired by the Oshchima counsel to serve as a water (vodar) and vineyard (pandar) manager for the village for one summer. During the same summer, in Oshchimian tradition, Sotir proposed to Slavka Keleshova also from Oshchima, and in August entered into engagement. Not too long after, in November of the same year, Sotir married Slavka. After their marriage, Slavka moved in with Sotir and joined the Boglev clan. It was not too long after that Sotir found himself in need of life’s necessities which the farm alone could not provide, especially with a child

on the way. So in the tradition of the pechalbars, Sotir applied for and received his passport. Then on August 14th, 1939, Sotir left home destined for France. Sotir recalls his trip took him to Athens and from there to the port of Perea where he boarded the ship that took him to France. On the way he had his palm read by a fortune-teller who told him he would take many trips and live a long life. It became true after all, said the 89 year old Sotir with a chuckle. The trip was an eye opener, for the first time he had seen how other people lived, dressed, danced, and conducted themselves in public. While passing through Athens, Sotir recalls hearing the news about a general mobilization that included his age group. Having a passport, however, gave him immunity and the authorities allowed him to continue his trip. This was a call to arms to defend Greece from invasion by fascist Italy. A week later, Sotir arrived at the port of Marseilles to find France in economic tatters. Seeing how other people lived raised Sotir’s hopes for a better life but reality was met with disappointment. He saw men walking barefoot with torn clothes and could not believe that they were worse off than he was. Luckily he made contact with his employer and on August 23rd, 1939 he arrived at the farm in d’Auvergne in Yonne province. Sotir enjoyed his job shepherding over five hundred sheep. It was hard work and involved twenty-four hours of his time but the people he worked with were pleasant and the pay was good. But as luck would have it, France fell pray to Nazi Germany and after ten months of employment, Sotir lost his job. Soon after the Germans invaded France the bombing began. The owner was the first to abandon the farm. After settling his debts with his employees, the owner just picked up and left. The farm was left to the care of his employees, many of whom were foreigners and did not see any point in dying for a job. Most packed up and left. A Polish woman begged Sotir to go but he refused. A day or so later everyone left. When Sotir came back from the pastures to replenish his supplies all he found were dead dogs and other animals killed by the bombing. Sotir panicked and fled for the Vichi Mountains, abandoning his sheep. After weeks in hiding Sotir came back, packed up a wagon with his belongings and some supplies, and left. By now there was not much food left and Sotir subsisted on boiled wheat. Having no particular destination in mind, Sotir traveled along the main road and met many refugees and columns of German soldiers. Sotir recalls that the horse he employed to pull his wagon was easily startled by commotion and foul smells and bucked a lot. At one point a German officer distraught by the whole thing ordered Sotir to do something. Unable to understand what he wanted, Sotir stood there motionless. The officer took his pistol out and placed it on Sotir’s head ordering him once again to do something. Emotionally traumatized by the event, Sotir steered his horse off the road, took his bike, and some of his clothes from the wagon and drove off. This was hostile territory and not to Sotir’s liking so he abandoned the wagon and biked 175 kilometers to Paris. There he met Ziso Stefov, another Oshchimian who helped him find a place to stay. French law prohibited migrant workers from accepting any work other than their designated jobs, so job hunting for Sotir was a futile effort. After a few attempts, the authorities became stern with Sotir and re-emphasized to him the country’s employment policy. He was given two choices, either to go back to the farm or face jail time. Sotir got on his bike and personally paid a visit to the immigration office. He explained to the authorities that the farm where he worked was no longer in operation and that he was in desperate need of employment. The immigration office granted him permission to seek employment elsewhere. While looking for work in the town of Sens, Sotir met Yane Tsarvekov, another Oshchimian.

Yane introduced him to his boss and helped him obtain a job at the construction site where Yane worked. Sotir went back to the immigration office and had his work permit extended for three years. Sotir worked with Yane from March to October 1941 delivering wagonloads of construction material. After that project was finished, Sotir, Yane, and another Macedonian from the Kostur region found work as lumberjacks. This, however, lasted only two months because the men did not have the strength to carry on due to a lack of good nutrition. Sotir and Yane quit their jobs and took the train to Paris where they heard of employment opportunities being offered by the German Government. Determined to stay employed, Sotir and Yane signed up and soon after were shipped out to Germany. Late in 1941 they arrived at a very large camp especially set up for migrant workers mainly from France, Poland, and Bulgaria. The camp was set up to provide labour for the large steel mill industry. There was plenty of work, food, and cigarettes. If one obeyed the rules life was pleasant. The mill operated in three shifts and there was plenty of work if one needed it. Speaking in Macedonian Sotir found it easy to communicate since mainly Poles

