LEGACY of COURAGE
A Holocaust Survival Story In Greece
by
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One dark and rainy evening, shortly after the BBC broadcast, there was a loud knock on our front door. When my mother opened the door an SS officer in black uniform wearing an armband with a swastika faced her. Accompanying him were four German soldiers armed with automatic submachine guns and a Greek traitor who was brought as an interpreter. My mother without losing her composure or appearing scared, addressed herself directly to the Officer and said to him, in perfectly pronounced German, "We don’t need the services of this gentleman because I speak fluent German". The officer then turned to the Greek and dismissed him by simply saying "Rouse" which means, "Get out". With that my mother asked them all to come in and we could see a visible change in the attitude and manner of the German when he heard his own mother tongue spoken by an attractive, well mannered lady. My mother then proceeded to ask, "What can I do for you?" He replied, "We have reliable information that you people have a short wave radio." My mother laughed and said, " Did you say a radio? I am a poor refugee widow with four young children. Where will I get the money to buy a radio?" To that he replied, " Nevertheless, this is what we were told. You don’t mind if we search the house?" This was a rhetorical question and my mother knew that regardless of whether she minded or not they were going to conduct a search. So she immediately said, " Of course we don’t mind. We are always happy to cooperate with the authorities" and upon finishing her sentence she opened the door of the room where the radio was hidden and said, "Why don’t you start here"? The officer turned to his soldiers and issued an order. "Search the rest of the house. I will search this room myself". He undoubtedly thought that since she opened that room first the radio would most likely not be there. He then proceeded to make a perfunctory search of the room, looking under the bed and opening some of the drawers in our dresser. He also opened the door of the armoire, looked at the shelf inside but did not part the clothes. In the meantime he and my mother continued to have a pleasant conversation in German. My mother was asking him questions about his family and the place where he was born and raised and telling him that she was a philatelist, a collector and student of postage stamps, and that she had correspondence with other ladies from his part of the world for the purpose of exchanging stamps. He said, "You speak very good German, where did you learn it?" My mother told him that she had attended the German Academy, which was a lie. Shortly after the four soldiers returned and reported that they did not find any radio. The German officer then clicked his heels saluted and said, "A million pardons, gracious lady for disturbing your home. Obviously we were misinformed." My mother replied, "Please think nothing of it, I’ve enjoyed talking to you. It is not very often that I get a chance to practice my German." The two of them then side by side were slowly heading towards the front door when he noticed an antenna wire coming down from the ceiling. He quickly made an about face and shouted, "Aha! If you don’t have a radio why do you need an antenna?" We all realized at that critical moment that our lives hinged on my mother’s reply. We stood motionless, paralyzed with fear holding our breath and waiting to hear what she was going to say. My mother then smiled and said, "Now I know why you have information that there is a radio here. The previous tenant had a radio but he left a long time ago and I’ve never bothered to climb up there to remove the antenna wires since they don’t really bother me." He took another look at her, saw how calm she was and said, "That makes sense" and with those words he opened the front door and left. We took a deep breath glad to be alive and watched mother collapse into the nearest armchair. The Germans had converted the basement of one of the neighboring homes into a fuel dump. The fuel was used to power their trucks and armored cars. The fuel was stored in 55-gallon steel drums and into smaller canisters of the type that could be strapped on the side of a vehicle. The dump was always heavily guarded. I began to spend time in that area trying to strike up a conversation with the sentries that were on duty. Since I was just a 13-year-old kid, probably the same age as some of their own children, they did not regard me as being particularly dangerous. Also, the fact that I was someone new for them to talk to helped break up the monotony of the hours they spent on sentry duty. Of course this was strictly forbidden and we had to be careful not to be observed. In a short time I got to know all the guards by their first names and began working on them and trying to find out what they wanted so that I could trade for a gallon of gasoline. Eventually I began trading, swapping a dozen eggs or a pair of silk stockings for a gallon of gasoline. I brought along an empty one-gallon tin can that said "OLIVE OIL" on the label. The guards would let me sneak in the basement where the fuel was kept. I would then quickly fill my can from an open 55-gallon drum equipped with a hand pump and run out. The whole transaction took less than 3 minutes but it seemed much longer. This ritual took place about once a week. One day the guards told me, " No. We cannot let you in any more. Things are really getting tight. The Sergeant is getting suspicious and we are afraid of getting caught." I said "You will let me fill my can or I will tell your Sergeant that you were letting me steal gasoline for a month whenever you were on sentry duty." I now shudder when I reflect on how reckless and stupidly