by Leah Fleming
Nikos threw his hands in the air in horror when Penny confessed her mistake. ‘Are you crazy, girl? Do you want us all arrested? Lucky you were given one of our men to interview you, one of our regulars who keeps us up to date with anything we should know.’
‘I’m sorry but it was terrible to see those bullies in the street.’
‘It will get worse before it gets better,’ Nikos replied, flicking his beads and throwing his head back in agitation. ‘They have to blame someone now Kreipe is gone. Jews are always the first to be taken hostage and there are rumours they are clearing them out of cities on the mainland in thousands, taking them up north to work in camps. It’s only a matter of time.’
‘We ought to warn them,’ Penny said, thinking of Yolanda’s parents.
‘What did our friend tell you? Keep your nose out of what you can’t control. If they take you, we can’t protect you from torture. When Stella is better you must head back into the mountains, though that’ll need a travel permit and they are not so easy to forge. Keep your head down and be careful who you speak to. Things are quiet just now, too quiet, but it’s better just to carry on and sit it out.’
Penny felt uneasy after what she’d witnessed. Nikos was right to be cautious. She didn’t even know who she was any more: one minute a student, then nurse, farm hand, waitress, like a chameleon changing colours, from a British deb with a Greek name now passing herself off as a Cretan. It was all so unreal, living in this nightmare world where one false move could cost the lives of so many.
That night she had a nightmare: trying to jump into deep water, figures chasing after her, pushing her where she didn’t want to go. She woke sweating. Chania was no longer a safe hiding place; it was time to climb out of danger. She felt a strange foreboding of danger, a feeling in her gut that all was not well.
Rainer returned from the abortive mission to find Kreipe with only a few prisoners in tow. Androulakis had escaped. Stavros had been taken because Rainer was not so sure of his loyalty now, but the Greek protested his innocence vehemently when interrogated.
‘How was I to know you were spotted and the second group held back to make the ambush. The British agent is a cunning devil and his men have the advantage of knowing every bloody nook and cranny in these godforsaken mountains.’ He was nervous when they dragged him out of the cell for questioning. They knocked him around so when he returned with bruises his story about being one of the andartes would be reinforced.
Rainer’s commanding officer was unimpressed with the whole outcome of Rainer’s mission. ‘No excuses. This time you will oversee something that will not go wrong, executed with the utmost surprise and secrecy. We have orders to deport all the Jews here to Athens.’
‘There has been no trouble from that quarter,’ Rainer replied. ‘What’s the rush?’
‘Orders, Major Brecht. The final solution to the problems they have caused worldwide must be completed. It is already in hand. We have a list updated by the rabbi himself, and every one of them must be accounted for . . . babies, children.’
Rainer stared out of the window shaking his head.
‘Every newborn of their race is our enemy. The evils of Europe are to be laid at their door. You will see every exit and entrance is cordoned off, that transport is waiting, so the exercise will be swift and efficient and done before dawn.’
‘Where are they to be taken?’
‘To Agia, of course, to be sealed off in the prison until arrangements are made and so we can bring in any outlying Jews.’
Rainer took a deep breath. From the heights of commanding those brave paratroopers, to this: pushing women and children onto trucks, shoving them in that filthy hellhole. Is this what his army career had come to, obeying such orders? In his heart he realized this was a step too far. Every decent humane reason urged him to refuse to obey. What the hell should he do now?
It was like old times, sleeping in the basement of the clinic as Yolanda had done in the bombing raids in 1941, lying on a mattress among familiar hospital shelves with the scents of Lysol and ether. She’d been welcomed in, fed a hot stew, checked over. Now she was resting with her feet up. No one had news of Andreas but someone who knew someone in the police assured her that he was not being held prisoner. The doctor was too well known and respected not to have been sprung from gaol by sympathetic police officers. Now Yolanda felt the ache in her back loosen and she hugged her stomach with relief. Perhaps he would live to see his baby born after all. When she was rested she would go back to the Jewish quarter to make peace with her parents. She must make the first move . . . But the next morning she felt so exhausted and achy, no one would let her move from her mattress so she sank back and slept while she had the chance.
