Searching for Sofia, page 30
Chapter 28
It seemed that the whole of the village of Astikas turned out for the farewell dinner that was held for Jack, Leo and Danny the night before their departure; and with sadness Jack said his goodbyes, promising that after the war was over, he would return to the village one day.
Before he left, he made up two packages. The first was a flat bundle of a dozen oil paintings that he’d spent the last few weeks working on each morning, outside the cave. They included images of the village, including the games of cricket and the evenings where they’d gathered around Marita’s dinner table and shared meals. He’d painted a scene of the shed at sunset, with an outline of three soldiers furtively entering its back door, and one of the cave where an old woman stood at the front beside a donkey. Each painting held the symbol that served as Jack’s signature—the image of the southern cross amid its lines and shapes.
‘Hide them for now, Marita,’ he told her. ‘Keep them until after the war, when it is safe to display them. They are mementos of our stay here. The boys and I will never forget how you have cared for us, kept us safe for the past twelve months.’
The second parcel included his metal cylinder—now full of loose-paged sketches—and three drawing books, also full. While they were rough, the hundreds of pieces provided a visual record of his time in Greece: of their evacuation in Kalamata, and the disembarkation at Suda Bay. In his months of boredom in the cave, he’d recreated the battle on 42nd Street and their long walk to Sphakia from memory, and more recently he’d added sketches of their life in the cave and around the village. Should he ever be called to paint his experiences for the army, these sketches would prompt his recollection of events. While he’d been lucky to hold the cylinder and those early drawings despite the sinking of the Costa Rica and the battles on Crete, he didn’t want to take a chance of losing them on the trek across the island and back to Alexandria; and although he didn’t like to think about it, there was always the chance that he’d be caught by the Germans or even killed.
‘I have included the address, Marita, but don’t worry about sending them anytime soon. If you could just hide them somewhere until the end of the war, that would be wonderful.’
* * *
Finally, the moment arrived for them to be on their way. As Jack farewelled his Cretan friends, he hoped that no German soldiers would visit Astikas over the next few days. Anticipation of their journey had captured the villagers’ imaginations; their excitement was palpable and would surely raise suspicions. The young shepherds left first, and George and Michael were about to depart with their uncle. Jack looked at Danny as they waited for Leo at the end of the roadway. They were to set off in about thirty minutes. Could he have made a last-minute decision to remain behind? Jack wondered. However, Leo eventually appeared, accompanied by Theresa, and the first thing Jack noticed was a gold chain peeping from beneath his shirt—no doubt a parting gift from the woman he’d fallen in love with.
Jack smiled back at the villagers and gave a final wave. At last, something was happening! In a few weeks they would be off the island and he could find Sofia.
* * *
Jack was glad of Leo’s insistence that they undertake an exercise routine in preparation before they left, for by the end of the first day—after climbing steep banks and walking paths that meandered in all directions, ascending and descending one mountain ridge after the next—he was beyond tired, and thankful when they finally collapsed in a vacant shepherd’s hut that smelled more suitable for sheep than humans.
Each day was the same: relentless walking, with frequent interceptions from the smiling runners, who advised them of changes in direction or a hut for them to rest in for the night. The boys seemed to have boundless energy as they ran up and down the mountains, delivering souvlaki, fruit and cheese pastries which they’d purchased or acquired from the network of Greek resistance spread across the island. For company, most nights they had only themselves and the kohli gatherers moving in rows along the hills, distinctive for their bobbing lamps in the distance. Occasionally, they met with those who’d provided them with shelter for the night and shared a meal and a stilted exchange of information. Few of the Cretans they met spoke English, but their welcoming greetings and broad smiles offered reassurance that the Cretan resistance movement was achieving pleasing results. After ten days of walking, Jack, Leo and Danny were taken to a farmhouse at the end of a long day. There, they enjoyed a pleasant meal with a man called Demetrios and his wife, Evanthia, who greeted them warmly.