dangerous this was. Here I was an unarmed young boy, a mere child, blackmailing two armed German guards who could shoot me on the spot and probably get a medal for it. All they had to say is that they saw me trying to break into the fuel depot. I guess it is true that God protects the fools and feebleminded because the guards were frightened by my threats and they said," All right, go ahead but make it quick". As I entered the fuel damp it occurred to me that this was probably the last time I was going to be able to do this and that my gasoline-trading career was about to end. At that point an idea began to form in my mind that both frightened me and excited me at the same time: "START A FIRE AND BURN THE FUEL". I knew that the guards, if they survived, could not point the finger at me without implicating themselves for which they would surely be shot. So it seemed to be a pretty safe bet that I could strike a blow for freedom without being caught. I entered the basement and quickly filled up my can with gasoline. I then took out of my pocket one of those crude cigarette lighters I sold to the peasants. The lighter consisted of a flint that would give a spark when you turned with your thumb the small metal wheel located adjacent
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About the Book
Most Holocaust survival stories are based on characters who, by the grace of God, survived the horrors of the Death Camps and were able to describe the brutality and torture they had have endured as well as the fate of million of other innocent victims that died in the gas chambers. This book describes a very different survival story. It is the tale of a Jewish family during the German occupation of Greece, who decided, early on, that the best way to escape deportation and ultimately survive was to resist. This is a tale of defiance, courage and stubborn refusal to obey the German directives that were designed to lead an entire Jewish population like lambs to the slaughter. It is a compelling story as seen through the eyes of a young boy that was suddenly snatched from a life of comfort and forced to assume roles that no one had prepared him for and to become a thief, a saboteur, a black marketeer and a resistance fighter. The heroine of this story is the mother, who became a widow at the age of 41 after her husband was killed fighting for the Greek resistance. Despite her aristocratic background and affluent parents she was able to adapt to the dire circumstances of the German occupation take the reins and lead the family through an extraordinary voyage of constant danger, starvation, hiding and resistance. This long journey involved many close calls and narrow escapes. Her ability to remain calm and not cave in when facing the most dangerous challenges and situations was a major factor in our successfully eluding capture and ultimately survive. Starting with the brief period of calm, affluence and comfort that preceded the Bulgarian invasion of Greece our story guides the reader through a complex, intriguing and cunning escape route that involved being exiled three times, living in constant danger and uncertainty and constantly running at times one step away from the captors. By joining the resistance movement each member of the family faced its own challenges and managed to survive, sometimes due to a blatant and naïve ignorance of the dangers involved and at other times due to circumstances were lady luck played its role This story is woven in the fabric of perhaps not very well known facts about Greece’s struggle for independence from the armies of occupation. The nature and composition of the major resistance units is revealed as well as the historic roles, origins, and ultimate fate of the Jewish population of Greece. It is a story of intrigue, courage and adventure, at time humorous, at times sad but always interesting and exiting.
About the Author
The author is a native of Greece where during WW II, at a very early age, was forced to abandon his home and flee to avoid capture by the Germans and deportation to the death camps. The family managed to survive and narrowly escape capture by defying the German orders and ultimately joining the resistance movement. This book is a detailed account of the trials and tribulations the family went through in order to survive At the end of the war the author migrated to the United States and enrolled at City College of New York graduating "" Magna Cum Laude" and Phi Beta Kappa. He pursued graduate studies at Stanford University and earned a Ph.D. degree. He then joined the faculty and administration of Chapman University where he served as a professor of Chemistry, Chairman of the chemistry department, Chairman of the Division of Natural Sciences and associate Vice President of Academic Affairs. Dr. Kakis received numerous grants and conduced a variety of research programs involving students. He carried out postdoctoral research under the auspices of The Oak Ridge National Laboratory, the National Science Foundation, NASA, and the Department of Defense. In 1970-71 he was on sabbatical as a visiting Professor at the Ecole Polytechnique in Paris, France. Dr.Kakis is a popular speaker and a prolific writer He has written many scientific papers and contributed numerous articles to National and International Journals and publications. He has published a well-known book entitled "Drugs-Facts and Fictions." and was one of the co-authors of a book on Steroid s. For a number of years he had his own Forensic Column in a magazine entitled " Claims People." Dr. Kakis received numerous honors and awards. Among them a senior Fulbright Fellowship and Citations from NASA and the American Institute of Chemists. His biography is listed in American Men of Science and most of the major "Who is who" Directories.