Cave of Silence

by Kostas Krommydas

  Both men turned toward Eleni. In a trembling voice, she asked them to let her go, first in Italian and then in Greek. She tried to move to the door. Both men laughed and blocked her way. She could smell the alcohol on their breath from where she stood and fully understood what their intentions were. She slowly started to back off, trying to put the school desks between her and the advancing men. The soldiers split up and circled around the desks, hunters stalking their prey. She found herself with her back pressed against the wall, trembling, trapped. One of the men violently grabbed her breast and she let out a piercing scream. She tried to run once more but they pinned her against the wall. She kept screaming, calling for help, hoping that the sound of the rain would not cover her cries and would alert someone, anyone.

  The sound of the door opening and a sharp German voice made the two men spin toward the door. A German officer strode into the room and the two soldiers let go of Eleni and saluted. He walked up to them and sternly shouted something in German, pointing at the door. Eleni slumped to the floor as the two men ran out of the room, tears flowing down her face, chest heaving. Her gasping breath slowing down, she raised her head and saw the German officer leaning over her, looking at her with compassion.

  He seemed to be around thirty, tall, blond, and very neat. His uniform was new and decorated with sparkling medals. He appeared embarrassed at what had just happened.

  Feeling braver, Eleni stood up and smoothed down her dress, drying her tears. She had never seen him before. He must have been one of the latest arrivals.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, still in shock.

  “Sprechen Sie Deutsch?” he asked.

  She understood the question and shook her head no.

  “Parla Italiano?” he persisted, trying to find some way to communicate.

  Eleni looked at him puzzled and mumbled that yes, she spoke Italian. His face lit up and the words flowed. “Allow me to introduce myself and apologize for the despicable behavior of those soldiers. Captain Alexander Achermann, military filmmaker. Rest assured that they will be punished.”

  She was impressed by his politeness, his fluent Italian, and his strange post in the army. “I’m Eleni,” she said. “Thank you for your help. If it weren’t for you…”

  “I’m very sorry about what just happened,” he murmured. “I’ve only been on the island for a few days and for as long as I’m here I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I’m not trying to excuse the behavior of those two, but our soldiers are exhausted from the war and can no longer control their actions. I hope, I wish, all of this ends soon,” he added and went to close the door that was swinging in the wind.

  Eleni was surprised by his words. She didn’t think a German would say that. She watched him bend down and pick up a woolly hat that had been trampled on the floor in the hasty exit.

  “I saw the women and children running in the rain and realized something was wrong, that’s why I came,” he said, then changed the subject. “Your Italian is very good, did you learn it here?”

  “Here and I improved in Italy. I studied there for two years.”

  “Really? Me too, before the war. I spent five years in Rome. I started out in medicine, but quickly switched to what I had always wanted to study, history of art.” He looked at her with renewed interest. “What did you study?”

  “Fine Arts at the University of Pisa,” Eleni replied. She felt that he was a cultured man but still felt uneasy talking with a German officer. On the other hand, had it not been for him…

  “What a coincidence!” he exclaimed but was interrupted by the door swing open once more. Yiannis and Nikos rushed in, heavy sticks in their hands. Startled, the German officer pulled out his gun and aimed it at the intruders.

  “Don’t!” Eleni shouted in Greek and turned back to Achermann. “They are my family, they are here to help me,” she quickly exclaimed and he slowly lowered his weapon.

  Nikos was still staring at the German, agitated, stick raised with both hands. Eleni slowly walked up to him, took it, and threw it on the ground, saying, “I was attacked by two German soldiers and this man saved me.”

  Yiannis carefully examined the officer and then gave him a nod of thanks. The German put his gun back in its holster and moved toward the door, then hesitated and turned to face Eleni. “Kindly accept my regards. It was a pleasure to meet you,” he said formally, clicking his heels.

  “Thank you for everything you did and please make sure it doesn’t happen again. Not just to me, but any other woman on the island,” she replied coldly, feeling her hatred for the Germans return.

  Without another word, he walked outside and made his way back in the pouring rain. Through one of the classroom windows, Eleni watched him go and realized he had not only saved her but Yiannis and Nikos as well. If the two had burst in while the two drunken men had been there, they would all be in serious trouble, probably dead.

  “Are you okay? What did those pigs do to you?” Yiannis asked putting an arm around her shoulders.

  “Thankfully, nothing,” she replied, relieved.

  “We must be very careful from now on,” Yiannis said in a troubled voice. “It’s being rumored that the Germans are losing, badly. They are like a wounded animal now, capable of anything. We must look out. The war will be over sooner than we think.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “Be patient, I’ll soon tell you everything. Let’s go home now. I have good news for you.”

  She gave him an anxious look, waiting to hear the good news. But Yiannis said no more. He covered her shoulders with his overcoat and led her outside her old classroom. Nikos followed them, pulling the door shut behind him.

  »»»»»»»»»»»

  The small square by the port was a hive of activity; people were coming and going, some had already sat down at the long tables, and three musicians and a singer were running sound checks on a hastily assembled stage.

