Chapter 9 Chapter 8
"Maria, Maria!" Anna shouted from the street to her sister's window, "they are coming! The Germans are coming!" Her voice was full of panic, and Maria ran down the stairs two steps at a time. , she expected to hear the sound of spiked boots marching down the main street of Plaka.
"Where is it?" Maria rushed into the street and ran into her sister, panting, "Where are they, why can't I see them?"
"They're not here, you idiot!" retorted Anna, "not yet, but they're in Crete, and they might come here."
Those who knew Anna could hear a hint of excitement in her voice.In her view, as long as it can break the monotonous life of step-by-step throughout the year and change the prospects of her future life, she welcomes anything.
Ana ran all the way back from Fotini's house, where a group of people gathered around a crackling radio.They had just heard the news that German paratroopers had landed in western Crete.The two of them ran to the village square. Everyone would come to this moment.It was four or five o'clock in the afternoon, and the bar was full of men. Unlike before, there were also women, all listening to the radio noisily.Although, needless to say, their own clamor drowned out the radio.
The message on the radio was blunt but limited: "About 6:00 a.m. a small group of paratroopers landed near the airfield near Marimen on Crete. All are said to be dead now."
It seemed that Anna was mistaken after all.The Germans didn't come at all.Maria thought that, as usual, her sister was overreacting.
However, the atmosphere remained tense.Athens fell four weeks ago, and the German flag has flown over the Acropolis ever since.That's disturbing enough.But to Maria, who had never been there, Athens seemed far away.Why should things there bother the people of Plaka?Also, thousands of Allied troops were coming to Crete from the mainland, of course their safety would be guaranteed!Maria felt safer listening to the grown-ups around her arguing, arguing, and speaking out about the war.
"They don't stand a chance!" sneered Vanglith Rydaki, the bar owner. "The continent is the continent, not Crete. Not in a million years! Look at our terrain! They couldn't have started Come across our mountains with tanks!"
"But we have not been able to keep the Turks out." Pavros Angelopoulos retorted pessimistically.
"The Venetians didn't stop either!" screamed a voice from the crowd.
"Well, if that fate befalls us, they'll get a lot more than they want!" growled the other, punching himself in the other open palm.
This is not a threat out of thin air. Everyone in the room understands that although Crete has been invaded in the past, the residents have never given up their fierce resistance.The history of Crete is a long series of struggles, revenge, and national independence. There is no house where you can't find bullet belts, rifles, and pistols.The pace of life may seem gentle, but behind it is usually a fierce battle between families and villages, and almost no man over the age of fourteen has not learned to use a deadly weapon.
Savina Angelopoulos stood at the door with Fotini and the two daughters of the Petrakis family, and she knew very well that her fear was justified.The speed of flight is the simple reason.The German planes that dropped the paratroopers flew from their base in Athens to Crete no further than a child walked to school in Elounda.But she was silent, feeling more vulnerable than safer as thousands of Allied troops retreated from the mainland to Crete.She is not as confident as the men.They like to believe that killing a few hundred German paratroopers who land is the end of the story.Savina's instinct told her that it was far from over.
Within a week, the real picture became clearer and clearer.Everyone gathers in the bar every day. At dusk at the end of May, the heat of the day will not decrease as the sun sets. This kind of weather has just begun in a year, and everyone spreads out in the square.They were no more than a hundred miles from the center of the war, and the people of Plaka lived on rumors, bits and pieces of gossip, and every day more stories came from around like dandelion seeds in the air.It seems that, judging from the strategic situation they are in now, although many people who were airdropped died, some people miraculously survived and lurked.Early versions of the story had nothing but German blood splattered, German soldiers stabbed to death by bamboo sticks, smothered by their own parachutes in olive groves, or smashed against rocks.But now the truth is out: Thousands of people landed on the airport, and a frighteningly large number survived.Now the situation has changed drastically, in favor of the Germans.The first week after the airborne, the Germans claimed Crete as their property.
That night, once again, everyone gathered in the bar.Maria and Fotini were outside, drawing tic-tac-toe with twigs on the gray earth, but they pricked up their ears when they heard the voices grow louder.
"Why don't we prepare?" Antonis Angelopoulos asked, slamming his glass down on the metal table. "Obviously, they came from the air." Antonis had deep feelings for himself and his brother, but even at the best of times, they only showed a little bit occasionally.His green eyes shone with anger, shaded by black lashes.The two boys were quite different, Angelos being weaker both physically and mentally, while Antonis had a lanky face, was domineering and eager to attack.