The couple lived in the mountains, where they raised quite a large herd of goats as well as two small children, a little boy, Pétros, who was four years old, and their daughter, Maria, who was just crawling. Like the other places Jack, Danny and Leo had stayed, they learned that they weren’t their first visitors. Demetrios and Evanthia, who spoke English very well, told them that they’d frequently offered their shed to Allied soldiers to hide in, as they moved across the island. It was from Demetrios that they learned more details about the Greek resistance that was operating in the southern end of the island; how it was being led by the Doundoulakis boys, who they saw as heroes for their efforts to support the Allied soldiers that had been hiding on the island over the past year. Jack was amazed to learn that the brothers were in direct collaboration with the British SOE—a Special Operations Executive, which Churchill had established to liaise with resistance groups, and whose operations included rescue missions to bring the allies who remained hidden in the mountains of Crete off the island. It seemed that they hadn’t been abandoned by the allied administration, after all.
After a meal of moussaka, hummus and yoghurt, they were shown to the shed to the left of the house, which provided clean comfortable conditions for them to sleep. Demetrios showed them the loose cladding at the back of the shed, designed to allow for a quick exit, should German soldiers appear to search the farm, as they’d done from time to time. If such an occasion arose, he told them they must scramble through the opening and make their way to the wood heap a few dozen yards away, and then to the gully below, that would lead them downhill to the edge of a forest. From there, they needed to turn left; make their way along the forest edge in an easterly direction.
In no time at all, Jack fell into a heavy sleep. The next morning, however, he was woken early by the sound of German voices ringing across the yard. Exactly the circumstances that Demetrios had prepared them for!
‘Where are they?’
‘Who do you want? We are all here! What are you asking this for?
‘The British! They have been here!’
‘What British? There are no British here, look around and you will see for yourselves!’ The volume of Demetrios’ outraged response was undoubtedly meant as a warning to the soldiers hiding in his shed, and Jack, Leo and Danny grabbed their packs, ready to lunge through the gap in the wall, and retreat to the woodstack at the first opportunity.
Before leaving, Jack peered through the side of the shed door where he could see a motorcycle, complete with side car, parked near the front entrance of the farmhouse, and the backs of two German soldiers speaking with Demetrios. Leo peered over Jack’s shoulder to see what was happening, before pointing to the exit at the rear. Jack nodded, agreeing that they should make their move immediately, for who knew if the soldiers would decide to search the property.
As they prepared to leave, they looked at each other as chilling words from one soldier were followed by screams from Evanthia.
‘Tell me now—where are they?’
Putting his fingers to his lips, Jack returned to the door, where through the crack he saw Pétros being held in the firm grip of one of the now red-faced German soldiers. His whimpering cries drifted across the yard.
Fury swept through Jack. He gestured for Danny and Leo to leave without him, waving his arm in a circular motion, indicating for them to take a position at the side of the house. Understanding his intentions, they slid through the gap in the wall; and from there, they sprinted to the side of the house, while Jack raised his rifle in readiness.
When they reached the cover of the farmhouse, Jack clanged the door open and stepped forward, his .303 held aloft.
‘Leave them!’ he roared. ‘These people don’t know that I’ve been camping here at night. It’s been cold. I was just needing shelter.’
As Jack had expected, his outburst surprised the soldiers, who swung towards him. He levelled his rifle at their faces, praying that should he fire, his aim would be steady.
‘Put down your gun!’ the taller man screeched.
‘You release that child first—then, I will put down my gun!’ Jack’s words carried the force of his anger, and when he cocked the trigger of his gun, its click echoed across the yard.
The taller soldier nodded at the other, and Jack watched Pétros stumble into Evanthia’s arms and be pulled through the door.
As it slammed behind the family, the taller of the Germans raised his gun towards Jack, and without thought, Jack squeezed the trigger of his own weapon.