  I arrived on my motorbike just as a large group of German tourists stood before the war memorial and Thomas, whose coffee shop tables had now become one with the tables laid out for the festival, was trying to find a place for them to sit.

  As soon as he saw me, he waved and cheerfully called out my name. “Dimitri! Welcome! How was your day? I hope you left some water for us up in the spring!”

  “Hello Thomas,” I laughed. “I had a great day and I left some water for you!”

  He took me by the shoulder and led me to one of the central tables.

  “I see you have a lot of tourists today,” I commented.

  “Not many, just those Germans. They arrived today on a large yacht,” he replied, keeping his voice low. “They were asking me what the war memorial said. I explained and then one of them told me that his grandfather had fought in Greece, on one of our islands too! I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from telling him all the crimes they committed, here and elsewhere! Ah, Dimitri, better not think about it… The younger generation had nothing to do with it. Still, it’s not something that can be easily forgiven.”

  I listened carefully, taking note of the heavy emotion in his voice. This was not a past he had laid to rest. “I want to know what happened too, Thomas,” I said, “I care.”

  He seemed to suddenly realize that the conversation was turning very serious and resorted to his usual sense of humor to lighten the atmosphere, presenting me to the others seated at the table. “Well, in case you haven’t already met him, this is Dimitri— actor, nice guy, and can’t hold his drink. Let’s show him how it’s done here!”

  I spotted Thanasis, the ferry boat’s bartender. He smiled and gestured at the empty chair beside him. He handed me a glass of wine, then raised his glass and spoke loudly, “Cheers, you big movie-star.”

  I felt embarrassed, but raised my glass and drank. A little stilted at first, the conversation soon flowed freely and I began to feel more at ease. They were full of questions about filming and Anita. She was on my mind all the time, and while I spo
ke about her I pictured her sitting beside me. I had spoken to her on the phone, told her the story of the black horse and she had been impressed and worried. She had a photo shoot scheduled for that evening, and then was going out to dinner with the crew and the producers. Someone from the German side of production was on the island and they had to take him out.

  Ever more people were coming down to the square, the tables nearly full. The festivities were in full swing. I emptied my first glass faster than I normally would and Thanasis was ready with a refill. I had to pace myself; my alcohol tolerance was low. Not easy at a table where people were always quick to raise their glass for a toast and a ‘bottoms up’ rang out every couple of minutes. It was going to be a rough night for me.

  I retrieved my cell phone and texted Anita. This would be perfect if only you were here. I pressed send and the reply flashed on my screen almost immediately. Close your eyes and make a wish. It may come true, you never know. I smiled and, in playful jest to the universe, closed my eyes and wished it.

  The opening notes to the ballos, a local dance, rang out across the square and a high-pitched clear voice started to sing.

  Suddenly, I felt two soft hands cover my eyes. I shivered at the touch. Surprised, I was unable to move for a few seconds, welded to the spot. I knew those hands so well…how could it be?

  I removed her hands from my face and turned around in my chair, my face inches away from Anita’s. The table had fallen silent, watching the scene.

  She looked deeply into my eyes and gave me a long, lingering kiss. I was speechless with joy and surprise. I pulled her onto my lap and managed to stutter, “How? What happened?”

  I handed her the glass of wine Thanasis had been quick to fill for her, and we all raised our glasses to her. Anita was now drawing the admiring glances of everyone, including those sat at neighboring tables. Soon, Mihalis came to join us, a mischievous glint in his eye.

  Anita was filling me in on the details of her “great escape” and I watched her lips move. I couldn’t take in a word she was saying. Her presence filled me with euphoria, dispelled all my fears and anxieties. I felt intoxicated just being near her, holding her in my arms. Happy, as if I had just discovered the meaning of life.

  Still sensing everyone casting furtive glances in our direction, I suggested we go for a walk before the festival was in full swing. She jumped up from my lap, looking as eager as I was for us to spend some time alone.

  I put my arms around her and we walked away from the revelers. She kept glancing around her, barely able to contain her joy.

  We walked to the sea holding hands. Away from the lights in the square, the stars shone more brightly and seemed to multiply. Anita leaned her head on my shoulder and we stood gazing at the sky, listening to the soft moan of the waves against the shore. I gently pulled her around to face me and we looked into each other’s eyes, silently communing the emotion that overflowed inside us. I pulled her up against me and bent down to taste her lips like a thirsty traveler coming upon a spring. I had traveled far and wide to meet her.

  We abandoned ourselves to that kiss with unrestrained passion, the sounds of the square fading into silence, feeling as if we were alone in the world. Coming up for breath, our eyes met once again and we burst into laughter. It was not an unusual occurrence; I was enthralled by how easily we could share our joy, as if it were our own, secret, inside joke.

  Someone must have amped up the volume of the sound system, blasting the strains of the familiar island song I had been hearing constantly ever since I’d set foot on this island.

  Anita looked at me and said, “I like this song…”

  I was surprised that she knew it and tried to remember if it was something we had heard together before. Laughter and whistling could be heard coming from the village square. We turned toward the noise and saw that almost everyone was on their feet, dancing, as if this song was very important; a song that meant something to everyone.