"No, that's not it," said Angelos, waving his fat hand contemptuously. "Nobody thought of that."
Pavloth is not surprised, the two sons have never seen eye to eye on anything, and this is not the first time.He lit a cigarette and expressed his opinion.
"I agree with Angelos," he said. "No one thinks of air strikes. Invading from here is suicidal—landing from the sky?! Drop one and kill one!"
Pavloth is right.To most of them, it would have been tantamount to suicide, but the Germans sacrificed thousands of people to achieve their goals, and they didn't even think about it.Before the Allies organized a counterattack, the key Marimen Airport, not far from Haria, had fallen into the hands of the Germans.
For the first few days, Braca went about his business as usual.No one knew what the presence of Germans on Crete meant to them.For days, they were stunned to have allowed this to happen.The leaked news paints a darker picture than they imagined.Forty thousand Greek and Allied forces were routed on Crete within a week, tens of thousands of Allied troops had to be evacuated, and many were wounded and killed.The debate in the bar intensified.There was talk of how the village should prepare to defend itself when the Germans came fighting east.The desire to take up arms now spread like a religious frenzy, the villagers were not afraid of bloodshed, and many looked forward to taking up arms.
For the people of Plaka, this became a reality when a German force entered San Nicolas and a small detachment was dispatched from there to Elounda.When the Petkis girls came home from school, Anna stopped and tugged at her sister's sleeve.
"Look, Maria!" she urged. "Look! It's coming from the street."
Maria's heart stopped beating.This time Anna was right, the Germans really came.Two soldiers deliberately walked towards them.What would the occupying forces do once they invaded?She guessed they would kill everyone.Otherwise why come?Maria's legs went limp.
"What should we do?" she asked quietly.
"Keep going." Anna hissed at Mary.
"Shall we turn a corner and go the other way?" Maria asked pleadingly.
"Don't be stupid, just keep walking. I want to get closer and see what they look like." She grabbed her sister's arm and pushed her forward.
Unpredictable soldiers, their blue eyes staring ahead, clad in thick wool uniforms and steel-toed military boots clattered rhythmically on the cobblestones.When they passed by, they didn't even look at the two sisters, as if they were nothing.
"They didn't even look at us!" Anna yelled when they were out of hearing.She was almost fifteen now, and she felt it was an insult if no one of the opposite sex noticed her.
Within a few days, Plaka had a small barracks of German soldiers.In the most remote corner of the village, a family was roughly woken up early in the morning.
"Open the door!" the German soldier yelled, banging on the door with the butt of his rifle.
Despite not being able to understand a word of German, the family understood the order and what was to follow.They have until noon to vacate the house or at their own peril.At the beginning of the day, Anna excitedly predicted that the garrison was living among them, and the atmosphere in the village darkened.
Day after day, there is no substantive news about how other places in Crete are, but there are many rumors.For example, a small Allied force is moving east toward Sitia.One night, just after dark, four British soldiers, so disguised that they could not be distinguished, came down from the mountain. They had been sleeping in the abandoned shepherd's hut, and wandered carelessly into the village.If they were in a small village in their own country, they certainly would not have received such a warm welcome.The villagers are not only eager to learn more first-hand information, they are inherently hospitable and believe that every stranger is sent by God.These few soldiers were treated with the best hospitality.They ate and drank, but only one of the four spoke Greek well, and he brought with him a first-hand account of what had happened in the northern bays last week.
"We never expected them to come from the air - certainly not that many," he said. "Everyone thought they would come from the sea. A lot of people were killed on the spot, but most of them were safe. Land and form your squad." The young British soldier hesitated.Knowingly unwise, he added: "However, there are a few others who caused their deaths."
He spoke humanely, but when he continued to explain, some villagers paled.
"Some wounded German soldiers were hacked to death," he said, staring at his beer mug. "It was the local villagers."
Another soldier took out a folded piece of paper from his breast pocket, spread it out carefully, and placed it on the table in front of him.Beneath the printed German were scribbled Greek and English translations.
"I think you should look at this. It's an order from the head of the Luftwaffe, General Student, a few days ago."
The villagers gathered around the table, looking at what was written on the paper.
There is evidence that the people of Crete are responsible for mutilating and murdering our wounded.We will immediately begin revenge and punishment.
