by Acrivi Artemis Koutavas Anninos Georgelos

I was born in Fragata, on the Island of Cephallonia, on the third day of March 1902. Our home was not far from the Monastery of Saint Gerasimos, the patron saint of Cephallonia. When I was five, I, my parents, and my three sisters went to Russia. It seems like a dream now. We set out on donkey back, to Argostolion the capital of the island. From there we boarded a ship bound for Piraeus. I remember a ship full of people, all seasick, and in due time we found ourselves in Russia. We settled in Odessa, a very beautiful seaport and commercial center on the Black Sea. My father had a well-established restaurant and shop there. He had been commuting between our home in Greece to Odessa for a number of years attending to business until he felt it was time to take us along with him.

The Russians at that time were innocent, religious, and happy. In the summer on weekends, they would all go to the country or to the beach with their families. They would spread the food out on the ground, and the young men would play their balalaikas and mandolins while the people around them would dance. I can still see them dancing and hear them singing. The people would go to church every Sunday and when they visited other homes, they would look to see where the icons were hung so they could cross themselves. At Easter, at the end of his service, the priest would go outside of the church where the people would be waiting in line with their Easter baskets filled with red eggs, Paska the traditional Easter Bread, and a bit of the dishes they had prepared for Easter so the Priest could bless them. Later that day with Easter candles lit, they would go home and the festivities would begin.

The next day they would go to the cemetery with their food, where they would eat, and dance as a sign of respect for the dead.

The Russian national drink was, of course, vodka which they would often have with breakfast.

My father’s restaurant was three large rooms. One was separated from the others with thick red velvet drapes. This room was exclusively for use by Russian aristocrats. The other two were for the common people. Both classes like to drink, a lot. If anyone misbehaved they would be reprimanded. If they misbehaved bad enough, it might be necessary to throw that person out of the restaurant. The next day if any person did receive either action, they would always come back and beg my father’s forgiveness for the trouble they caused.

We had a good life.

In 1911 war broke out in the Balkans. In 1912 my father was drafted to fight. Like any law-abiding Greek citizen, he would serve. He was getting ready to return to Greece when suddenly a new order came. The Greek Consulate told us that those men who had four children or more were exempted. My father had five children then, because Sophia, my sister was born in 1912. It was her birth that was responsible for my father not having to go to war. I do not know if that was a good thing or bad but I have to believe that it was good because he would have had to leave a whole large family in order to fight and would he have returned?

The war went on with one victory after another. My heart was filled with joy at the victory of the Greeks and the liberation of the Greek people from the Turkish and Bulgarian yoke. Then one day our teacher said to us,

“My children, I have bad news to tell you today. They have killed King George.” Her voice was trembling as she added “Our King will now be Constantine the XIIth. There will be a forty-day mourning period for our late and beloved king.” So we put a black ribbon on our hats, we wore white straw ones in summer and blue suede ones in winter. Instead of our white uniforms with a blue dress, we donned black uniforms. The day our king died we were let out of school early and when I got home with eyes red and swollen from weeping my mother asked me why. I burst into tears and said to her,

“Our King is dead. They killed him!”

Such strong feelings were part of being Greek. We had a strong national spirit. We loved Mother Greece!

The Russians admired the Greeks and this probably contributed to this strong sense of pride. They had borrowed from us our religion, and the Greeks in Russian had strong ideals. The Greeks had always worked hard and climbed the social and economic ladder with honor, intelligence, and dignity.

The Greek men were good family men and law-abiding citizens. Not only in Russia but everywhere the Greeks do their best to honor their homeland and their heritage.

As I said the Russians were happy, religious, and innocent. Because they were so innocent and naive as a people, the clever few with big ideas were able to incite the masses and bring about a Revolution. They were told that Revolution would make them all leaders, but of course, that became true for only a few of them. The others, the masses, remained subservient, they remained slaves whether they liked it or not. They told them that there would be only one class, but they were deceived just as adults sometimes deceive small children when they ask them for some kind of favor. When the people woke up and saw the abyss of deceit it was too late. The sword of Damocles was now hanging over their heads.

Yes, we had a good life until 1917. What a horrible time! When I think of the events of those days my blood freezes in my veins.

I remember it was March then too, but that March day in 1917, all that happened will remain in my memory like a nightmare.

