Out of the Darkness

By Dawson Albert

The exploration and settling of the Western frontier, the inflammatory but inspiring events of the Civil War, and the tragedy, drama, and victorious effort exemplified in World War II are the three focal points of this anthology. Several stories are loosely based on actual happenings: Home So Far Away, Amerikaner, and Lost.

Each story in varying ways focuses on and portrays the resiliency of the human spirit when individuals are confronted with life-threatening situations. It is our hope as readers that we can discover within ourselves traits that would inspire us to act heroically if thrust into similar circumstances. This focus is found in all stories but predominantly in the cornerstone title Out of the Darkness, a two-part WWII narrative whose main character, Niko, sets an example for us all.

The reader should know that every main protagonist in each story is based on real human beings that the author has interviewed and come to know as friends and subsequently deduced that these persons could in all likelihood do what their fictional characters achieved.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504918282

Dawson Albert

Al Dawson was born and raised in the historic Northern Neck of Virginia, thus began his strong interest in the events that formed the backbone of this country. Al completed high school as valedictorian of his class, received his bachelor’s degree and Phi Beta Kappa honors from the University of Richmond, and his master’s degree and PhD in Spanish from the University of Wisconsin. He returned to his alma mater in Richmond where he taught for thirty-four years. His wife and two children, now adults with families of their own, follow many of his main interests, primarily the vocation of teaching Spanish and Hispanic culture and also a consuming interest in global history. After retirement, Al and his wife, Laila, moved to the Rocky Mountains of Colorado where his long-ingrained love for the rich history, legends, and lore of Western frontier existence—mining and ghost towns, cowboys, and native Americans—comes to life for him in his stories. However, he never forgets his Virginia roots—his grandma telling him stories about the Civil War and, as a six-year old, seeing his relatives in the variety of military uniforms returning home at the end of World War II.

Book preview

2015 Albert Dawson. All rights reserved.

Cover Design by Paul J. Caputo, MFA

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/08/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-1829-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-1828-2 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

World War II

Niko – In The Beginning (Part I)

Niko – Resurrection (Part II)

Amerikaner

Civil War

Home, So Far Away

A True Soldier

The West

Charlie

Man In Black

The Storm

Lost

Deception Point

Shadow Man

DEDICATION

What a great joy it is to

Dedicate this fourth anthology

Of stories to my fabulous grand children,

Joel, Maya, and Emmy.