I hereby specifically authorize all troops who have suffered atrocities to carry out the following orders:
1. Shoot the murderer;
2. Destroy entire villages;
3. If there is a village harboring criminals, eliminate all male villagers in that village.
There is no need for a court martial to pass judgment on the aforementioned assassins of our troops.
"Destroy all the male villagers", this sentence jumped out of the paper, the villagers were dead silent, only the sound of their breathing could be heard; but how long will it take for them to breathe freely?
The British broke their silence: "The Germans had never before encountered such tenacious resistance as Crete. It took them by surprise. Resistance came not only from men, but also from women, children, and even priests. What they expected Total and total surrender, yours, the Allies. But it is only fair to you to be warned in advance. They have brutally disposed of several villages to the west, razing them to the ground - even churches and schools I didn't let it go."
The whole room immediately became noisy, and he could not continue.
"Can we resist them?" Pavros Angelopoulos yelled over the din.
"Yes." More than forty men shouted.
"Fight to the death!" roared Angelopoulos.
"Fight to the death!" the crowd responded.
Although Germans rarely venture out after dark, the men take turns on duty outside the bar.They talked until midnight, until the air was full of smoke and the empty plum wine bottles stood like a silver forest.British soldiers knew that if they were found in daylight, they would be dead.They set off before dawn and left.From now on, they are going to hide.Tens of thousands of Allied troops had withdrawn to Alexandria a few days earlier, and those who remained had to avoid capture by the Germans if they wanted to engage in important intelligence activities.The party went on to Sitia, where the Italians had landed and occupied it.
In the eyes of the British, farewells and hugs are too long and too warm for such a short meeting, but the Cretans don't think there is anything wrong with showing such unrestrained emotions.While the men were still drinking, some wives sent the soldiers grateful bags of food, too heavy for the soldiers to lift, and enough to feed them for two weeks. "Thank you, thank you." A soldier said it over and over again, and he would say it.
"It's nothing," the villagers said. "You are helping us. We should say thank you."
While the British soldiers were still in the pub, Antonis Angelopoulos, Fotini's eldest brother, sneaked away and went home to pack a few things: a sharp knife, a woolen blanket, a change of shirt And his gun—a small pistol his father had given him when he was eighteen.At the last minute, he grabbed a wooden flute that had always been on the same shelf as his father's most beloved and beautiful lyre, the Chiapolis, which he had played since he was a child, since he didn't know When he can go home again, he can't leave it behind.
Antonis was about to buckle up when Savina appeared at the door.Everyone in Plaka has been having trouble sleeping for the past few days, all of them are alert, rising from their beds every now and then, unsettled by anxiety, bright flashes in the sky telling them that enemy bombs are hitting their villages and cities.How could they sleep when they thought their home would be torn apart by the bombardment and heard the harsh sounds of German soldiers living across the street?Savina had been a sleepless night, easily awakened by the sound of footsteps on the hard floor and the scraping of the pistol as it was lifted from its rough wall hook.Most importantly, Antonis didn't want his mother to run into him, who might stop him.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm going to help them. I want to lead the way for the soldiers—they can't survive a day on the mountain without someone who knows the terrain." Antonis enthusiastically defended his actions, thinking he would face strong opposition from his mother. .To his surprise, however, he found his mother nodding in agreement.Although she still wanted to protect him instinctively, she knew it was right to do so.
"You're right," she said calmly. "It's our duty to support them as best we can."
Savina hugged her son.He left, hurrying over, fearing that the four had left the village and missed them.
"Be safe." Savina murmured to his shadow, even though he might be out of hearing. "Promise me you'll stay safe."
Antonis ran back to the bar.Now the soldiers are standing in the square, saying their final farewells.He quickened his pace and caught up with them.
"I'm going to be your guide," he told them, "and you'll have to know where the caves are, where the crevasses are, and where the canyons are. For on your own you'll be dead. I can tell you how to survive—in Find bird eggs, edible berries, and water in places you least expect."
The soldiers said thanks again, and the soldier who could speak Greek took a step forward, "It's very dangerous outside. We have paid a heavy price to understand it many times. We are so grateful to you."
Pavroth stood back, as awed by his elder son's devotion as his wife was, but also admiring.He had raised his two sons to learn about the land, and he knew that Antonys knew the knowledge that would help soldiers survive as goats survive on bare soil.Antonis knew what was poisonous and what was nutritious; he even knew what kind of bush tobacco was best.Proud of his son's courage and struck by his almost innocent enthusiasm, Pavroth hugged him.Then, when the five were almost out of sight, he turned and went home, knowing that Savina was waiting for him.
