A warm "welcome" in Greece and "THE" Surprise
Our formalities were over; the customs officer had also completed his work and I just wanted to drive away, when the customs officer spoke to me again and asked me if I could do him a favor. There was a TV team, some politicians and some priests, who wanted to inform the public about the work of the customs, since a lot of drugs were being smuggled at that moment. They wanted to use my car to show where and how inspections were done. Rather, where the evil men may hide the stuff.
I allowed the further investigation and experienced the surprise of my life. In front of the running camera, the car boot was cleared out once again, the things were all checked again, the seats were removed and the car was checked again more thoroughly than earlier. Of course they did not find anything here.
But the customs officer, Mr. Kostas, wanted to do a very good and accurate job and now had success. He bustled around with a screwdriver in the entrance panel below the doors, which was already somewhat rusty - and came back with a black substance.
Kostas smelled the substance and could not believe it.
Now he behaved like a predator, which had licked blood.
He calmed down only when the 23 kilos of black Afghans were on the table in front of him. After each plastic bag, which Kostas retrieved from the chamber, I was feeling more and more dizzy.
That was just not possible!
Where did the stuff come from?
It was not mine; Chitra and Lal looked at me as if I were a monster from another distant world.
They thought that it was my stuff; the customs and the TV crew thought so too. The politicians and priests thought so too! All were convinced that it was my material.
The judge also were of the opinion that I had to have 3 years to think about why I had done this.
Chitra and Lal were permitted to continue on their journey, after I had affirmed that they had nothing to do with the car purchase.
My home for the next few years was to be the beautiful island of Corfu. Nothing against the island, but the prison was an old castle or something similar and not suitable for tourists. I soon realized that I was not a tourist. Neither had I come to terms with the fact that I was sitting in jail, without having done anything.
For hours, for nights, I mused about what had happened. Gradually I was able to understand it: the French had prepared the Mercedes and I had exchanged the car with them, which had been convenient for them. The carpet, which I was to deliver at the Hotel Pascha in Munich and get two hundred dollars in cash for it, was only a reason to maneuver me there. They had definitely had a second key, had borrowed the car over-night briefly it stood in front of the hotel the next morning again. That is how it should have run its course.
Yes it had almost worked.
But only I could have so much of bad luck.
My swine-dog still laughed the battered soul out of the belly. At this stage I could not much do much and accepted my fate.
My Chitra came to visit me with the older daughter after six months.
She brought money with and procured me legal assistance. My lawyer even spoke German. The local honorary consul could not or did not want to help me.
I told my lawyer everything precisely and also informed him of my suspicions. The man was clever, understood me, and what was important was that he believed me.
I did not know if Chitra believed me by now.
I had to go for my second court hearing and I got something in addition: The judge changed it from three years to three and a half years.
At that moment I had just about had it and thought all of them should go to hell.
I made my stay as good and nice as it was possible under these circumstances. My cell mate was a German from Hanover. His name was Ulli, exactly Ulrich Holle and my name was Hans Hollin (name changed), which caused a lot of confusion in the following period, since the Greek had a problem with the two names that were almost the same.
That changed only when I started working in the kitchen.
There were no simple thieves in my new home but heavyweights, who had to do with robbery resulting in death, up to one who had struck his mother dead. There was also one man, who did not belong there, since he was completely wacky. He had shot his two brothers because they had fought over a few Drachma. It had been a dispute over inheritance.
Then there were some Americans, French, British, Persians, Israelis, Palestinians and four Germans, to whom I was added as a newcomer. Nearly all foreigners were there for the same offense, namely because of having hashish in possession. We were narcotics smugglers and therefore were placed with the dangerous criminals on an equal footing and accommodated in this special place.
In addition, the Greek courts considered that a person had not only smuggled but was sick because of the drug, that is, addicted. We were not given coffee. We could buy just mint tea and milk in the shop in the jail, if we had the money.
All the Greeks had individual cells.
We foreigners were always together in twos in a cell.
Maybe they knew that we would not bother one another sexually. Also they knew that we would not have to stay here forever, like most of the Greeks, who had life imprisonment. Some Greeks and an Israeli were working with me in the kitchen. It was also an advantage in serving meals since you got around in the jail and you could do small favors and you could get cigarettes. As a non-smoker, I wanted coffee for passing on messages. I was able to always give my countrymen a piece of meat, which they would eventually pay off at some occasion. You might never know.
My Israeli companion in the kitchen had been caught with weapons, which he wanted to smuggle. This is almost as bad as or worse than narcotics.
I came to know about the Munich Olympics massacre from the Greek newspapers, which some inmates received. It was September 5, 1972, which the Palestinians celebrated here. It was a fine thing that my Israeli brother and I joined together and scolded the Palestinians and reduced the food rations for them. For once I was fighting together with an Israeli. But it was pointless.
