Kostas, with Froso by his side, was driving the cart. At the back sat Eleni with the children. Kostas had calculated that they would reach Trabzon from Oinoe in eight to ten days. Upon arrival, Kostas sold the cart as planned and then bought the tickets. The harbor was already bustling with people waiting to depart for Thessaloniki. Shortly thereafter, they headed toward the gate from which their ship would sail. The two women looked around anxiously, as it was their first time encountering such a large crowd in a big city like Trabzon. In contrast, the children were excited about the adventure, running around under the watchful eyes of their mother and grandmother.

“So many people! Do all of them want to go to Greece? How many will Greece be able to embrace? What will become of us?” muttered old Froso aloud.

Eleni and Kostas looked at her with frightened eyes, but Kostas’s expression quickly turned furious. “What are you saying, woman? Of course, we will settle in Greece. We are Greeks, and Greece will be our homeland from now on.” His words sounded confident, but his wife had voiced exactly what he feared deep inside. Since the moment they abandoned their house and village, he had been troubled by what Thessaloniki held in store for them. This uncertainty tormented him and fed his nervousness. A loud whistle shook him from his dark thoughts; it was the signal that boarding had begun, and the crowd surged forward to secure a better place. Naturally, the first quarrels among the agitated crowd were not long in coming. Amid the uproar, old Froso held one grandchild in each hand, while Eleni and Kostas carried their few belongings. In the chaos, a young couple caught Kostas’s attention. The young woman was terrified and on the verge of tears; her husband comforted her, telling her everything would be all right. This scene moved Kostas, and he approached them.

“Are you traveling alone?” he asked them politely.

“Yes, all alone. We don’t have a single relative in this world anymore, so we decided to make a new start in Greece,” the young man replied, his voice trembling. The girl beside him burst into tears.

With curiosity, tinged with hesitation, Kostas asked further what had happened to them. The young man explained that they had been wandering for days after losing all their relatives in a sudden attack by irregular militia. Their only hope now was to start anew in the distant homeland, Greece. Touched by their tragic story, Kostas felt a moral duty to help, not to leave these young people to their ruthless fate, so he advised them to stay close to him and his family. Meanwhile, the crowd thickened around them, raising their concerns about making it onto the ship. After some time, the Karakasidis family and their two new companions found a corner on the deck of the ship that would shelter them for their long journey.

The cold air swirled around their bodies; wrapped tightly in their coats and blankets, they tried to keep warm. They stared at the dark sea that expanded endlessly around the ship. After a while, Sergios felt ready to start unfolding their bitter story.

They came from Kotyora and made their living by cultivating fields and producing dairy products. Their families shared a long-standing friendship that began in their early childhood, almost from the cradle; the two of them spent every day together. They enjoyed a carefree childhood, playing games and celebrating at feasts. However, as they entered adolescence, they started to notice changes in their emotions and relationship. They realized they needed each other more than ever, and if they did not see each other even briefly during the day, it felt as if someone were cutting off their breath. Their parents noticed the birth of these new feelings between them and, to avoid a potential scandal, decided that they could only meet in the presence of a third person from then on. They accepted this arrangement without objection, because it was enough for them simply to be together.
The years passed happily, and although there were occasional struggles, having each other made everything worthwhile. Naturally, over time, it became widely accepted in the village that they would one day marry.

However, fate soon knocked at the door. The frequency of raids against Christians in the surrounding regions was on the rise. Terrifying stories reached their ears, incidents of bloody robberies, public beatings, and rapes. People were killed at will, and orphans and children were taken from their parents and handed over to Muslim families for Islamization. These acts of violence, which began elsewhere, quickly spread to Kotyora. As a precaution, their families decided to marry them within a week, with only close relatives and friends. After the wedding, little changed in their lives, except that Anthi moved into Sergio’s home for safety rather than building their own. Sergio continued helping his father with the fields and the cows, while Anthi helped his mother at home. This became their new routine, and they spent Sundays gathering around the ritual Sunday table, sometimes at their house and sometimes at his in-laws’. The weeks passed beautifully and happily until one day the bandits appeared in their village, conducting patrols. During those days, he and his father avoided going to their fields and, staying safely at home, tended only the cows in the stable next to it.

As they were eating, one night, wild shouts and cries pierced the silence. Sergio rushed to the window to see what was happening, and a terrible fear seized him. Their neighbor Antonis’s house was on fire. As he described what he saw, his mother let out a loud scream, and in two quick strides, his father joined him at the window. At that moment, they witnessed two men holding Antonis while a third man mercilessly beat him with the long stock of a gun. Antoni’s wife, Elisavet, pleaded with them not to harm their little son; she offered herself in his place. Petros, the five-year-old boy, was dragged by the fourth man in the group to the middle of the yard and, shocked by what was unfolding before his innocent eyes, burst into tears. Then the man holding Elisavet found himself beside the child in the blink of an eye and, with one swift movement, slit his throat. Blood fountained from his little neck, and Elisavet’s anguished cry tore out of her, inhuman clawing at everyone who heard it. The tragic picture before him made Sergios nauseated, but he could not look away; his eyes refused it.