Giorgis told Irene all this when he visited her the next day.
"Poor Savina!" she said hoarsely, "she's going to die."
"Someone had to do it—the young man was ready for a risk," Giorgis replied lightly, trying to make Antonis's departure seem as easy as possible.
"But how long is he going?"
"Nobody knows. That's like asking how long this war will last."
They looked across the Channel at Plaka.There were a few figures moving around the water's edge in the docklands, doing what they did every day.From this distance, everything seems normal.No one knew that Crete was an isolated island occupied by enemies.
"Have the Germans caused trouble?" Eleni asked.
"You don't feel their presence at all," Giorgis replied. "They patrol up and down during the day, but at night, they are nowhere to be seen. Yet we still feel watched all the time."
The last thing Giorgis wanted was for Eleni to feel threatened.He changed the subject.
"But what about you, Eleni?"
Elaine's health began to deteriorate, the scars on her face had spread, and her voice had become hoarse.
"I have a sore throat," she admitted, "but I believe it's just a cold. Tell me about the girls."
Giorgis could see that she wanted to change the subject.He understood not to question her health any more.
"Anna seems a little happier. She works hard at her studies, but she doesn't like doing housework very much. In fact, she is more lazy than before. She only washes her own dishes. Let her do Maria's? Don't even think about it! I I almost don't want to nag and scold her anymore—"
"You shouldn't let her go, you know," Eleni interrupted him, "this way her habits will get worse and worse, and it will put too much pressure on Maria."
"I know that. Maria looks calm now. I think she's more occupied than Ana."
"She's had enough upheavals in her life, poor child," Eleni said.At times like these, she felt guilty thinking of her daughters growing up without her.
"It's strange," she said, "that the war has had almost no effect on us here. I feel more alone than before. I can't even share the danger with you." Her calm voice trembled, and she tried to keep herself out of her husband's presence. collapse.But it didn't work.It didn't help at all.
"We're not in danger, Eleni."
Of course, he was lying.Antonis was not the only local young man who joined the resistance organization. Even if he was slightly suspected of being a spy, the Germans' methods were so brutal that it was appalling, and the villagers in Plaka were terrified.But life went on as it should be, and the daily tasks had to be done, and besides those that changed with the seasons.Towards the end of summer, grapes had to be crushed; autumn came, to harvest olives; all year round, goats had to be milked, cheeses were churned, and cloth was weaved.The sun rises; the moon hangs in the night sky, shedding silver brilliance; the stars blink, indifferent to everything that happens in the world.
Yet tensions and fears of atrocities remained in the air.Resistance in Crete became more organized, and several more people from the village disappeared to join the unfolding war.This makes people feel that life will change drastically sooner or later.Some of these villages were the targets of the most brutal reprisals when they became known to the Germans because they had become members of the Resistance.
One day in early 1942, a group of children came home from school.Among them were Anna and Maria, who walked along the water's edge and had a long way to go home.
"Look!" cried Maria, "look—it's snowing!"
The snow hadn't fallen a few weeks ago, and sooner or later the snow on the top of the mountain will thaw.What are the white things flying around them?
Maria was the first to discover the truth.It wasn't snow falling from the sky, it was paper, and just now, a small plane rumbled overhead, but they didn't lift their heads, because German planes often fly low along the coastline in this area. Distribute a lot of leaflets.When a leaflet floated toward Anna, she grabbed it.
"Look at this," she said, "it's from the Germans." They gather around to read the leaflet.
The leaflets continued to float down, and the ground seemed to be covered with a white carpet.The leaflets twirled beneath their feet and fell into the sea, melting into the foamy spray.The children stood there silently.
"We've got to take some home to show Mom and Dad," suggested one kid, grabbing a handful before the flyers flew off. "We need to remind them." They struggled to move on, their pockets were full of leaflets, and their hearts were pounding with fear.
Other villages were also targeted and warned, but the effect was not what the Germans hoped.
"Are you crazy?" Anna said.Giorgis, on the other hand, read the flyer and shrugged. "How can you be so inconsiderate? These members of the resistance movement are just out for their own little adventure and don't take all of our lives seriously!"
Maria retreated into the corner of the room.She sensed that the volcano was about to erupt.Giorgis took a deep breath, trying to hold back the anger that wanted to tear his daughter to pieces.