The sound of two loud cracks echoed in his ears, and a sharp pain tore through his left shoulder. He lurched backwards just as Danny and Leo burst from the side of the house, guns aloft, and he heard them releasing a barrage of bullets and hoped that they would be alright.
Within seconds, they were at Jack’s side, prodding at the injury that had bright red blood seeping through his ragged shirt. Demetrios and Evanthia appeared behind them.
‘Quick, Jack, you must get up. Let me see your shoulder.’ Evanthia’s words prompted the men into action, and they lifted him to his feet where he clutched his left arm and followed her into the house, stepping over the body of the taller of the German which now lay slumped beside the one Jack had hit, and he listened as Evanthias spoke sharply to her husband. ‘Demetrios, hurry! Take care of them!'
Stepping through the doorway, Jack almost tripped.
‘You are weak, Jack. You’re bleeding heavily. Sit here and I will get you some rum.’
As Evanthia tended to his shoulder, all the while thanking him for saving her son, Jack watched out the window as Danny, Leo and Demetrios dragged the lifeless bodies of the Germans across the yard. It was a nasty gash, and knowing that a bullet was lodged in Jack’s shoulder, Evanthia considered aloud whether she should try to remove it. She probed the wound, apologising for the pain she was causing.
‘Jack, I am going to have to leave the bullet. It has lodged deep in your shoulder. I fear that I will add to the damage if I dig around too much. For now, I will pack the wound to stop the bleeding, and then I will bandage it. When you get to Prevali, they will see that you get some medical attention.’
Jack nodded. He was happy for Evanthia to proceed as she saw fit. In truth, he was too dazed by the events of the last few minutes and the loss of blood to care what happened to his shoulder.
‘Are you alright mate? We must get moving. If we stay around here, anything could happen,’ Leo called from the doorway, and Jack knew that he was right. As much as he wanted to lie down and sleep, another group of German soldiers could appear at any minute. To stay in the house was to put Evanthia and Demetrios at terrible risk.
Evanthia rummaged through her cupboard, filling a bag with food for them to take, whilst Demetrios gave instructions.
‘You must go this way,’ Demetrios pointed towards the back of their property. ‘If you follow those trees to the right for about two miles—see there, at that point where they dip— you will find a pathway leading down the valley. Wait at that point; hide in the bushes to the left of the path. I will get word to your escort party, and they will come and collect you. In a few days you will reach Prevali—once there, you will be safe. The abbot is an extraordinary man. He will look after you!’
Jack tried to ignore the burning in his shoulder as they made their way towards the trees and turned to the right, as Demetrios had instructed. There was no path, but rather dense forest. Weaving through the trees, and keeping the open fields to the right in sight, it took them almost an hour to travel the mere two miles to the dip, where a small creek flowed with crystal clear water. Without thinking, they crossed the stream and continued along the path, and before they knew it, found themselves on the verge of entering a busy thoroughfare, largely a bush track, but wide enough to take vehicles; and within minutes a jeep load of Germans careered into sight. Deciding that this was the junction which Demetrios had advised them to wait, they returned to the stream and sought shelter under the trees to the side of the track, glad for the bread and cheese that Evanthia had given them, before settling deeper in the cover of the bushes to rest.
Two hours later Jack woke to a sense of throbbing in his shoulder, and a short sharp whistling sound in his ears. He peeped through the bushes to see George looking bewildered in the clearing.
‘Oh, thank God! There you are! Michael and I have been scouring the bushes a hundred yards farther down the track. Uncle is up at the next village resting. The boys couldn’t find you, so Michael and I came back for you.’
‘Sorry, mate,’ Leo spoke for them. ‘It’s been a big night. We’ve been hiding in here waiting for you. I guess we fell asleep!’
‘What is that, Jack? You’ve been injured! Is that a gunshot wound?’ George’s alarm at the sight of the bandage on Jack’s shoulder was evident, and he and Michael launched into a conversation in Greek, their concerns for Jack’s wound apparently impacting on their plan. Turning to Jack, George explained.