They bring so much delight

To their Daddad.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Meeting extraordinary people in real life and having them become central characters in my stories is one of the greatest joys I find in writing. Thus, I wish to acknowledge specific individuals who have touched my soul and brought so much inspiration to me in unique ways. They are models for us all.

~~~~~

Nick Apostolides, an incredibly talented actor in New England and now Hollywood, is the inspiration for the cornerstone story NIKO of this anthology. Nick embodies in his own persona and life those admirable traits to which so many of us aspire—courage, resilience, indomitable spirit, and honesty. He is a genuine, engaging, and compassionate human being who shared so much of himself during a busy time of his film career. Nick, a thousand and one thanks.

Grant Stockmyer, a true Dutchman and the inspiration for AMERIKANER, has captivated me with his friendly, open-hearted nature. His positive personality makes him a friend to all, especially to me. I owe him much.

Coleton Wilson and Kelsey, two beautiful and kind individuals, provided the catalyst for STORM. Coleton is a down-to-earth Wyoming cowboy, his family owning a ranch in that beautiful state. Thank you Coleton and Kelsey for letting me be a part of your life if only for a too brief time.

Chris Bosserman, aka Vosserman, and Erica Wilson permitted me to enter their lives with such honesty, good humor, and charm. The first time I saw and met Chris my mental image of his wearing a Civil War Union cap simply overwhelmed me. He just had to be the protagonist in A TRUE SOLDIER.

Erica, friend of Chris and bright spirit that she is, has all the endearing qualities, and more, that we find in her character in their story. What a blessing it is to know you.

The talented and attractive Eric Smith and Genevieve Gaskill are such musically talented and bright young people that there seemed little choice but to make them the appealing young couple in DECEPTION POINT. I am grateful for their talent and who they are.

Terry Sanders is a bona fide man of nature, a climber of lofty peaks and cliffs, including high frozen waterfalls. His intrepid psyche makes me envious of his adventuresome character and his daring. His story LOST is based loosely on a true experience. Thank you, Terry, for sharing.

….and thank you all for being a friend…

WORLD WAR II

OUT OF THE DARKNESS

Out…

Out…

Out of the darkness

Out of the gloom

Escaping sense of desolation

Escaping foreboding of doom

Emerging…

Emerging…

Into…

First hint of light

Budding touch of day

Bright awareness of hope

Finding a new way

Finding…

New meaning to life

Finding…

Greater purpose to stay.

NAcharacter5.jpg

NIKO – IN THE BEGINNING

Part I

ATHENA, WATER BUCKET IN HAND, slowly shuffled down the age-old path. The stones were worn smooth and shiny from the thousands of feet that had tread along it over so many hundreds of years. She thought about all those ghosts of the past who, like her now, had walked this trail that wound its way down to the village’s main source of water, a small mountain stream, semi-hidden deep in the recesses of the canyon. She paused, crossed herself, murmured a short prayer and hoped that those who had preceded her had found more peace than she was finding these days.

She recalled with a deep sense of anger and resentment the Italian and Albanian troops that had stormed into the mountains of northern Greece where she lived. Several divisions of the Greek army had bravely met and stopped them cold in fierce encounters, eventually driving the enemy forces back across the border. A large number of captured Italian soldiers had passed through her small village. She and her friends had watched them stumble along, heads hanging low, sad, defeated, tired, some with tears in their eyes. She and several village women, out of a deep sense of compassion, even though they were the enemy, had given them water and whatever scraps of food they could come up with. The men with whom she had talked had confessed that they actually were glad to be prisoners, that they had not wanted to fight and had only been forced to do so by Mussolini’s Fascist henchmen.

At that time, Athena had hoped that the Italian retreat would be the end of it, that they would continue to withdraw through Albania, licking their wounds the entire way back to Italy. She, however, had doubted this would be true, suspecting, per her husband’s thinking, that the Germans would alertly divert forces to finish the job their Italian and Albanian allies could not.

Pondering this, she paused on the trail to cough up phlegm that she spat on a large boulder to her right, showing her contempt and growing disgust for the hated enemy. Why? she asked herself. Why can’t people just leave each other alone?

Life was hard enough in these remote northern areas without having thousands of enemy soldiers using it as their battleground, cannons blasting gaping holes in the mountain sides, entire villages being destroyed, their inhabitants frantically fleeing to safer areas with what few possessions could be loaded on their backs.

Athena sighed, then hoisted the bucket higher and laboriously renewed her walk down the ancient path, thinking longingly of her husband Stavros and her three sons. She wondered where they were and if they were still safe and sound. Something deep down inside reassured her, however, that they must be all right, as word would surely have reached her if anything had happened to them.

She took a deep breath, trying to bring some greater sense of peace and rest to her soul and her aching body. With her men away fighting with other Greek partisan groups, life was grindingly difficult—the constant struggle to have enough food, hauling water up to her cottage, the incessant gathering of wood for cooking and for warmth during the cool nights, repairs to the cottage, washing clothes, and, not to be forgotten, the worry and fretting that plagued the long, dark, lonely nights. How she missed the sound of their voices, especially the constant teasing and boisterous banter between the three brothers.