"Do you really think they're just for themselves? Frozen to death in caves, grazing like animals! How can you say that!"
Anna curled up in a ball.She liked to stir up trouble, but she had rarely seen her father so angry.
"You don't hear their stories," my father went on, "you don't see them stumbling into the bar in the dead silence of the night, almost starving. Their shoes are worn out and as thin as onion skins, and they Skinny, with the bones in the face almost poking through the skin! They are for you, Anna, and for me and Maria."
"And our mother," Maria said quietly from the corner.
Everything Giorgis said was true.In winter, when the high mountaintops were covered with snow and the wind whistled around the twisted honey holly, members of the Resistance nearly froze to death; they retreated to alpine caves far from their villages, where the only drinkable It is the water dripping from the stalactites, and some people have almost reached the limit of endurance.In summer, when the weather was unbearably hot, they endured intense heat, and once the creek dried up, they had to endure unquenchable hunger and thirst.
Such leaflets will only strengthen the resolve of the Cretan people to resist.There is no doubt that no one surrendered here, they would rather take the risk.The Germans were showing up in Plaka with increasing regularity, going door-to-door searching for things related to the Resistance, such as radio sets, and interrogating the bar owner, Vanglith Ridaki, who was the only male in the village during the day.The other men who worked were either on the mountain or in the sea.The Germans did not come out at night, which aroused the attention of the Cretans; the Germans were afraid to move around after dark, they were very suspicious of the difficult rocky terrain of the island, and they also knew that they were vulnerable to attack after dark .
One night in September, Giorgis and Pavroth were sitting in their usual corner of the bar when three strangers entered.The two raised their heads and glanced casually, and soon resumed chatting, beating rhythmically with rosary beads in their hands.Before the Occupation and the Resistance, outsiders were rarely seen in the village, but now they are not uncommon.A stranger walked up to them.
"Dad." He said quietly.
Pavros raised his head and opened his mouth in surprise.It was Antonis, he could barely recognize, not the boyish young man he had enlisted in the army with an ideal in mind a year earlier.His clothes were hanging on him, and the belt was looped twice around his waist to keep the trousers in place.
When Savina, Fotini and Angelos arrived, Pavros's face was still wet.Ridake's son was hastily sent to call them to the bar.This is the kind of reunion of people who love each other, those who have never been apart for a day in their lives.They were both happy and sad when they saw Antonis, looking starved and emaciated, not just a year older but almost ten years older than when they last saw him.Antonis came in with two Englishmen.However, their identities cannot be seen at all from their appearance.Dark complexion and exaggerated beards - this is what they learned from the local style and curled up. Now they have learned Greek well and can communicate with the locals.They told stories of meeting enemy soldiers, disguised as shepherds, and played tricks on them, convincing the enemy that they were Cretans.They have crossed Crete several times over the past year.One of their tasks is to observe the actions of the Italian army.The headquarters of the Italian army is located in Naples, the largest town in the enemy-occupied area of Lasithi, where the army seems to have nothing to do except to eat and drink, especially to have fun with the local prostitutes.But other armies were stationed on the west side of the island, and their defenses were difficult to monitor.
When the trio's shrinking stomachs were full of lamb stew, chicordia, and dizzy from wine, they began to tell long stories well into the night.
"Your son is a fine cook," an Englishman told Savina. "No one can make his kind of acorn bread."
“And thyme stewed snails!” joked another.
"No wonder you're all so skinny," Savina replied. "Before Antonis left, he couldn't do anything but potatoes."
"Antonis, tell 'em the time we teased the Germans, they thought we were brothers," said one, and the evening went by, their fears and anxieties now entertaining.The lyre was brought out from behind the bar and everyone sang.It was martinas, the English people who had learned to sing about love and death, struggle and freedom, heart and song all fused together, to whom their Cretan hosts owed them so much.
Antonis spent the night with his family, and the two Brits stayed with those willing to take the risk.For the first time in a year I haven't slept on a hard surface.They had to go before dawn, and the luxury of straw mattresses was short lived. After putting on their boots and fringed turbans, they left the village.Even locals do not suspect that they are native Cretans.Nothing could give away their identities.Nothing is possible unless someone betrays the informant.