Penny was woken by the roar of trucks grinding through the streets. There was a racket outside as if troops had landed in the harbour, and a flicker of arc lights through the open window had them all on their feet. It was still the middle of the night.
‘What’s happening?’ Penny muttered, fearing a raid on them. She flung on her dress and peered out of the window to see a line of trucks backing up.
‘Don’t go out!’ Nikos shouted. ‘Don’t move.’
Penny nodded, but across the square, faces peered out at the noise and shutters were hurriedly closed. She crept through the kafenion to the stairs up to the balcony that gave a better view and, opening the door, peered out. She watched as a battalion of soldiers raced round through the streets with loudspeakers. ‘Out! Out! Jews out!’ She could hear screams of alarm, doors bashed, dogs barking. ‘Ten minutes with food and one bag, one bag only . . . Out! Out!’
‘They’re in the Jewish quarter, taking them out of their houses onto the street,’ she cried.
‘Close the shutters and stay indoors. This is none of our business,’ snapped Nikos. Penny could see a straggle of men and women with sleepy children, half dressed, whole families forming queues while soldiers barked orders at them as if they were criminals. She stood silent, watching them being pushed onto trucks. No one had had time to gather much to take with them on their backs. Children were clutching toys and bits of bread while their neighbours, roused by the noise, stood by silent at first, then waving and shouting to their friends as if they were going on a journey,
‘We ought to be doing something,’ Penny muttered, but Stella shook her head.
‘There’re too many of those black sheep with guns. We’ll save our bullets for where we can harm them most.’
‘But I know some of them . . . my friends . . . oh my God, Solomon and Sara! I must go . . .’
‘Athina! Don’t be a fool . . .’
Penny was out of the door, racing down the street, pushing through the crowds. ‘Where are they taking them?’ she asked a woman standing watching.
She shrugged. ‘To prison, where all prisoners go, and good riddance.’
Penny ran on, trying to catch glimpses of Yolanda’s family, but it was hard to see who was who in the half-light. It was then that she looked up and saw Captain Brecht, standing tall, his arms folded, watching his animals behaving like bully boys as if this was some victory parade to be proud of.
There was a confusion of children crying, some separated from their parents, girls crying to friends. ‘Take my books . . . tell Maria I will write when we are settled . . .’ Many voices lost in the flowing river of faces.
The stragglers limped slowly at the back, one of them a woman hobbling on two sticks with as much dignity as she could muster. The soldiers grew impatient, dragging her off her feet. ‘You will have to wait,’ she said.
An old couple found it hard to walk and she saw a soldier kick them as if they were mules. Penny couldn’t help herself: fury propelled her forward. ‘I will help you,’ she whispered. ‘Take my arm.’ It wasn’t Sara and Solomon – that was too much to hope for – but they held onto her arms. ‘We will do this together,’ she smiled. ‘I am Red Cross. We will see you treated well,’ she added, giving the soldier a look of utter contempt. �
�We Greeks know how to treat our old people even if you don’t. Shame on you, show some respect!’
For one second he was taken aback by this rebuke but, not wanting to lose face, he shoved his rifle in her chest. ‘If you love Jews so much, get up there yourself.’
It all happened so fast. One minute she was escorting the old couple to the trucks and then she was shoved on, herself, with no time to protest. All she could think of was how the old lady would get up, she was so crippled, but they threw her up like garbage. Penny was stunned but she held her head up high and stared hard at the officer. She fingered her Red Cross badge pinned on the inside of her pocket. So, Captain, this is all your doing. Someone must be witness to what is happening here, she thought. It looks as if it’s going to have to be me . . .
