The Siege

by Marilyn Baron

  “But they had your mother, and then your mother had you,” the woman said.

  “But how sad is that. They were so in love, and my grandfather never even saw his child.”

  “How much do you know about your grandfather?” Sophia asked.

  “Only that he was an artist.”

  “He was so talented that Marc Chagall took an interest in his career, as I mentioned. He went to France to study with the great master for a year. Your grandmother was so in love with him that she wanted what was best for him, and so she let him go. Your grandfather’s style was very similar to the great master’s—light, whimsical, dreamy. Your grandfather drew pictures of Chania, of the people, the scenery, especially the beaches, and many of your grandmother. He always said his pictures came alive from his dreams.”

  “I also dream and then paint what’s in my dreams,” said Theia. “I dreamed of this place before I knew anything about it.”

  “Perhaps you have your grandfather’s spirit within you.”

  “What happened to my grandfather? I know my grandmother received word of a tragedy at sea. He was supposed to meet her in Atlanta, but he never came. She alluded to his death in one of her letters, the last one she wrote to him, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear the story about what happened in Chania during the war.”

  “That’s why I’m here. I come every day for the tourists, to tell them about the Jews of Chania, so no one will forget and no one can claim it never happened. You’ve heard of the Holocaust deniers?”

  “Yes,” said Theia. She looked intently at Wade, daring him to speak.

  “I’m not a denier,” Wade protested, holding up his hand. “It’s true I don’t know anything about the Nazi occupation of Greece. The truth is that the amount I know about the Holocaust could fit into a thimble. I haven’t really thought much about it. But looking at those pictures, especially the wedding photo of your grandparents, looking at each other like they were the only two people in the world, breaks my heart. Theia, you are the incarnation of your grandmother. But for a brief lapse in time, that could have been you who…”

  Theia nodded. She had been thinking the same thing. “I only know what I have read. My grandmother never told me anything, so what I know about her life is only from her letters. I’m hoping we can find out some history inside this building.”

  “Let’s start from the beginning,” said Sophia. “You have to do that to understand what was happening in Europe at the time. In 1937, about twenty thousand works from German museums, including Chagall’s, were confiscated as “degenerate.” Marc Chagall was living in Vichy, France, and he was so preoccupied with his art he wasn’t aware until October 1940 of the danger French Jews faced. He almost didn’t get out. He was a prominent artist, so naturally he thought his fame would protect him. Maybe he thought the rules didn’t apply to him.

  “France collapsed so quickly everyone was caught unprepared. Jews were being rounded up and sent to concentration camps. Nazi occupying forces began approving anti-Semitic laws, and Jews were being removed from public and academic positions. But stubbornly he failed to see the predicament he was in and the position he put his family in. But as he witnessed the growing violence and persecution of the Jews, he realized he had to leave France to save his family, and he sought to emigrate to America. Jews in Germany often waited years for permission to emigrate.

  “As I said, Theo had gone to France to study with Chagall. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Eleni didn’t go with him, but she didn’t want him to pass up this chance. Your grandfather was there in Vichy, France, with Chagall and his family when war broke out. With the help of the director of the Museum of Modern Art, an American journalist, the American Vice-Consul in Marseilles, and the Emergency Committee to Save European Jewry, who smuggled European artists and intellectuals out of Europe and to the United States under forged visas, Marc Chagall and his family escaped to the USA and took with them his paintings and Theo’s paintings—the ones he’d created in France.

  “Chagall and his wife, Bella, fled to New York City and arrived on June 23, 1941, the day after Germany invaded the Soviet Union and the same year Crete was taken by the Germans. He was one of 2,000 who were rescued by this operation. Chagall’s daughter Ida and her husband Michel followed on the refugee ship SS Navemar with a large case of Chagall’s and Theo’s work. Picasso and Matisse were also among artists invited to America, but they decided to stay in France.