By now, the hunger on Crete had become so severe that it was now and then heard that locals went to inform the German resistance fighters for the so-called "German drachmas".Extreme hunger can crush those who are honest, and this betrayal leads to the most brutal wars, massacres, and the destruction of entire villages.The old, the weak, the sick, and the disabled were burned alive on their beds, and men were forced to surrender their weapons and then shot to death in a pool of blood.The danger of betrayal was real, and for Antonis and his party, family visits were limited to occasional visits, for their presence might endanger those they loved the most.
Throughout the war, the only place truly untouched by the Germans was Spinalonga, where lepers were spared the worst of all diseases: occupation.Leprosy may disrupt family and friends, but the Germans were more effective at destroying everything they encountered.
One consequence of the occupation was that Nikolaos Kritis immediately stopped his trip to Plaka, as unnecessary travel to and from Heraklion would arouse the suspicion of the occupying forces.As a last resort, he had to temporarily put down his research; in Heraklion, there were many dead and wounded around him who needed to be taken care of, which could not be ignored.The aftermath of the insane invasion was that anyone with any medical knowledge would find themselves running around tending to the disabled, bandaging, splinting, and treating symptoms of dysentery, tuberculosis, and malaria, which were common in hospitals.When Nicholas Kritis came back from the hospital at night, he was so exhausted that, in this anxious time, he could hardly remember that a leper had ever been the object of his efforts.
The inability of Dr. Crittis to come is probably the biggest negative effect of the war on the residents of Spinalonga.During the months of his weekly visits, they had a glimmer of hope for the future.Now, again, the only thing they can be sure of is the present.
Giorgis travels to and from the island more regularly than ever.He soon discovered that the Athenians had as little trouble buying luxuries as before the war broke out, but they had to pay the rapidly rising prices.
"Look," Giorgis said one evening as he and his friends sat mending fishing nets by the pier, "I've got so many questions that I'm a bit silly. They can afford to pay me, so there's no question about how they can afford the black market Buying something at the price, what else do I doubt?"
"But many people around here only have a handful of flour left." A fisherman protested.
All the talk in the bar was envy of the wealth of the Athenians.
"Why should they eat better than we do?" Pavloth asked. "How can they afford chocolate and fine tobacco?"
"They have money, that's why," Giorgis said, "even though they're not free."
"Freedom!" Li Daki sneered, "you call this freedom? Freedom means that our country was occupied by the brutal Germans, our young people were bloody suppressed, and the old people were burned to death in their beds? Free!" he said, pointing towards Spinalonga.
Giorgis knew it was useless to argue with them, so he said nothing more.Even friends who knew Eleni well sometimes forgot that she was on the island.Sometimes, he gets a clumsy apology from them.Only he and Dr. Lapakis knew the truth, and he knew he only knew half of it.All he saw were tunnel entrances and towering walls, but he had heard many stories from Eleni.
The last time he had been there, Eleni had gotten worse.First, the unsightly lump spread to the back of the chest, and the scariest thing was the face.Now her voice was getting muffled, and though he thought it was emotion sometimes, he knew it wasn't all about it.She said she felt a constriction in her throat and agreed to see Dr. Lapakis for some medicine.In the meantime, she tries to be happy with Giorgis, lest he go home sour to the girls.
Giorgis knew the disease was consuming her, and she, like most of the lepers on the island, was desperate, whether penniless or rich.
The men who mended fishing nets with Giorgis, the men who passed the time playing chess and cards in the bar, were friends he had grown up with.If he hadn't been separated from his loved ones on Spinalonga, he'd be as paranoid as they were.These factors in his life gave him a sympathy they could never have.He'll control his emotions, forgive their ignorance, and that's it.
Giorgis continues to deliver packages to the island.Even if the contents of the package were obtained illegally, what did he care about?If they were as rich as the Athenians, wouldn't they buy the best?He longed to buy his daughters something that only a man on Spinalonga could afford.For his part, he intended to send the best fish he caught—as soon as Anna and Maria had had their fill—to the leprosy colony.Why shouldn't they have his best sea bream or sea bass?These people are sick and thrown out of society, but they are not criminals.It's easy for people in Plaka to forget this.
The Germans feared Spinalonga across the water because hundreds of lepers lived there and they approved the continued delivery of supplies because the last thing they wanted was for the lepers to leave Spina Longo came to Crete to find something to eat.However, some of them do so anyway, looking for an opportunity to escape.It was the late summer of 1943, and the Italian truce brought large numbers of Germans to La Sitt.