Rainer supervised the arrests of the civilians like an automaton. The pathetic sight of women and children shoved through the narrow alleys in a funnel to collecting points was sickening. It was their usual efficient, ruthless oppression, no different from other villages where people were roused from their beds, lined up, executed, and their homes destroyed. Why was this act, just one among many, any different? Surely it destroyed the last crumbling hope of any future rapprochement with the Cretan population?
He felt ashamed, all his previous efforts to be merciful thrown into question as he stood by and watched these families going to certain death.
No one protested because the Nazis had perfected a regime of fear and obedience. These people were now too hungry and demoralized to make any fuss, though one girl had stood out.
He watched her helping the stricken couple and for her trouble she was arrested with them. He was too far away to step in and plead her cause. It was only when she stood up in the truck, defiant, that he recognized her face.
The cave nurse looked across at him. She recognized him and saw him for what he was now: contaminated, polluted by this cowardly act of hate and cruelty. He felt sick to his stomach. That stare of contempt would live with him for the rest of his life, a stare that stripped him bare of hope and dignity.
Yolanda awoke after her long sleep, refreshed, but the atmosphere among the nurses had changed overnight as they tiptoed round, not looking her. Everyone was smiling with their lips but not their eyes and kept telling her to stay put. What on earth was going on? Had they heard bad news of Andreas?
‘Why’s everyone not looking at me? It’s Andreas . . .’
‘No, Yolanda, calm yourself, it’s not that.’ The doctor paused. ‘It’s just that we heard there’d been a raid in the night, well, more of a round-up.’
‘So?’ She rose, knowing it was time to leave this safe haven.
‘In the Jewish quarter. They’ve taken away all the Jews they could find.’
‘I don’t understand,’ she cried, making for the door.
‘Your parents still live there?’ he asked as he wiped his glasses.
‘Yes, yes, and Uncle Joseph and Aunt Miriam.’
‘I’m afraid all the streets have been cleared.’
Yolanda could hardly take in what he was saying. It seemed too big, too terrible an act, even for their enemies here. ‘No, no, this can’t be true. Not all of them? I must go and see for myself.’
‘That wouldn’t be wise. There’s a list and you will be on it. It may not be safe yet.’
‘Where have they taken them?’ she cried.
‘I don’t know yet, we can’t ask these things. You know how dependent we are on the garrison hospital for relief supplies.’
‘But we are Red Cross. They can’t let such a thing happen. I must find out if my family are safe,’ she said, ignoring his warning.
‘Yolanda, calm down. You need to rest those ankles. I’m sure the Red Cross officials will be monitoring the deportation.’
‘How can you be sure? I have to go and see for myself. This can’t be true. Why didn’t their neighbours stop them?’ She flung on her cloak.
He knew there was no stopping her. ‘Oh, do be careful. If you must go, wear this uniform and no one will challenge you. I wish I hadn’t told you so soon. There’s nothing you can do.’
‘I have a right to find out what’s happened.’
‘Please, Yolanda, if you protest and they find out who you are, you’ll be deported too.’
Once dressed in a nurse’s uniform, she made for the harbour as fast as her swollen legs would carry her, hoping that, by some miracle, this was all a false rumour.
She saw others rushing uphill carrying rugs and pots and furniture on their backs, and with a sickened heart she realized these things were looted. When she arrived the sight made her weep. Every house was stripped to the floorboards, stuff chucked out of balcony windows, women fighting over bedding and even feather pillows. Strangers were rifling through homes like vultures picking over bones. The streets were littered with torn photographs, pretzels and biscuits scattered on the cobbles, trampled into crumbs, picture frames smashed to release any silver. Such desecration stunned her to the point of numbness. There was nothing she could do to stop it, and in the distance soldiers merely stood around observing, laughing and joking.
How could human beings do this to each other? How could neighbours stand by and let this happen? Had they no decency?
Yolanda froze, the scream of protest rising up in her throat quashed by the sights before her. The whole community was gone! The saintly friends, the nosy neighbours, the rabbi and his family, and her beloved parents, all gone, and she knew she would never see them again in this life. She crumpled to the ground in agony.
