During the Occupation, my brother, I remember that lots of his friends who were in the Resistance would gather…they’d come round to our house…very often…and they’d talk. But I was really curious, and one time I hid under the table – it had a long table cloth, so I hid under the table and heard everything they said, but didn’t understand any of it…because I was very young and had no idea about such things. My big brother, Panagiotis, was involved with the political organisation. My other brother, Stavros, was with the guerillas in the mountains.

I remember the war - when it was declared and all the young men went off to the war - and all those things we heard – we’d go to listen to the radio, though I didn’t understand what they were talking about - and then the Italians coming. Albania fell, let’s say, and the Italians arrived. We didn’t have too much of a problem with the Italians… yes, the Italians were better in a way. The big problems started when the Italians left and the Germans came. First of all, they seized all the key points in the city, set up guard houses all over the place… they lived in them, they’d commandeered houses…and did all sorts, until they wouldn’t even let us get water from the public hydrant…they locked it. They put a padlock on it and we couldn’t get any water. And they set times when it was allowed to be out on the street, but they gave us three hours a day at most. What could you get done in 3 hours?, let’s say from 9 till 12, and at one minute past 12, they’d shoot you dead. They did kill people…one minute past 12, with one foot inside the door and the other on the street. A teacher was looking out of her window and they shot and killed her.

And we wanted to go out into the garden to pick some greens, but we didn’t even have time for that, or to gather wood. We didn’t have any bread, we didn’t have anything…we didn’t have time to do anything, to go to our fields and come back. We’d crawl around that garden of ours so we wouldn’t be heard, and if we heard marching boots, we’d run. We were very, very hungry at that time…very hungry, indeed. There was a little kid - must have been around 5 years old, 4 or 5 years old - who’d go round the neighbourhood saying "I’m hungry, I’m hungry, I’m hungry". There are two voices deep in my soul that I’ll never forget…that little kid’s and another kid.

There was a battle one night in Messini, where I lived…a battle in my village… between the Germans, the local blackshirts and the partisans, who’d come down off the mountain… and they shot a young lad who cried out for help all night… and no one went out to get him because they couldn’t go out, not because no one wanted to…to go out …there were Germans and blackshirts all over the place…the blackshirts were up on the roof of the bank…and he shouted out for help all night "Help!, help! help!".

Then there were the road blocks… the Germans and the local blackshirts would block all the roads together. They’d seize all the men on the streets and herd them together into the square. There was - there still is - a big clock there in the square…and they’d herd them all together in the square and there’d be an informer there - one of the local blackshirts - and let’s say that he knew who was with the partisans up in the mountains, with the Resistance, and he knew who their parents were, too. And he’d say "Him. Take him".

They arrested my father many, many times. And they told him "Tell us where Panagiotis is!" - Panagiotis is my elder brother who was involved in the political organisation. They didn’t know anything about my other brother…that he was with the partisans. And my father was in jail many times. He’d spend 20 days, or 2, even 3 months in jail, and one night we thought that they must have killed him because there was a night battle in Messini and they blew up a house where the local blackshirts were billeted, and where they kept their prisoners, as well. But the blackshirts had caught the man who’d tipped the partisans off and had already left, taking their prisoners with them, before the partisans blew the house up. The partisans didn’t know this and they blew up the house and we thought that our father was no more, that he was gone. I used to go to where the Germans had their prisoners to see my father and bring him food to eat in jail.

There was a really big road block one day and my brother didn’t leave in time, my big brother Panagiotis, that is. He didn’t have time to get away…and we had a dry well in our garden. There was no water in the well, and we put grass on top and we hid him in there…we put him down the well and hid him. One evening – we used to hide him all day - but that evening we didn’t hide him quickly enough and they caught him. They seized him and took him - they’d seized lots of men - they took him down to the square, and a woman saw him, she was a baker’s wife, and as soon as she saw him she says "That’s the end of Panagiotis. He’s not going to get out of this one!" and somehow or other she got hold of him and gave him a hat and an apron right away so he’d look like a baker. He got away that day. As soon as the others had gone, he left and climbed up a sycamine tree and stayed for I don’t know how long up there in that tree. It was spring and there were a lot of leaves on the tree, and he stayed up there for hours and hours until it was dark and he finally got out of the village.