The prison management stopped it.
I also always had the idea that all the prison inmates were gay.
My cell mate was a quite normal, not gay. Also no one had made a proposition to me during the yard exercise and it remained so up to my release.
Ulli and I had an agreement that we held.
There was a platform on one side and another one on the other side, and in between we imagined there was an invisible wall. So each person had his own realm. If the pressure is too high, you could jerk off, without disturbing the other person.
At least we did so, as if we didn't hear anything. Somehow, as a young man you had to get rid of this stuff. The biggest penalty was directly not being imprisoned, it was life without sex - without a woman for almost three years? I would never survive that. At sea you were without it for a very long time. But you could wait for the next port and could make up for it. But here?
Slowly I understand why men became gay in jail. Basically men would be brought to have relationships with other men only if they are not strong enough or if they have that predisposition. It was not my thing. I could never in my life attack a man or get fucked by a man. Maybe I was not "normal"? I should have tried it once. I had the opportunity.
But I did not do that and jerked off myself. Then I had a peace for some time. For me one thing that I cannot even imagine. I would prefer to become a novice. So we dreamed of women and told stories, what all one had done with a woman and what one would do when we had come out of prison.
But I was able to somehow endure it due to the fact that I had a diversion through my work. Then I received the news from my lawyer that Chitra was on the way and had brought the necessary money, to go to the next authority. The lawyer wanted to have the third hearing in the Supreme Court in Greece because he still pleaded on the basis of me being innocent.
The "Areios Pagos" was the last opportunity to get to go home or just get a seco
nd serving.
I promised my lawyer that if he screwed it up, I would pursue him up to his last day, up to hell. But he was very confident and bolstered me up. Also Chitra promised success, otherwise she would not have begged and collected the money. She had also received money from my parents without requests for repayment!!!!
We were twelve prisoners and sat in a Mercedes prison-van with latticed windows, next to the side wall, where six of us sat. Next was a metal wall with a small observation slit, which could be opened from the driver's cabin. At the back the box was closed with bars. There was a door inside and a police officer was seated on the right and the left side of the door with a shotgun.
The driver and an official with an automatic rifle were in the driver’s cabin.
The officials did not have any guns but a very stable truncheon hung at their belts.
Ten of the prisoners were to travel to the mainland to Thessaloniki and two of us to Athens. My third hearing was set for the next day in the Supreme Court in the final appeal.
The crossing from Corfu to the mainland was overwhelming because we were not let out of our cage, but we had to remain in this stuffy police vehicle for the entire crossing.
The metal box of a car was heated up so much that one prisoner felt quite dizzy and some had to throw up. The shitty police officers meanwhile sat in the air-conditioned bar-cafeteria and drink their Retsina.
If something happened to this ferry, such as fire or a collision, our chance would be that of a rat in a cage, which you just throw into the sea.
Even if these guys had a chance to release us in case of an accident, or even only to turn the key, they would rather let us scum to drown.
But even this voyage had an end and it continued through the mountains. We were all irritated and very nervous and convulsed against each other. Then we had conversations, which led to the conclusion that all the Greek judges were corrupt like the police and that Papadopoulos was a dictator and that he suppressed the people.
We discussed that there was no freedom in Greece like it was the norm in America to be free. The Americans who had only eight months and were brought for their second court hearing, crowed the loudest.
The mountain route had many curves, which our driver passed by each time with such an elegance that we were rocked back and forth like wet bags. From time to time, he kicked in the brakes in such a way that we flew forward against the sheet metal front wall. One of the Americans, who sat directly at this wall, stood there with his back against it and came with full force against the front wall. He cursed and called the police officers "Pustis", which in English meant "gay". Repeatedly treading against the wall had the effect that the driver applied full brakes, which brought whole vehicle to a halt cross-ways to the road.
This time we were so vigorously shaken that some of us flew with our heads against the bracing of the mesh and had lacerations on the head from this.
The rear door was opened, not our mesh doors. The driver asked who it was who kicked against the front wall and insulted us with the most evil Greek words that we could only guess because no one understood it, I was sure of that.
But the American could not help saying his "Greco Pusti", which in turn made the driver so mad, that he ordered the security guard, who guarded the rear door, to unlock it.
The driver detached the handcuffs from his belt and came to us in the cage. He headed directly to the American and tried to put on the handcuffs on him. But since the American had his hand on one of the clamps, he lunged and hit the police in his face with the other clamp hanging loosely.
He bled, went into the driver's cabin and came back with an automatic rifle and asked us all to leave the box, i.e. our cage, our prison.
None of us even made an attempt to get out of the car.