Soon, Sergio’s father, Vangelis, regained his composure. He ordered everyone to bolt the house and turn off all the lights before they hid in the small underground storage room beneath the kitchen. Five people crowded into the room: Sergio, Anthi, Vangelis, his wife, Sotiria, and their little daughter, Christina.

Petros’s dead body remained in Sergio’s mind, and further, his thoughts turned to Antonis and Elisavet. He asked his father whether they should check on them, but he received an angry look. Sergio remained silent, haunted by the horrifying image of Petros’ dead body and the guilt over their inaction, until the next morning.

When they came out from the hideout, a strange silence filled the house. Following their usual morning routine, they opened the shutters, and the new light of day flooded the room. Their attention was drawn to the ashes and remnants of Antonis and Elisavet’s house, but both, along with Petros’s lifeless body, had disappeared. Without exchanging a word, each of them carried on with their routines. Sergios and his father went to milk the cows, Sotiria and her daughter-in-law prepared breakfast, and Christina tended to the chickens.

Just as they sat down to eat, a heavy knock at the door interrupted them. They looked at each other uneasily, each sharing the same thought: perhaps it was their turn. However, it turned out to be Nikos, the grocer, who had come to inform them that all the Christians in the village had been ordered to gather in the village square. Unfortunately, he had no further details to share. As he was leaving, he paused, and his expression darkened when he noticed, in the distance, the remains of the burned house. No explanation was needed; everyone understood what had happened. They all knew that any complaints to the authorities would go unheard, so he continued to inform the other villagers.

Everyone had gathered in the square by noon, united in an anguished stillness as they waited for the announcement. A Turkish officer arrived, accompanied by a fierce militia member. Both were armed with revolvers and appeared ready to use them at the slightest sign of resistance. With a loud, commanding voice, the officer requested that someone translate his announcement into Greek.

Even though everyone understood Turkish, he insisted on this procedure to prevent misunderstandings. After a long silence, Nikos, the grocer, raised his hand. The officer gave him the sign to step forward, and so Nikos began translating the announcement.

“The great General Kemal has ordered your transfer to Sivas, to ensure your safety. for your safety. You will remain there until further notice. Tomorrow morning at eight, you will depart from here, escorted and guarded by Turkish soldiers. Aside from horses and carts, you are not permitted to take any other livestock, as it will slow the journey.”

A murmur of questions arose after the brief announcement.

“What will happen to our property? Our houses, shops, and fields? Who will tend to our businesses and land?”

The grocer turned to the officer with a questioning look, but the officer, wearing an expression that seemed to warn him to leave immediately to avoid trouble, turned on his heel and departed without offering further explanation.

Shattered, they returned home, thinking over how to share the news with their loved ones. Sotiria, Christina, and Anthi were already waiting with hopeful anxiety, which vanished when they saw Vangelis and Sergio enter the house.

The square and the surrounding alleys were full of people the next morning. A few lucky ones had carts and horses, which would make their journey more comfortable. However, the reality for everyone was an unknown future. Rumors about the relocation of Christians spread among them, causing suspicion. Despite this, they accepted their fate, as they had no other choice.

The journey was serene at the beginning, though the road was challenging at times. Some areas began to thaw, forming muddy patches, while others remained frozen, leaving them exhausted. As soon as they stepped on a deserted pass, cavalry soldiers began shoving and insulting the crowd for no reason, trying to provoke a violent reaction. However, the Christians did not want to get mixed up in any quarrels. They suffered the insults and blows until the soldiers got tired.

After walking almost a day without pause, dusk fell, and they rested beyond a quietly flowing river. Men and women ran to wet their faces, washing away their weariness. Even those used to hard labor felt worn out. Ultimately, the location was deemed suitable for the night, as they had little choice given that evening was already upon them.

The women instructed the children to gather wood for the fire while they prepared the food. The men set up makeshift tents for the night. At the other end, the Turkish soldiers sat on the ground, watching them closely. The women and children felt the soldiers’ stares like sharp nails, and fearing they might lash out for no reason again, they whispered to avoid provoking them by speaking in their own language. Thus, in stressful silence, they carried out their tasks.

After the meal, utterly exhausted, they lay down, and most of them immediately fell into a deep sleep, except for Sergios and Anthi, who found it impossible to close their eyes. They tiptoed away from the group and walked along the river, believing they were far enough away to talk in private. As they sat down, heavy anxieties weighed on their minds and souls. They suspected that something dreadful awaited them in Sivas and that this transfer concealed another purpose. As they exchanged their deepest fears and suspicions, sudden howls shattered the night’s stillness, interrupting their quiet conversation. Shrill voices cried out in fear for help, and children’s weeping added even more intensity to the turmoil.

 

To be continued …

 

©2026, Vasiliki Papadopoulou