My other brother turned up one evening because they’d told him they’d got my brother and my father… he sneaked down off the mountain one evening in his partisan uniform…my other brother, Stavros, and we couldn’t believe it when we saw him. He stayed half an hour or so and left…he left during the night.

Anyway, one day the partisans killed one of the local blackshirts…it was one afternoon that they killed a blackshirt. Me and my brother Panagiotis were in the garden. Right after the fascist was killed, the Germans and the local blackshirts burned a whole city block to the ground - 17 houses - and the people didn’t even have time to get a hankerchief from inside. And they seized 9 men and one Italian that a teacher had been sheltering - it was a maths teacher who hid him…he might or might not have been with the partisans, but he was hiding the Italian…Mario, I remember him. And the next day they lined them up in the square and shot them…all 9 Greeks plus the Italian. And my brother Panagiotis said "Katina, go and see what’s happening." We saw the fires burning, "Go see what’s happening." So I go down into town and I head for the square to take a look, to see what’s been going on from close up. So I go there and they wouldn’t let us get very close, but I saw the corpses down there in the square…they hadn’t taken them away yet, they hadn’t picked them up…and they ordered us to go.

As I was passing the bakery where I told you they’d hidden my brother, the local blackshirts had 4 lambs hung up, and 2 baskets of potatoes this size, and as I was going past, they grabbed me and told me to peel the potatoes. They asked me who’s kid I was, and when I’d peeled the potatoes I said "Let me go. My mother’ll be looking for me." And he asked me "Who’s kid are you?" and I told him who I was and he said "Where’s Panagiotis?" "I don’t know where Panagiotis is", I said, and he said "You do know, you’re just not telling us." "I don’t know. Catch him if you can find him", I said. That’s what I always said to them, "Catch him if you can find him!" Once we’d peeled the potatoes they put the lambs in the oven and started celebrating after the executions they’d carried out.

One evening they were coming round to burn our house down. My father had taken the doors and the windows off their hinges from the night before and laid them down in the garden like this. And I said, "Dad, why have you done that?", and he said, "Love, if they burn our house down, at least we’ll still have the windows so we’ll be able to hang them again and not freeze to death". Damn! It’s funny what you remember, isn’t it?

I remember one afternoon when the Germans - a city patrol - came up against the partisans. On the one side there were the partisans, and on the other the Germans and the local blackshirts. The blackshirts were very…we didn’t dare stand up to them. But let me make it clear to you that there were no blackshirts from my town, from the place where I was born. The people there were democrats, and I’m proud of that. Three or four of the blackshirts were from villages, so they weren’t really from Messini.

One day the blackshirts came and set up a road block. I saw them because our house was set back off the road - it was a long way back. They must have been about 30 metres away, and I saw them from a distance . My brother was asleep inside and as soon as I saw them I told him "Panagiotis, get up! The blackshirts are coming!" The blackshirts were under the command of Perotis back then…he was called Perotis. And my brother gets up and leaves…he takes his boots but he forgets his revolver. I stayed calm - I don’t know how - grabbed the gun and threw it into some long grass. They came in, and the first thing they did was ask me, "Where’s Panagiotis?" I told them "I don’t know." And because we were a big family - four children and two parents, that’s six in all, and we had a lot of beds - they asked me, "Who sleeps here, and who sleeps there?", and I told them. Then it was, "Where are your parents?" I said, "They’ve gone to work", and they finally left…they didn’t catch him, they were too late. When the road block had finished, I picked up the gun, put it in a basket, and took it to where my brother was living, out on the farm, in the fields.

They lived out there in the fields, and when in danger they’d scatter to different villages. The Germans didn’t go out into the villages, and neither did the blackshirts. Every now and then,they’d organise a raid on a village…they’d burn houses down and kill people. They burnt down a lot of houses, a lot of villages, the Germans and the blackshirts. They used to say, "You know there are partisans in that village, and the people there shelter and feed them"…that sort of thing. And the Germans would go there with the local blackshirts. and set fire to houses and kill people just like they did in Kalavrita…just the same as in Kalavrita where they killed about fifteen hundred people… how many did the Germans and the blackshirts kill in Kalavrita?