I was not old enough then to understand the immensity of the calamity that had befallen Russia. I did not understand the catastrophe that we, as individuals, would be subjected to. I did not know the stigma that this would create for the rest of the civilized world to see.

On the 15th day of March, the newspapers with large bold headlines announced the forced abdication of Czar Nicholas II. This was more than a man could understand. It was particularly hard for my young mind to comprehend at all. This was a sacrilege, who could do such a thing to the Czar of All Russia? It cannot be true, but it was. Soon news bulletins were on the newspaper front pages. They informed the world that the Czar and his family were being held as prisoners. We could not believe this either, but it too was true. As the days went by things only got worse. The country’s situation was getting more and more frightening. Out in the streets, soldiers, youngsters, men, women, were singing to the tune of Marseillaise these words:

“Working People, awake and rise, rise and fight for the worker…..”

I remember that in the house across the street from us lived a Russian family, a couple and their son. He was an officer in the Russian Army and when he would hear the crowds outside singing or shouting “Down with the Czar!” he would hide. He would look outside very cautiously from behind the drapes. He did not take a step outside of the house for months. All the stores were closed and boarded up because the Revolutionaries would break windows, steal, and kill those inside. There was chaos and total anarchy.

Worse things followed, famine and insurrection spread thru and reigned over all the people of Russia. Workers rebelled against their employers. The killed, they were intoxicated with blood. We would see heaps of bodies, those killed by the Bolsheviks as they were hauled to the cemetery. Boorish men, evil men, would invade private homes where they would pillage and kill. They would cut off the ears of women to take their earrings, and cut off fingers to steal their rings.

Terror and fear spread everywhere. At dusk, everyone would go inside their houses and lock all the doors and windows. Men would not dare wear a collar and necktie for fear they might be thought of being bourgeois, looking like they were rich and the women dressed as plainly as possible to avoid being killed by the Bolsheviks. Because we were Greek Nationals and Greece was an ally of Russia, the Bolsheviks respected us and we were safe from them. But we still hoped and prayed for a miracle, a miracle that would bring back the Czar, our emperor, and his government. We did not want to believe that the mighty Russian empire was lost forever.

We held on to this hope as a year went by. In July of 1918, it was rumored that the Czar and all his family had been killed. Now the leader of all Russians was Alexander Kerensky. Our life began to be without joy and dangerous. We wanted to leave, to go back home, to Greece, but we could not sell our property, nor our shop and restaurant. No one wanted to buy. My father went to the bank to withdraw all his money and instead of Czar Nicholas Rubles, he was given Kerensky rubles. This was bad but worse, much worse was still to come. We just didn’t realize that yet.

The country’s situation was constantly deteriorating. The Allies sent forces to suppress the rebellion, but what could a few thousand soldiers do against huge swarms of Russian rebels. It was the poor Greeks who paid the most fighting the rebels. We were told that when Greek soldiers were sent to fight the communists in the streets, Russian women would pour boiling water on them from the windows above, while the French and English soldiers just watched. The Greeks while helping the Allies had become enemies of the Russians.

It was no longer safe for us, but we could not get out of the country. Because of the war, the straits of Dardanelles were closed, so have no way to sail home we were forced to stay on. Every day that passed made our situation worse.

Our schools, however, stayed open. We had two very good schools. Both were Greek-Russian. One for the girls, The Rodokanakion, and one for the boys. All classes were in Greek with some hours devoted to the Russian language. There were marble plaques with the names of donors to the school, names such as Mavrocordatos, Rodokanakis, Ypsilantis, and others engraved in gold. We respected and loved our teachers. When a teacher entered our classroom, we all stood in greeting and as a sign of respect. We did the same when a teacher left the classroom. We had been taught by our parents and our teachers to love our country, our Greece and we were proud to be Greek. I remember that during Greek History class my eyes would always fill up with tears for the Greeks who had suffered under the hand of foreign domination.

In 1919 all allied troops were ordered to leave Odessa. The Greek Consulate ordered us to leave also. We were told to evacuate within twenty-four hours. We sailed together with our troops on the same ship. We took only small personal effects. When we arrived in Greece with next to nothing and needing to start our lives over, we found out that all our money was also worth next to nothing.

Acrivi Artemis Koutavas Georgelos

End of Part 1

The Four Green Walls Part 2