  I took her hand and pulled her back toward the circle of dancers. Thomas saw us coming and let go of the hand he was holding, inviting us to join the circle. We didn’t know the steps but followed their lead. They all seemed happy but also intensely focused, almost as if the song had put them in a trance. I sang along without even realizing.

  My beautiful island girl

  Leaving these shores behind

  Leaving me alone to wander

  On a lonely isle

  The waves have come between us

  Keeping our lips apart

  I pray that you will keep

  A place for me in your heart

  My beautiful island girl

  Leaving these shores behind

  Remember I still love you

  Until the end of time…

  The Island, March 1945

  * * *

  Spring had finally arrived and the hilltops were now a sea of green, dotted with bursts of red, yellow, and pink wildflowers. The sun was just rising and drying off the morning dew on the grass as Eleni was making her way to Kryfó astride Karme. Yiannis and a few other men were waiting there. He had told her the night before that two Englishmen were arriving undercover to organize the local resistance. She was carrying food, some clothes, and blankets and kept casting furtive glances around her, trying to ensure she was not being followed.

  The situation on the island was rapidly deteriorating and they all had to be very careful. The Germans had discovered a gun in the house of a local fisherman and promptly executed the man in front of his wife and children. Had it not been for Captain Achermann, she’d been told, they would have executed the entire family. Apparently, he had managed to dissuade the commanding officer from giving that order at the very last minute.

  The occupiers had issued a decree that all weapons on the island be turned in. Most had obeyed, succumbing to the threat of punishment and their own fear. Only a few had refused to comply and already some of them were paying for this disobedience with their own lives.

  In the months following the incident in the school classroom at Christmas, Eleni had taken on the job of restoring a number of paintings that the Germans had removed from the houses the Italians had been forced to abandon. Alexander Achermann had offered her this job, telling her that it was a way to keep her safe from further hassle. Ever since that evening, he had shown his interest at every opportunity, sometimes risking his position and even his own life, such as the time when Nikos had fallen gravely ill. He had brought the military doctor, a friend from his student days, to see the boy and give him all the medication he needed to recover.

  The better acquainted she became with Alexander, the more Eleni realized he was different from everyone else. He had confessed that he did not agree with the Nazis but had been drafted into the army and forced to fight. As soon as the war ended—and the end was nearing—he would return to Berlin and take over his parents’ antique shop.

  She had explained that she was engaged and, even though she had no idea where her fiancé was, she would wait for him, forever. He had appreciated her dignified stance but never stopped courting her in his discreet manner, captivated by her looks and character. Using his post as a filmmaker and his current project to record life on the island, he had asked her to be his guide. One day he confided that the Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda had asked him to highlight the Greeks’ barbarity, but he intended, as much as possible, to stay away from images that could imply that. He had studied ancient Greek, admired the Tragedians and Homer, and often spent time discussing the fates of those characters with her.

  Eleni maintained her connection to Achermann for her own reasons. She garnered whatever information she could about the Germans’ plans and movements and passed them on to Yiannis. She was careful, of course, to ensure that Alexander remained oblivious to the way she was using him and let him hope that he may still have a chance to win her over. The truth was that she simply did not dislike him and nothing more. Her love for Manolis had not lessened in the least. She l
ived and breathed for the moment when they would reunite and believed that time was near. She knew he was on a neighboring island and would return at the first opportunity. She felt as if he were close to her and drew strength from that feeling. So, she kept up her double life, careful and alert at all times, knowing that the slightest misstep on her part would spell disaster for everyone involved.

  Every time she set off to meet the men in the Resistance she claimed that she was off to paint various landscapes and prominently carried her art supplies. Alexander had asked to film her painting but she always politely refused, saying that it was not right to be seen together. Many people who were unaware of her activities were already gossiping, condemning her as a collaborator for the restoration work she was carrying out for Germans. She kept her head high and her mouth shut; it was impossible to know whom to trust in these turbulent times.

  »»»»»»»»»»»

  When Karme set foot on the shore she suddenly stopped and neighed loudly in the direction of the cave. Eleni looked around her, puzzled. No one seemed to be on the beach, everything was quiet. The Germans would have found it difficult to set up an ambush here. It was impossible to approach the cave without being seen, whether coming down the hill or by boat.

  From the rocks to her right, Nikos appeared. The young boy had had to grow up fast and was now acting as the lookout. He waved at Eleni and whistled, giving the all clear.

  Yiannis was the first one to step out of the cave. He was followed by three locals and another two men Eleni had never seen before. They must be the Englishmen, she thought. The last man to come out wore a woolly hat and his face was covered by a bushy beard. He walked hunched, the lapels of his overcoat raised and covering the sides of his face. A third Englishman? Yiannis had only mentioned two.

  Seeing the third man come out of the cave, Karme pricked her ears forward and sprang toward him, Eleni barely managing to stay on her back and unable to control her. She galloped through the other men, who jumped out of the way, and stopped before the bearded stranger, snorting expectantly. He removed the woolly hat and patted the horse’s neck, Karme turning her head to sniff his palm.