Afterwards…it’ll come back to me…

Afterwards, as soon as the Germans…

The blackshirts went round the houses and did things and took things…different things…girls’ dowries, clothes, all sorts - even tools and food. What didn't they take! They ransacked the houses…they left nothing behind. To give you some idea, we had some clothes, and because we were afraid they’d get destroyed, too, if they burnt down our house - and my mum had some really valuable things - we took them to another house, where they stole them from us! And the end result was that we never got them back. What else can I say? Afterwards…when the Germans wanted out…we got wind of it. Back then, I was…I didn’t know much about anything, but when I heard people shouting, "The Germans are leaving! The Germans are leaving!" the Germans really were leaving, but there was a river separating us - there’s a river a little way outside the city, the Pamisos, so…we crossed the river, and our boys started up right away and raised the flag on the clock tower. The Germans were on the opposite bank firing at them, and they wrecked both bridges, because a train crossed there…they destroyed both the railway tracks and the bridge for cars and pedestrians…they blew them both up and they fell into the river.

In the meantime, my brother Stavros - that’s the youngest one… well, no one knew he was with the partisans…not a soul. My mum had told everyone he’d gone to the village, or something like that. My elder sister didn’t go through any of this because she was in a village…she’d gone to live with her godfather in the village. It was just me that stayed at home. Yes, they didn’t know that my brother was with the partisans. Anyway, once it happened and the Germans left, the Germans left Kalamata, too, but the blackshirts didn’t. ELAS told them to hand over their weapons and give themselves up…they said they’d got the weapons off the Germans and that they would honour them…they’d fight for them…they’d fight for them to the last man…"Either we win, or God knows what’ll happen!" And a big group of them left…they got past the partisans, went as far as Meligala, and dug themselves in. And it was there at Meligala that the biggest battle was fought…where the famous Well of Meligala is. Lots of brave young lads died there…so many young men fell at Meligala.

In the meantime, a neighbour comes round in the evening - that happened in the morning and the Battle of Kalamata started that night. At the Battle of Kalamata…my elder brother Panagiotis took part in the Battle of Kalamata, but my younger brother Stavros’ unit was there, too. He was in the fighting and was wounded. The bullet went in one side and came out the other. In the meantime, a neighbour had been to Kalamata and seen my brother Stavros. My mother was sitting outside…everyone was outside. Of course, there wasn’t just my mother, and she asked for news and the neighbour said, "Mrs. Dimitroula, I saw your boy. He’s fine. He isn’t badly wounded", she says. And my mother, who had my big brother in mind, says, "Our Panagiotis?", and the neighbour says, "No, the little one, Stavros." So we set off then and there - me and my mother - for Kalamata.

But in the meantime, my mother falls into the river and breaks her leg, and they carried her in their arms through the night all the way to Kalamata. There was a celebration going on there. What with the resistance songs and everyone running about in high spirits, we spent hours searching for my brother. How were we supposed to find him in that commotion? Where could he be? And it there weren’t just the hospitals – because there wasn’t room for all the wounded, and they’d taken them to houses, too. My brother had been transferred to a house. We started looking in the afternoon, and we found him at dawn. We spent all night going around Kalamata looking for my brother. When we finally found him, my mum saw him and breathed a sigh of relief. And it was then that the…the big explosion happened.

The blackshirts were dug in upstairs in the "Pantheon" in Kalamata and there was no way they could get them to come down, so they blew it up. And …I’d never seen anything like it!…there whole building turned into a mass of red - the whole building. And the next day - so they say, because I certainly didn’t go to look for myself - the next day the fascists were just charred remains.

The people lynched anyone they got their hands on the next day…they lynched any blackshirt they caught, because they’d really caused a lot of suffering…people had suffered at their hands. No one got away…not a soul, not a single kid…not a single house, either. We were terrified when we saw them. We were terrified of the Germans, and we were terrified of the blackshirts. We just had to hear the sound of boots and we’d start shaking uncontrollably. We couldn’t walk around freely in the streets. And the blackshirts were exactly the same, they were doing exactly the same thing. In fact, I can say they were responsible for more, despite the nice things they say about them now…

So, once my brother had regained his strength, he went on with his unit and went to Mystra where the Battle of Mystra took place in Taygetus, and he was wounded there again - for the second time - and showed up at home a wreck, his body full of…My little brother…he’d been fighting them…he’d been fighting against…I think it was the blackshirts, then. Yes, it was against the blackshirts…because the Germans had gone…and his whole body was covered with pus-filled boils…his whole body. I remember my mother putting him in the tub and washing him and then covering him in sulphur. He very nearly died…he was, how old could he have been?…twenty years old, my little brother Stavros.