  “They offered to help your grandfather make arrangements for passage for himself and your grandmother, but at that time the war had not yet come to Crete, and she refused to leave her parents. Most of us felt the same. We thought we were untouchable, that nothing bad could happen to us. We were wrong. Of course your grandfather wouldn’t go without Eleni. They lived happily together for a short while, until the Germans came to Crete, and then your grandfather joined the forces fighting for Greece in the mountains. He felt it was his duty. But he tried to convince us. He returned from France talking of trouble for the Jews there. But no one listened.”

  “How long were my grandparents reunited before my grandfather enlisted? Did he ever return for her?”

  “For only a brief while. That was a tragic story.”

  “Can you tell me more?” Theia prompted.

  “I will tell you what I know,” said Sophia, who settled down across from them on the bench in front of the memory wall. “The war in Crete began in 1941 and lasted until 1945. For two weeks in May of 1941, three of our main towns were badly bombed by the German Luftwaffe, commanded by General Wolfram Freiherr von Richthofen, of the Condor Legion.”

  “Wasn’t that the same Condor Legion of Hitler’s German air force that destroyed the village of Guernica, Spain, on April 26, 1937?” Wade interjected.

  “Wade has a photographic memory where he stores a warehouse full of useless facts,” Theia said.

  “He’s right, and it’s a very relevant fact,” said Sophia. “That was the first-ever aerial bombardment of a civilian population, and it destroyed seventy percent of the village, killing and wounding about 1,600 people, roughly one-third of the population of Guernica. Perhaps you’ve heard about Picasso’s painting, Guernica, that showed the results of bombing.”

  “Of course,” said Theia. “I’ve studied that painting. It’s one of my favorites.”

  “Because of its elongated shape and mountainous terrain, the island of Crete was ideal for the establishment of local guerilla groups and resistance fighters. From the moment the German offensive began, and over the years of occupation that followed, civilians set up armed groups to defend the island. Then came the waves of paratroopers. When the Germans took Crete, they were met by fierce resistance from the local population. In addition to other activities, we gave shelter to British Commonwealth soldiers and assisted them in escaping.

  “Crete’s three main towns—Chania, Rethmynon, and Heraklion—were badly bombed. The worst bombing was right here in Chania. By June of 1941, the Axis Powers had won the Battle of Crete. The island was divided into two occupation zones. The Germans took the main ports and cities, and the Italians held the far eastern portion.”

  At this point in her story, Sophia’s eyes became glassy and her voice seemed far away, as if she were slipping back in time.

  Chapter Five

  Crete during the German-Italian Occupation, 1941-1944

  “Look what they’ve done, Eleni! They’ve destroyed my studio! Everything is gone! A lifetime of work, blown to dust in seconds.”

  Eleni gently cradled Theo’s cheek with the palm of her hand to calm him. “Darling, didn’t you say the paintings you created in France are on a boat to New York? Your work will be preserved.”

  Despondent, Theo flung Eleni’s hand from his face. “The work I did in France, yes. But not my work in Chania. It’s ruined, everything is ruined.” His voice stung like a slap in the face.

  “Theo, we still have each other.”

  “Eleni, how many times have
I warned you we’ve got to get away from here? I’ve seen the war in France. I’ve seen the cruelty of the Germans. I’ve told you it was only a matter of time, and now they’re here. You’re blind if you can’t see that.”

  Sophia arrived at what was left of Theo’s studio.

  “My God, Theo! Your beautiful paintings! They’re gone!”

  “I wish you would explain to your friend, the ostrich here, who won’t take her beautiful head out of the sand, that we cannot stay here a moment longer.”

  Eleni embraced Sophia. “You’re all right?”

  “I’m fine, but our city is all but destroyed. Theo’s right, Eleni. I’ve been taken in by a Greek Orthodox family. I’m safe. But Theo is a partisan known to the Germans. You are his wife. If they catch him, they will execute him as an example. You’ve got to leave now.”

  “How safe do you think you’ll be if the Germans find out you’re with the resistance too, my friend?”

  Sophia raised her head in defiance. “That’s a chance I’ll have to take.”

  “It’s all bluster,” said Eleni, waving her hands in front of her face. “They’ve dropped their bombs and split up our country between them, and now what else can they do? We’ll wait it out until it blows over.”

  “Blows over?” Theo raged. “Do you hear yourself, Eleni? It is not a mistral that blows in and out again. It’s not a game. You think things cannot get worse, but I assure you they can.”

  “But the Allies—” Eleni protested.

  “Have pulled back and already begun their evacuation to Egypt,” Theo interrupted. “The Fifth Cretan Division retreated to the Peloponnese and they’ve all but dissolved. There’s no way for it to reach Crete.”

  “What about the three battalions that remained in Crete after the rest of the division was transferred to the mainland?”

  “They participated in the Battle of Crete, and we know how that turned out.”

  “But surely someone—”

  “There’s no one left to defend us. No one left but our people to resist.”

  “We’re like the unsuspecting lobsters in a pot of warm water,” sighed Sophia. “We’re comfortable, but they will turn up the heat, and then we will boil to death, slowly, and we won’t even know what happened. Theo, I came to tell you. The German High Command asked the rabbi of Chania for an initial list of the Jewish community and its members.”

  “That’s how it starts,” Theo ranted. “That’s exactly how it starts. Next there will be a series of anti-Jewish measures imposed. Jewish newspapers will close down. Jewish families will be forced to wear the Star of David and kicked out of their homes and arrested. And despite these warnings, you’re reluctant to leave your home? Before you know it, the Wehrmacht will begin hunting down and executing innocent civilians around the island for acts of resistance.”

  “They’ve already begun executing and imprisoning civilians for resisting German occupation,” attested Sophia. “No one is safe, Christians or Jews. They’re massacring everyone, including lawyers and teachers, farmers and politicians, even journalists and a priest. Our cities, towns, and villages are destroyed, deserted.”

  Theo chimed in. “I’ve just heard about some soldiers who surrounded a local village, gathered the people together in the main square, and began interrogating them. They beat them. Then they arbitrarily selected the people they wanted to execute and did it, without a care. They’re looting our houses, taking food and jewelry. They’ve even taken our sheep and goats. Whatever they can’t take away, they destroy, then blow up the houses or burn them down.”

  “Surely they wouldn’t do that,” said Eleni.

  Theo’s face was enraged with frustration. “You are a child, Eleni, a blind child! I want to shake you. Wake up and look around you before it’s too late.”

  Eleni shrank back. She hardly recognized Theo. He had changed since coming back from France.

  Sophia put her hand on Theo’s shoulder. “Please, do not take this out on Eleni. None of this is her fault.”

  “I had a way out for us and she refused to take it. She wouldn’t leave, and I won’t leave without her. To make matters worse, she’s pregnant.”

  “To make matters worse?” Eleni questioned.

  “You know what I mean. You need to get out. I need you and our child safe.”

  Sophia shook her head. “I tried to convince her to go. Dozens of families are homeless, Theo. Their military just comes in and destroys our homes or commandeers the homes they want. There are already food and medicine shortages. People are hungry and afraid. Pretty soon they’ll devalue our money. The prices of olive oil, wheat, and leather are out of control. It is almost impossible to come by coffee and sugar.”

  “The black markets will take care of that,” Theo spat.

  “We’ve lost our freedom. The mountains, harbors, and beaches are ‘off limits,’ and they’ve imposed a curfew. They’ve cut off electrical power and confiscated our boats, and our vehicles and horses and hunting guns and radios. They loot our shops and take what they want. What’s next?”

  “They’re already requisitioning our farmland and clear-felling our forests,” Theo added.

  “They’re conscripting people of all ages for forced labor on road construction and building projects, and feeding them on starvation rations.”

  “But if they need us for work, surely they will keep us around,” Eleni reasoned.

  “Eleni, don’t you see? That’s how it starts with occupying forces. They are killing Jews in Europe, taking them away for work and then eradicating them.”

  “But not here in Greece.”

  “Not now, but soon.”