He could have then told that he had shot us as we were trying to escape.
The driver, who had probably become crazed due to a lot of pain, loaded his rifle and fired in our cage.
But the guard sitting in front of the door probably saw what would happen and pressed the rifle with his rifle upwards.
So the whole fusillade went into the roof of our police van.
Now there was a small war between the driver and the three guards, to the rage of the Greeks.
Since there were some other vehicles in front of us and behind us, the common sense of the guards triumphed and we drove on.
A Palestinian passed a packet of cigarettes around and also offered me one.
I took the "Kent”, smoked it with such abandonment that I probably saw this cigarette as a life-saver and since then I became a smoker.
I had not smoked during my whole time at sea, when cigarettes were considered as a duty-free product and a carton of cigarettes cost only four Deutschmark.
Now it was done.
Our American still had the handcuff hanging on one arm and had his other arm free. The driver pressed on the accelerator, as if the devil was behind us. But none of us made a sound. We clung onto something tight and awaited the things, which we would be dealing with.
The driver stopped in the next bigger village and it took a long time till he came back. He had a grin on his face, which was stuck with adhesive plaster.
We were in the backyard of a police station, the mesh door opened and we were to go out into police station. I had an inkling of what would come now. I saw the police uniforms in rank and file, one in every five meters and always opposite.
All of them had cudgels in position.
This was the formation of a row and cudgel blows were given in the lower back, neck or the ass, if you were lucky.
The Americans were the first, then the rest of us, I was lucky because I was the second last person, and thus I had the advantage that the blows were not as strong.
Strangely all walked crouched down. But that was pointless, since the driver had delivered the Americans to be beaten up by his colleagues and the others less. So the policemen did not clobber the others. You could just go through the espalier, which I did and I was given particular attention for that.
Suddenly I was the first one permitted to go to the toilet and I was asked why I was there and I explained that I had to be taken to my "Areios Pagos", to get my freedom eventually, since I was innocent. They palavered again and told me that they wished me much luck. Later I understood why they were so interested in my case. It was already in the media a few times. So they had discussed my case already in the television.
So I was already a well-known jailbird here in Greece. I hoped that I was not so well known in Germany yet.
The handcuffs were not removed from the American but the other hand was also put into the other half-eight. The poor man had blue blotches everywhere. I didn't know how he would explain that the next day in the court. We got another vehicle for me and another prisoner, who had to go to Athens like me and drove on. The others remained in this police station most likely overnight or until the blue blotches were gone. I would not have thought it possible that I would smoke one day. Already I had a craving for a cigarette now and begged for one from my fellow prisoner.
At the next break, which the new official took, I was allowed to buy a packet of "Karelia" cigarettes and enjoyed the smoke, as if I had been smoking forever.
Even before it got dark, we were detained in a police station for staying overnight. It was a suburb of Athens. I was taken to the court building the next morning and I was waiting there for the lawyer and Chitra. The lawyer was on the spot, but where was Chitra? He told me that she had sent him money but she did not want to come or could not - he did not know about it. In any case, not enough money had been transferred he said.
I told him that I did not have any idea about the fees agreements and that he had to fight it out. I saw the judges in the hearing room with a very strange feeling. And above all, the lawyer told me that this judge was not his friend, which did not reassure me very much. Somehow I was very disappointed that Chitra was not in Athens and at this hearing.
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Why?
What reason could have prevented her? What would happen if I was detained in jail again the lawyer wanted more money? Without money I would get a public defender, perhaps from the German Embassy?
The embassy had not yet got in touch with me. I thought that they did not know that I was here or it did not matter to them what happened to such a criminal.
But they would need to know because the honorary consul had come to the jail once and had brought some papers from the German government. Development-aid projects in Africa and brochures from a party that you were expected to vote for.
He had also brought the ‘Bild’ newspaper and other reading material with religious content. But I didn't care about all that right now. I only wanted to hear the ruling of the judge.
We were of the view that I could get up to twenty years if the judge did not buy my story of being innocent.
My butt burned because I had the feeling I was sitting on glowing coal. A cigarette would be just a nice distraction or a relief for my stress. But this was not possible.
Was I already so addicted? Was the conviction or the ‘Not Guilty’ verdict already equated to a cigarette?
Why did I think so intensely of a cigarette precisely at this time?
I explained everything to the lawyer and the evidence that he presented to the court were such that there were no loopholes and no lies were known from my side. Everything I had was verified. Also the French were caught and court proceedings were going on due to verified smuggling.
Also the Hotel Poch in Munich was checked and they found exactly what I had stated. So what other evidence did they want for my innocence? Did I have to pay now for the matter in Beirut, which could have put me in jail? But that couldn't be possible!
My Dream to Be Free Page 21