He’d been through so much in the mountains. Sometimes it’s confusing…but I remember what happened back then. I don’t know…those things have stuck in my memory. He was ill recently and I went to see him every day, and that’s all we talked about. He told me what it was like in the mountains, the battles they fought. They’d fought a battle at Chora….that’s where their commander, Sfakianakis, was killed…he was killed at Chora. And I remember that he’d got a…he came to the house then…he’d taken a nice one from the Germans, a nice…They were killed - it was a real disaster for the Germans…they captured a whole regiment - but Sfakianakis, their commander, was killed and they buried him at Maniaki…that’s where they buried him.

And I was talking with my brother about so many things…what happened, how they got over Taygetus on foot, how they climbed up Taygetus and made it over to the other side. That’s what we talked about all the time. We were very close.

And then Liberation came along, and they said they had to hand over their guns. My big brother, Panagiotis, had a gun and he didn’t want to hand it over, and neither did Stavros, so he hid the big rifle he had. But people persuaded my mother that the blackshirts were going to kill him, that they’d do things to him, because they knew, the blackshirts knew – the Maides…that’s what they called them back then. It was after the English, after all those things that happened…after Varkiza…who was in charge? They were in charge, and we called them the Maides. And they’d seize people on the road, anyone who was - who they knew had been - in the Resistance. They didn’t care where they were, they just grabbed them and beat the hell out to them. It happened…that sort of thing happened. At night they’d break into houses and no one got away…they’d beat them, they’d cut the girls’ hair off…and one night, my mother went and handed over the rifle. She went to some people, told them she was going to hand it over and all that, and they went and handed over the gun. My brothers didn’t want to hand over their weapons, not for anything. But when all of this happened, Stavros got up and left the village. He left, got into a truck - secretly, he didn’t even tell my mother and father that he was leaving - and came to Athens. If only my older brother had left, too, because he’d have got away.

My big brother was in ELAS - he was – but he’d never done anyone any harm, he’d never hurt a soul…everyone joined ELAS back then to fight the Germans. What did those kids know about Communism then, those young kids? And they weren’t educated kids like my husband, who, let’s say, knew what he believed in, because he was on a good level…he was educated, he’d been to school and talked about these things. My brothers hadn’t even been to High School. Do you see? And those blackshirts…they arrested my big brother, Panagiotis. The Germans…no they weren’t there any more. Yes, the Germans had gone and it was all of them afterwards…all of them who stayed behind. The blackshirts were in charge again. Yes, the blackshirts were in charge again. As if anyone else was in charge…now they talk highly about Papandreou, Georgos Papandreou. It was him that soaked Greece in blood…Georgos Papandreou. It was them that arrested people, it was them that ruled back then, and them that picked up my brother and took him to jail without an investigation or anything.

He was in jail for so many months, and there never was a hearing. And my father had found upstanding citizens as witnesses in case there was a trial…but there never was a trial…and they’d stage mock executions in jail, and did all sorts to them, and the lad… he had a high fever and his heart just couldn’t take it. They didn’t inform us, and he got myocarditis. They informed us when he was on death’s door…they told us to come and get him, and the doctor said, "If…" – they had had him in the hospital in Alexandraki…and the doctor told us that just carrying him as far as the stairs would kill him. Me and my mother were with him in hospital - we sat with him night and day - and he died in my arms. It was July 20,1945, at ten o’clock at night. They said they should carry him down to the mortuary. But neither the nurses nor the other prisoners who were in jail would do it, and they left him in his bed all night. We brought some oil and lit a candle for him, and the next morning they took him down to the chapel and my father arrived, they’d informed him. Just imagine…I walked from Kalamata to Messini – about two and a half hours on foot - because I thought I’d be quicker than the car. And I set off at night - because there were no telephones then - to tell my father that my brother had passed away. And at his funeral, they didn’t bury him with the others…because he was a Communist. They buried him with the little children, and we said then that since as he was a little kid, too, and innocent, that’s how his soul will be with the little children.