A young woman rushed to her aid, lifting her up, leading her to her door. ‘I know you, you’re one of the Markos family, the nurse.’
Yolanda shivered at this recognition but the girl smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll say nothing. I’m so ashamed for us all. They were our friends and neighbours. My daughter is weeping for her school friends. Your family were good people. Come inside, you should not be seeing such things. The soldiers were in the houses the minute the people were removed, rough types searching for treasure. They looted down to the very door nails,’ she said, making Yolanda sit on a chair. She brought her a glass of water from a jug. ‘Drink, you are so pale. When they had their fill they let in the scum of Chania to take what is left, and still they search everywhere, tearing down walls in case jewels and gold are hidden. I tell you, who would live here in this rabbit warren if they had gold to sell? Beg pardon, I don’t mean to offend, but it’s a day that brings shame on all of Chania. It will not be forgotten. Now you must go. If I have recognized you, others will too, and I cannot vouch for their loyalty. Shame doesn’t bring out the best in us. Don’t ever come back while the enemy is here.’
But Yolanda wasn’t listening. She doubled up again in agony as a wave of pain surged from her back into her groin.
‘What is happening here? It’s too soon. Please help me . . .’ she appealed to the young woman. Then she knew no more.
June 1944
Rainer Brecht stood to attention before the commandant, erect, smartly turned out. ‘I would like to volunteer for transfer onto mainland Europe, sir,’ he said, looking straight ahead. His superior looked up from his desk in surprise.
‘Think again, Major Brecht. Why now? Have we not promoted you enough? Are you tiring of sunshine and warm sea?’
‘I feel it’s my duty to serve my country where I am needed most,’ he offered, still looking ahead. He could give no rational explanation for this decision, only that he must redeem his honour, challenge himself in a proper theatre of war.
‘What’s brought this on? Not the Jew deportation? I heard you found it distasteful. It’s not wise to air such sentiments in public, young man. You have a good and varied service record here, and are held in respect by your men. You set a good example. You are needed here.’
‘Sir, I know there may be heavy losses to be replaced. I would like to fight wherever I can be useful in an active capacity. I feel I have had my turn in the sun. I just want to serve.�
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‘Plug the gaps, you mean? Do you really want the eastern front or France? However, I can see you’ve made up your mind and I admire your courage. It will be a hard slog now to defend all we’ve gained. Who knows where it will end? Take some leave in Athens. We can fly you out . . .’
‘Could I request to sail, sir? I flew onto the island, I’d like to return by water, as part of my leave, of course.’
‘The Sea of Crete is not as safe as it once was. British and Italian submarines are on the prowl, but as you wish. I shall be sorry to lose you.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Rainer saluted, suddenly feeling lighter. He was running away, perhaps to certain death, but he wouldn’t stay on this cursed island a moment longer.
May 2001
‘Do you mean to tell us, where we had supper last night was where all of it happened?’ Lois gripped my hand. ‘I’d no idea. Granny never told us.’
‘My sister, Effy, didn’t know. I’ve never told anyone this before. It’s a terrible story and no one talked of such things after the war was over. We all wanted to forget and get on with our lives. Evadne and Walter were posted abroad when your mother was born. Zander made it home, almost in one piece. We shoved all such unpleasantness under the carpet. The only person I would’ve shared any of it with was my father, and he had died. My mother was not speaking to me. That’s how it was, but I’m not sure ignoring terrible events in your life is the best way. Looking back now, I don’t know how I survived.’
‘Your friend, did she survive the roundup?’
‘No. She disappeared, as did so many Jews. Things were chaotic for years afterwards. Greece was torn apart so many of the Resistance fighters took sides in the civil war and were executed by their own people. I wrote to people who might know what happened to Yolanda, of course, but nothing came of it. But now I am here, I will ask around. I’d like to pay my respects.