and Bulgarians ran the administration. Being protective of his earnings, Sotir always had money and did not hesitate to make loans to those in need, especially to the Bulgarians who loved to gamble. Workers enjoyed certain privileges including food ration coupons, above all others. Those who could not pay their debts with money, paid with food ration coupons instead, which Sotir did not hesitate to sell. Unfortunately, according to German rules, it was illegal to sell food ration coupons and as fate would have it Sotir got caught. He sold coupons to two Frenchmen who were unemployed. When the police came to arrest him he was asked open his locker. Before he was searched he managed to hide his wallet under his mattress. Since no evidence was found, Sotir thought he was free and he denied the charges. Unfortunately the Germans were not easily convinced and took him to trial. One of the Frenchmen, who was a witness, became very ill and could not testify so the trial was delayed indefinitely. Had Sotir pleaded guilty, he would have been jailed for no more than four months but now his future was unclear. The trial eventually did take place and Sotir was sentenced twelve months for the crime and two additional months for distorting the truth. His boss from the mill tried to have him released early by pleading that he was a good worker and was needed at the plant, but it didn’t work. Sotir recalls the jail was twenty-five kilometers away from the steel mill and the building itself was cross-shaped and housed thousands of men and women prisoners. Four-meter high walls surrounded the buildings. The American bombers continuously bombed the walls but none of the buildings were ever hit. Before he got into this mess, Sotir received news that, back in Oshchima, his younger brother Mito and his brother-in-law Risto were about to be married. In September 1942 Sotir recalls he went to the Gestapo to ask for permission to leave the country. After much advice about what route to take they granted him leave. His trip took him to Vienna, Austria, where he purchased some clothes for his family, Belgrad, Skopje, Bitola, Solun, Lerin, and finally Oshchima. After two and a half weeks of travel he had finally arrived home. Sotir recalls his trip being uncomfortable mostly due to erratic train schedules and having to sleep outdoors waiting for trains. As soon as the wedding ceremonies were over Sotir returned to Germany. His employer paid for the entire trip and his expenses. After serving a year of his sentence Sotir was released from jail by the liberating American allies in 1945. At this point, he had no money, passport or travel permits. The Americans had imposed curfews and travel restrictions. Anyone caught breaking the rules would be shot on sight. Sotir’s first thoughts were to go back to the mill to try and find his passport, but how? After several futile attempts he finally got a ride with some Greek men who were willing to take him to the camp. His search, however, proved fruitless. The men in the camp had broken into his locker and had taken everything, including his passport. He identified a shirt and jacket of his worn by a Greek man. The man, when confronted, denied stealing the clothes and had no knowledge of the whereabouts of the passport. Helpless to do anything on his own, Sotir turned to the local authorities for assistance. The authorities informed him that if he could find a witness to prove his identity they would allow him to leave. All migrant workers, according to German law, were allowed to return to their country of origin. Sotir found a Bulgarian man who vouched for him and was given permission to leave. Prior to his departure, Sotir met Yane who he had not seen for a couple of years and who was also destined for France. Upon arrival in Paris, the men once again met with Ziso who found them a place to stay. They had a room in a boarding house belonging to a Greek man with an influential French wife. Being influential, the French woman was able to recommend Sotir for employment in a local restaurant.

This was a restaurant that served soldiers on leave, sometimes up to three thousand at a time. Sotir accepted the job and worked twelve hours a day, from 6am to 6pm, washing dishes. The job was very difficult and demanding and after about a month of toil Sotir gave up and left. By now Sotir was making his own contacts and with the help of some friends in the US embassy he was able to get another job serving coffee at a coffee bar. Unfortunately, the coffee bar soon moved to a new location far away and once again, Sotir was unemployed. It was not too long before Sotir, with the help of some Greek friends from Asia Minor, found another job at a factory. This time it lasted about five months. By now Sotir had saved enough money and was looking to start his own business. In 1947 he applied for and received his permit to operate a business in Paris. The nephew of one of the Greek men from Asia Minor owned an outdoor variety shop and was willing to sell. Without hesitation Sotir purchased the shop and started his own business selling coffee, chocolate bars, roasted chestnuts, and