‘Jack, this is very serious. If the Germans see you, they will be very angry. They are not fools. A gunshot wound will only mean one thing to them!’
‘Yes, especially if they link it to the two bodies, buried under the wood heap back there!’ Danny’s information had the overtones of a braggart, and Jack knew that for as minuscule as the victory was in the grand scheme of the thousands of Germans who’d invaded Crete, they’d all been thrilled to have had the opportunity to knock a couple of Germans off their perches before they left the island. George and Michael were less impressed.
‘What! There are dead German soldiers!’ Again they conspired, their faces grave, as they considered the situation.
‘This is very serious! German patrols may be looking for you this very minute. We have to go!’
‘Come, I will check the intersection, and will call for you when it is clear. You will see me ahead... I will point to the right, there is a track that you must follow. Michael and I will stay on the high road, you take the low track. We cannot afford for Germans to make a connection between us, lest they know we are leading you across the island... come on, this way! We have a long way to go today.’
George went first, waiting for a quiet moment to signal to them that it was safe to cross the intersection, and as they crossed and meandered along the track, they found he had waited for them. Jack listened as he pointed out a distant ridge where a church’s steeple marked the village where they’d regroup for dinner, explaining how one of the runners would await their arrival in the woods behind the church and inform them of where they should camp for the night. George then pointed out the track to the right, apologising to them that their route would be long and difficult, but explaining that it was the best option, given the possibility that German soldiers were looking for them.
It was nightfall before they finally arrived at the village where they were quickly shown to a shed with a clean floor and a small canvas sack of bread, cooked lentils and potatoes. However, it was all Jack could do to stagger through the door, and drop to the ground, where he fell into a deep sleep without taking a bite.
* * *
Unlike the hospitality they'd enjoyed at Evanthia and Demetrios’ home, the following week consisted of long days of walking through forests or narrow ridges, or separating as they crept across open fields, regrouping under the cover of foliage before continuing their journey. The days were warm and some nights were spent sleeping outdoors, other nights in shepherd’s huts or wood sheds at the back of farms where bags of fruit, loaves of bread and pies were left for them, but rarely did they speak to anybody. After almost three weeks of walking, they were in a state of constant exhaustion, and Jack’s shoulder throbbed continuously, but he said nothing, for what was there to do but get to Prevali, where perhaps he could get some medicine to relieve the pain, and some fresh bandages. Mindlessly, he followed the steps of the others, concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other throughout the long days, before collapsing into dreamless sleep at night.
And when, after walking for a number of hours on a fine sunny morning, a blanket of glorious blue sea opened up before them, he, Leo and Danny stood gaping in astonishment. Small colourful vessels could be seen–fishing boats, they assumed—bobbing on the rolling swell of the ocean’s surface. After weeks of trekking along forest tracks and crossing rocky fields, they’d finally arrived at the southern end of the island! With renewed energy and a burst of excitement, they scrambled along their path which now fell away into an almost vertical descent, and the narrow tracks they walked became a series of zigging and zagging stretches across the cliff face. Halfway down, they reached an outcrop of rocks, from where they could see a cluster of buildings nestled against the cliff below. They had reached Preveli!
Chapter 29
As they followed the stony path that meandered down the cliff to the beach, Jack couldn’t believe his eyes. Amid the village, the Preveli Monastery was unmistakable—a large fortress like, clay-coloured construction with an extensive array of courtyards connected by walkways and stairs, that appeared to be built directly into the rocky cliff-face. Arriving at the foot of a stone stairwell, they were greeted by a tall heavily bearded man with piercing eyes, who introduced himself as Abbot Agathagelos, and offered them a warm welcome. He beckoned for them to follow him into a large room with a number of tables, and showed them to a bench where a pot of lamb stew emitted an enticing aroma, and crusty bread looked inviting. Additionally, there were dates, fruit, salad, cheese and wine, and he encouraged them to take their fill.