One afternoon, around four or five o'clock, Fotini, Anna, Maria and five or six children were playing on the beach as usual.The latter were so used to having German soldiers around that they would not have noticed them patrolling the sea.
"Let's do nothing." A boy suggested.
"Okay, count from one to twenty!" replied another.
There was no shortage of smooth, flat stones on the shore, and soon their stones were flying across the water, bouncing lightly across the still water, all trying to achieve something that would show them off.
Suddenly a boy shouted at them all: "Stop! Stop! There's someone there!"
He was right.A figure swam over from the island.The German soldier saw it too, and he watched with folded hands in contempt.孩子们上下跳着，朝游泳者叫着，让他回去，他们预料到了可怕的后果。
“他在做什么？”玛丽娅叫道，“难道他不知道他会被杀死吗？”
那个麻风病人的前进速度很慢，可并没有放弃。他要么是没有发现士兵的存在，要么就打算冒险——无论怎样这意味着自杀——因为他无法再忍受隔离区的生活。孩子们继续扯着嗓子喊，可是在德国士兵举枪开火的那一刻，他们全害怕得不吭声了。德国兵等着那人游到离岸边只有五十米的时候，才开枪。这是一场冷血的处决。一次打靶练习。战争时期，关于流血或枪决的故事到处流传，可孩子们从来没亲眼见过。那一刻他们看到了故事与现实的不同。一颗子弹飞过水面，后面大山里传来子弹呼啸而过的回声。一片殷红色在平静的大海上慢慢洇开。
安娜在孩子们中年龄最大，她尖叫着咒骂那个士兵：“你这个畜生！你这个德国畜生！”
几个小一点的孩子惊恐得哭了。这是纯真失去的泪水。到现在，有几十人从家里冲出来，看到孩子们挤在一起，抽泣流泪。正好在那个礼拜，布拉卡收到传闻，敌人采取了新策略：无论什么时候，一旦怀疑有游击队员的袭击，他们就会把村子里所有小女孩抓走当作人质。村民们知道孩子们的安全没有保障，他们起初以为，沙滩下几米开外的那个孤单的士兵可以随便向某个孩子实行某种暴行。虽然没有武器，他们却准备把他撕成碎片。可是德国兵极力保持沉着，面向大海，朝着小岛做了个挑战性的手势。尸体早就看不见了，可一大片殷红还漂在水面上，像一层浮油。
安娜，一直是领头的，从痛哭的伙伴中分身出来，冲着焦虑的大人们喊道：“一个麻风病人！”
村民们立即明白，转身从德国士兵那里离开。现在他们的态度变了，有些人根本不会为麻风病人的死活操心，有些人还是留了下来。家长们赶紧看看他们的孩子有没有受伤。士兵不见了。受害者和他的一切痕迹也都不见了。
然而，吉奥吉斯觉得不那么轻松。他对斯皮纳龙格居民绝没有那么淡漠。那晚，当他驾着那艘破旧的小划艇过海时，伊莲妮告诉他被残酷杀害的麻风病人是个名叫尼可斯的年轻人。吉奥吉斯才知道他经常趁着天黑得伸手不见五指时，冒险从岛上溜走，去看望妻子和孩子。据说他死的那天是他孩子三岁的生日，他只想在傍晚前再见他一次。
布拉卡岸上的孩子们不是尼可斯的唯一观众，对岸斯皮纳龙格上也有一群人在看着他。没有什么规定或制度能让人们不产生这种傻念头，当他们心血来潮，一时冲动做出这种疯狂的举动时，很少有丈夫、妻子或爱人来拉他们一把。尼可斯像一个饥饿的人，他的饥饿控制着他的每一个想法，占据着他清醒时的分分秒秒。他渴望妻子的陪伴，更想看看自己的儿子，他的血肉，那没有伤疤、没有斑痕的少年形象，是他小时候的翻版。他用生命为这个愿望付出了代价。
那晚，小岛上悼念尼可斯。人们在教堂为他祈祷，即使没有尸体可以安葬，还是为他举办了守灵夜。在斯皮纳龙格，死亡从来不会被忽略。这儿与克里特岛上其他的地方一样庄严地对待死亡。
经过这场事故，佛提妮、安娜和玛丽娅，以及一起玩耍的其他孩子，从那天之后便生活在焦虑的乌云之下。在那片温暖的鹅卵石上，他们曾度过了那么多无忧无虑又幸福的孩提时光，然而在那一刻，一切都变了。
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Notes: