The Eagle of Spinalonga

by Nike Azoros

  Nikos was eating his succulent salmon so elegantly caught by his Artemis when Lyras nudged him. He looked at him in surprise. Lyras had never done that before. He was even more surprised when Lyras handed him a piece of paper. Nikos took it and unfolded it. Written on it were the words, I can understand German, Lyras.

  Lyras was on temporary relief duty when the message was intercepted. It was clear and sharp. The soldiers would be dropped from the air and ammunitions, weapons and supplies would also be dropped by parachute. The parachutes were to be color coded. Red was for ammunitions, blue for weapons and green for supplies. The paratroopers would use standard white parachutes. Lyras could not leave his post until his replacement came to take over the shift but he had to let the mainland know how that attack would take place.

  No one but Maria had heard his voice, he hadn’t spoken to anyone else in years. Finally the person to take over the next shift walked in and Lyras ran out to find Nikos. He found him in the taverna. The taverna was full and they all turned to look at him. They had never seen him like this before, he was always passive and engrossed in his music.

  ‘What is it Lyras?’

  ‘They are going to fall out of the sky!’

  For the first few seconds they were engrossed in hearing his voice for the first time but once he started talking the information he was giving them was even more engrossing. The patients of Spinalonga relayed the message to Crete and the people prepared for the first day of the Battle of Crete.

  The Battle of Crete commenced on a clear May day in 1941. At 8.00am precisely Stukas flew over the northern coastline of Crete and spewed out their contents. The skies filled with white balloons with smatterings of red, green and blue larger ones. It was an almost festive air. The entire civilian population of Crete was out in the united mission to protect their sacred and ancient land. One old man out walking on the hill to watch had a paratrooper land in front of him. The young German saw the old man hobbling towards him with the use of a walking stick and began to disentangle himself from all the ropes of the chute. The old man reached him and the German sneered at him, ‘Hey old man,’

  ‘Go to hell.’ The old man whacked the soldier on the head in the same way he knocked out goats before he would bleed them out by cutting their throats. The soldier slumped and the old man whacked him again.

  ‘You think you know how to kill do you. I’ll show you how.’ Within seconds the soldiers head was a mushy pulp. The old Cretan stripped the body of its boots, belt and gun and wiped clean his favorite walking stick on the khaki trousers of the soldier, he let the carrion birds do the rest of the cleaning up.

  The men of Crete had developed a clear plan, as soon as the colored parachutes become visible they would break away and get as many of the red, green and blue parachutes as possible to get to the weapons and ammunitions they were carrying. To do that they needed to get backup fighters and the only extra available backup were the women who were more than willing to fight.

  Theodora Lambrakis was no different. She led her feminine battalion to the coastline, all of them resolved to the plan they had made. Mrs. Theodora Lambrakis woke up that day ready to die. There was nothing she wanted more. Her arranged marriage at the age of fifteen was carried out purely for the convenience of her family. But as soon as she was wed her husband was conscripted and sent to fight the Bulgarians in the Balkan War. He served away for two years. All that time she lived with her in-laws and became as dear to them as any daughter. They died elderly and frail but grateful to God their boy had a partner like Theodora who could be what a woman was truly meant to be, the centre of the family and Theodora was a woman who lived for her family.

  When her husband had returned from his military service he feared the young girl he had left behind would have turned into a bitter shrew as some women tend to do when their personal desires are not fulfilled and they have not been smart enough to develop positive ways of feeling fulfilled when their fate and their dreams do not match. She appeared in the gateway of the family home. He had left behind a girl and standing before him now was a beautiful woman in the full blossoming of her beauty. Weaving between her long skirts was a child, their son Nikolas. Her in-laws were wise and decided to leave for Heraklion to visit family giving them the house to themselves for ten days.

  Kostas was proud he had such a good and beautiful wife to come home to and he knew in his heart he wouldn’t have appreciated her as much if he hadn’t been sent away to war. When a man has a wife all he can think about is getting away from her. When a man goes to war all he can think about is going home and holding her in his arms.

  Now it was her turn to fight for her country. She and her fellow female warriors stood and watched as man after man hit the water and struggled with the weight of their chutes, the water making them even heavier and the weight on their backs making it difficult to even stand on their feet. The women stood together lining the beachfront, smiling warmly in welcome and beckoning them closer. The soldiers relaxed and stopped worrying and worked on trying to stand up in the water. ‘Oh look at them, they are so clean faced.’

  Theodora was like a Miltiades at Marathon, studying the lie of the land, using her troops to absolute advantage.

  ‘Come, come.’ They beckoned. The men were struggling to swim so the women entered the water without bothering to hitch up their long black skirts or their equally long aprons and outstretched their arms to them. Germans knew about the legendary hospitality of the Greeks, they never really had a chance to experience it because they had taken what they needed without thought to social graces. What were these smiling women saying? Did they want to offer them hospitality in exchange for their lives? It was a natural instinct to swim towards these maternal figures, sweetly smiling Panayias.

  The women had spread out to form a coastal frontline. Each woman placed herself to be at least a metre apart from the next. Theodora watched the men intently, studying their every movement in wait of the moment the soldiers would be at maximum struggle. They were wet and carried heavy packs and were trying to get out of their parachutes without strangling themselves or each other as well as try to inch forward to the shore. Theodora watched as they reached the spot where they would be about ready to attempt to stand up in the water.

  ‘Now! Strike down these Satans.’

  From beneath their long skirts they brought out their scythes and as swiftly as Artemis would draw her bow they moved in unison, bringing their arm back then forward delivering a swoosh of steel through the heads of the soldiers. One soldier had the top of his head sliced off, lobotomizing him.

  Theodora saw his eyes lose life as he stumbled, unable to think in any capacity the man slipped down into the water to drown. The men didn’t even have time to scream in horror. Weighed down by water and their parachutes and trying to keep their heads above water gave the women clear access to perform the efficient beheadings. The scythes operated as efficiently in lopping down men as they were in cutting through wheat stalks. The women had spent all of the day before peening them and honing them on whetstones till the curved blades shone like scimitars. They had rubbed the grips to be smooth so as to make it as easy as possible to swing the blades. The scythes skimmed the surface of the water like hovercraft. Theodora had made them do a rehearsal run the day before at sunset so the sun would not reflect off the blades and arouse suspicions.

  They kept up their unified front line, slashing and sweeping, lopping off heads, slicing off arms, amputating limbs until not one man was left whole. Theodora had struck two down in one sweep. Some women shouted, ‘God forgive me’ with each swipe. Some screeched with success and others worked silently focused on their grim reaping as they embraced the role of feminine executioner. And grim the task was, they were knowingly slicing up someone’s son. God would forgive them for these demons had come into their land to kill their sons. What did they expect?

  When the women stopped to observe their work the water had turned red and German heads were bobbing around lik
e split watermelons. An explosion from within the shoal of soldiers sent a couple of the women off their feet to splash back into the water but the other women helped them get up.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Theodora answered but she soon found out when another soldier stood up and was clearly seen to reach over to his belt and unclip his hand grenade and hold it out while he glared at them defiantly. The grenade exploded in his hand caused another spurt of water, a few of the body parts bobbed around. The soldier who had held the grenade had disappeared into a puff of smoke. Two more Germans did the same thing, preferring to be blown up quickly than hacked to death by peasant women. Frankly the women were happy for the break.

  ‘Couldn’t more of them have done the same, my hands were getting blisters.’ The women nodded with the same subtle satisfaction as when their olives are pronounced ready. Theodora called her troops together,

  ‘Ok ladies, I commend you on a job well done. Now according to the intelligence we received many of these men will be armed. We activate the second part of our plan.’ Part of their information package was the soldiers would be only lightly armed with knives, grenades and pistols. The heavier weaponry would be parachuted down in the containers but a few of them would have machine guns strapped to their bodies.

  Her troops splashed around in the red waters to get as many weapons as possible from the remnants of the German paratroopers. They managed to get hundreds before they had to run for cover as another wave of airplanes roared above them. They looked back at their handiwork before they ran.

  ‘We made Kataifi out of them.’

  Theodora looked out over the sea to Spinalonga where her only family lived. She would gladly swim through the human chum. She would gladly embrace the lepers. She would gladly live for the rest of her days on the island eating grass and lizards, as long as she could be with her family.

  All over Crete there were similar successes to Theodora and her team. Women at every harbor had led the first onslaught and picked their victims clean of their weapons. Even the priests and the children had played some role. But the men of Crete were not hiding or idle, they were with the allied troops or covering the backs of their loved ones on the frontline who were picking off paratroopers. They were also targeting the parachutes that were not bringing in men but containers.

  In particular they were on the lookout for containers attached to triple parachutes. These heavier containers were carrying a new weapon, the Leichtgeschütz 40 a light field gun. The intelligence they had received from the radio station at Spinalonga had told them these long range guns were light and easy to move, perfect for the mountainous regions and easy for the resistance to conceal. Using German weaponry on Germans was something they were looking forward to doing and Nikos had made it possible.

  There was not going to be a manned assault on the eastern side, the Germans wanted to only attack the western hard for that was where the Royal navy had its fleet moored. Greek military personnel with the most ancient weaponry were sent to the eastern side. It was no comfort to know that there would not be a major invasion on the eastern side.

  ‘So what does that mean?’ asked the people. ‘Is there such a thing as a minor invasion?’ The information from Spinalonga was precise, the civilians of the eastern side of Crete were not armed or poorly armed at best. Theodora’s battalions had fixed that problem.

  The people of Crete won the first battle but the Germans kept coming. Crete had no option but to eventually surrender so as to avoid decimation. Punishment was how Germans operated. Their philosophy was, the more people got publicly punished the more those remaining would obey. Theodora knew they would be coming for her. One of the men of the town came to see her.

  ‘Theodora you are a heroine but they will come for you. Come with us to hide in up in the caves.’ She was grateful, not for the compliment of being called a heroine, but that they accepted her to be with them instead of shunning her as they had done.

  ‘Thank you my friend but if I am truly a heroine then I have no business running from the enemy’s bullets, if they indeed consider that I am worthy of one.’ The land was already full of stories of the warped economy of the Nazis such as how the soldiers would get the mothers to hold their babies up in front of them so as to save bullets for the firing squad. That way they could get two with one shot, then the Germans would congratulate each other for their efficiency.

  ‘Theodora you are wrong. A true hero saves himself for the next battle instead of becoming a worthless sacrifice. Come with us.’ She took in the man’s determined gaze and became solemn. He was right. ‘Very well then but first there is something I need to do.’ Theodora Lambrakis went looking for the boatman. She had made her way to Elounda and was told by the people there that he was the one who goes to Spinalonga. She watched the harbor from her hiding spot and could see the where the boatman was moored. She stayed concealed until darkness fell. The moonlight was her guide as she made her way to the harbor. He was loading up the goods stacked on the pier for his dawn departure. In her black clothes and headscarf she had blended into the darkness startling him as she suddenly popped out of the black, her face a disembodied visage floating in a sea of night.

  ‘Panayia mou, you ripped my soul out sneaking up on me like that. What do you want?’

  ‘Boatman, I face the firing squad so I ask you to take these things to the island. I have two children there, Maria and Nikos Lambrakis. I have nothing left for me, the Germans will find me and kill me but I don’t care. I die as happy as it is possible for me to be, I fought for my country, the same country that stole my children from me. Now I give my life too. God decided I should not know the things that so many people take for granted, a man, a home, a family. I was given them for such a short time but it was long enough to know they are the greatest gifts of all along with health. If you have those things you can survive anything. But I have nothing left, except these few things.’

  The boatman saw she held in her hands the personal treasures of a family, worthless to others but priceless to them. He saw a man’s watch, some photographs, and a gold cross. He stayed silent as he studied her. She was slender, not too tall and had a face he had seen on ancient coins. His silence concerned her.

  ‘I suppose you are waiting for payment.’ She sighed as she reached into her bosom and pulled out a couple of crumpled one hundred drachma notes. ‘Here, this is all I have in the world, but please take these to my children. I have no need of anything anymore, I am dead anyway.’

  The boatman reached out his hand and took the trinkets and the money.

  ‘I will take them. But I have something to suggest to you so listen to me Mrs. Lambrakis. ‘You say you do not fear death?’

  ‘I do not. I fear life without my family. Death is better than watching these Germans rape our land.’

  He spat, ‘These Germans! I have never seen a people so obsessed with hygiene yet so filthy in everything else they do, as if taking a bath and splashing on cologne washes away all the other sins. Better a man smelly with sweat from hard work and a clean heart than a sweet smelling German so hungry for power he thinks nothing of killing women and children and innocent Jews.’ Theodora handed him the items.

  ‘Tell my children I die with them in my heart.’

  ‘Tell them yourself.’

  ‘If only I could.’

  ‘You can.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  The boatman explained to her that his was the only vessel that never got inspected. The Germans, so efficient and thorough in checking everything to capture any smugglers, were lax in only one area when it came to detecting contraband, and that was the boat bound for Spinalonga. They were too paranoid about infection and in their reasoning no one would want to go there and if anyone did they would never be leaving and therefore be no threat to them, so no checks took place.

  ‘If you do not fear death then I am about to load many sacks of potatoes and onions for Spinalonga along with other
supplies the Germans are allowing. They have some sort of international agreement to treat Spinalonga as a hospital zone. Also they are scared shitless the lepers will infiltrate the mainland and give them their disease.’ The boatman looked up at the sky, it was mottled now turning from black of night to grey of dawn. He walked over to get closer to her.

  ‘Quick,’ he whispered. ‘While it is still dark get into the boat and hide behind the potato sacks, I will take you to Spinalonga. You can be with your children and the Nazis will never find you. You said you do not care about your life without your children didn’t you? Well this way you can be with them and your life will be in God’s hands. Stay here and you put your life in the hands of the Nazis, you choose who you want in charge of your life.’ Theodora scrambled into the boat and crouched down among the hessian bags.

  ‘You okay back there?’ The boatman yelled out.

  ‘Yes, yes all good.’

  ‘Do you feel afraid?’

  ‘No, not at all. I have never felt so happy.’

  ‘I am not going to take you to the regular entrance where the supplies are taken. We are going to Dante’s Gate the entrance of the lepers. Just in case anyone has been watching they will just think you are another leper.’

  ‘I am happy to hear that. I can see what my children saw when they first went there.’ Before too long she felt movement and she knew that meant they were sailing. She closed her eyes and welcomed the arrival of sleep until she was woken by a bump. ‘Okay, get up now we are here.’

  Her legs had lost their feeling and shaking out the pins and needles had at first occupied her more than taking in the surroundings. The boatman got out of the boat, ‘Come closer. Come to the side of the boat.’ She stood near the edge and steadied herself by putting her hands on his shoulders. He scooped her up in his arms and swung her out of the boat landing her feet first on the ground.