  “But Theo, I’m pregnant. Surely they wouldn’t harm a pregnant woman.”

  Fear was written all over Theo’s face. “You are so naïve, Eleni. It’s people like you who make their job easy. You go along like sheep to the slaughter. My God, what am I going to do with you? How can we bring a child into this world? Are we insane?”

  Eleni rubbed her stomach. “Don’t you want this child, Theo?”

  Theo grabbed his bride and nearly crushed her in his arms. “Eleni, my love, there’s nothing I want more than to have a nice, peaceful life with you and our child. But that is not up to us anymore. I love you more than life itself, and now you will do what I say. There’s a boat, there’s one more boat, and I want you to be on it.”

  “And you will come with me?”

  “Eleni, what kind of a man would I be if I deserted my people when they need me? This country needs every man and woman it can get. Civilian heroes are risking their lives every day, heroes like your friend Sophia. I must do my part and stay and fight. I promise you I will be on the first boat out after the war is over. I will find you. But you have to promise me to protect our child—and the other children we’re sending with you. Sophia, you take Eleni to the boat and make sure she and the children get away. I need to disappear back into the hills.”

  He held Sophia’s chin with his fingers. “And dear Sophia, please take care. You are engaged in dangerous business.”

  “No more than you, my friend.”

  Theo turned to Eleni. “Sweetheart, I am sorry I lost my temper. I’ll love you with my last breath.” Theo kissed Eleni’s tearstained face and held her like he would never see her again. She clung to him like a survivor to a life raft. He memorized her face and touched her lips with his fingertips. He remembered happier days when he had the luxury of time to paint her likeness. But they had run out of time. He placed his hand firmly on her stomach. “Take care of your mother, little one. I’ll see you both again, in a better world.”

  Theo broke away with tears in his eyes and watched Eleni and Sophia as they walked toward the sea.

  Chapter Six

  Present Day Crete

  “Did they ever see each other again after that?” Theia asked, dabbing her eyes.

  “Not in this life,” said Sophia, misty-eyed herself. “The Germans picked him up soon after that. He was caught u
p in the roundup. If he had stayed in the hills, he might still be alive. But he had to see Eleni one more time, to make sure she was safely away. I was a little bit in love with Theo too,” she admitted. “It was hard not to be. His loss was my loss, too. But he only had eyes for Eleni.”

  Theia had listened intently and patiently, but she could no longer wait to hear about the Tanais tragedy. “What about the ship? Tell me more about what happened to the Jews of Chania, in particular to my grandfather.”

  “There have been Jews on Crete for about twenty-three hundred years,” Sophia said. “And in fifteen minutes Cretan Jewish history was obliterated. We were just a tiny, mountainous island in the middle of the Mediterranean. We didn’t have much—some buildings, shops, schools, synagogues, cemeteries. Only about twenty-five Jews from Crete survived the war.

  “Before things got worse, your grandfather arranged for a man to take your grandmother and five children to Palestine and on to their journeys around the world, but at first she refused to go. She wouldn’t leave your grandfather. Theo was not in Chania when the Germans began their roundups. He was in the mountains with the other partisans. When I got word to him that Eleni wouldn’t leave without him, he snuck back, which was very dangerous, and convinced her to go on the very last ship, to protect their child and five other children. He risked his life to make sure for himself that she was on that boat. She wanted to wait for him, but in the end, the ship was ready to leave, the Germans came, and she had no choice. She had to protect her unborn child and the others in her care. He promised he would follow soon after.

  “It was a heartbreaking and tearful last goodbye. A very pregnant Eleni clung to Theo. She and her charges of five Jewish refugee children, of all different grade school ages, were dressed for the weather—hats and headscarves, woolen stockings, heavy coats, and sturdy shoes or boots. All carried rolled sleeping bags, and duffel bags or knapsacks full of warm things for the journey and their life ahead. They wore several layers of clothing under their coats, with diamonds and paper money sewn into the hems of their jackets. The girls had purses stuffed with various little things. All had identifying tags on their belongings, and they clutched their all-important papers.