Athena!

Her name suddenly being called out startled her but, then, she quickly recognized the raspy voice of one of her neighbors. She looked around, at first not seeing anyone. Then, there she was, Vanya, barely visible in a thick patch of weeds and bushes picking capers and other herbs.

Athena groaned silently to herself. She liked Vanya all right but the old woman was a feisty, sometimes irritating neighbor who really grated Athena’s nerves with her unending prattle and gossipy nature. But she had to begrudgingly admit that, without the older woman’s presence in the village, life would be even harder. Vanya was their medicine woman, the village doctor so to speak, bringing into play her vast knowledge of medicinal plants and other treatments to cure so many ailments typical of mountain living and the aches of old age. In fact, Vanya had saved many a life with her unusual poultices, ointments, teas, and home remedies; thus, Athena held a begrudging respect for her. But right now she just wanted to be alone in her thoughts.

Athena turned to stare at the woman as she worked her way through the thick weeds and brush, a toothless half-smile crossing her face as she got closer.

Wonder what in the world she wants? Athena muttered under her breath.

Hello, Vanya, she greeted in a somewhat forced manner, hoping the woman wouldn’t pick up on her impatience.

Hello, Athena, she responded. I was wondering if you’d heard any news about what’s happening up north. Thought maybe one of your boys had gotten back to let you know what’s going on. Rumors I hear say the Germans are bringing in reinforcements, even getting those wretched Bulgarians to help ’em out.

Athena made no response, waiting an extra moment to gather her thoughts. She didn’t want to lie to the woman, as doing so was deeply against her nature, but she certainly was not going to tell her that her husband had actually come home for several hours night before last. He had paid a short visit to see how she was coping with him and the boys being gone. He had confessed that the Germans had indeed shown up on the field of battle, in force. Stavros was convinced that the small Greek army would not be able to hold them off for long, and that everyone in the village should be prepared to evacuate at a moment’s notice.

In an effort to bolster Stavros’ spirits, Athena had tried not to show the fear that she felt inside, but a dark cloud had wrapped around her heart.

Vanya’s voice once again pulled her back to where she was.

The woman was a real chatterbox, which means, if she learned important information about the whereabouts of any of the village’s fighting men, that news would soon be spreading like a flash fire throughout the small village and beyond.

Affairs at the time were too dangerous for anyone, including Athena and other families, to know where the separate, small, mobile Greek partisan units had their hideouts. There were even a few Greeks themselves who, politically aligned against their own government and leaning toward socialist and communist doctrine, would be more than willing to sell or volunteer information to the enemy.

Besides, Stavros had strongly cautioned her against letting anyone know of his or the boys’ visits, especially as he was the leader of more than twenty local partisans who, in quick raids and ambushes, had wreaked havoc on the Italian forces. When her husband or one of her sons would manage on the sly to return to the village to check on her, she mentioned it to no one, even though it frustrated her not to be able to shout the news of their presence to the skies.

Images of her three sons flashed before her eyes. She thought longingly of Spiros, her eldest, he of the fiery temperament, then her middle son, Nicolas, whom she and her husband referred to as Niko. Everyone loved him for his affectionate but quiet, somewhat introverted nature. Little did they know, she smiled to herself, how passionate and fierce he could be when wronged or challenged in his beliefs. Then, there was her youngest, Elias, who possessed a youthful, boyish charm and innocence that captivated everyone he met, especially the young girls.

She hated to admit favorites among her sons, as she loved them all without restraint, but to herself she had to confess that Niko held a special, almost sacred place in her heart. Of the three, he was the most reliable, possessing rock solid morals and an incomparable, strong work ethic. Both Spiros and Elias, as wonderful as they were, required a bit of vigilance. Spiros too often allowed his quick-temper to get him into brawls and to make questionable decisions. Elias, on the other hand, because of his soft, gentle nature and good-looking, boyish face was the constant focus of attention of any young girl that crossed his path. Athena strongly suspected per his sneaking into the house late at night that he had all too often fallen prey to his youthful hormones. When questioned by his father about his sorties, Elias would not deny his trysts but would rather coyly smile and walk away, a pronounced masculine strut to his stride.

On the other hand, Niko, the handsomest of the three, had confessed when he and she were alone one day that he believed intimacy with a woman was very special, never to be taken lightly, and that physical sex was a sacred bond, only to be considered when he found a woman with whom he felt a strong connection and for whom he held complete respect. To further contrast their temperaments, while Spiros was involved in his numerous brawls and fisticuffs and Elias was enamored of some young, innocent, Niko would commonly be seen taking hikes and walks alone, enjoying the beauty and quiet of nature and the time for reflection.

Quite often, Athena recalled, she or Stavros would find their middle son down by the stream drawing, writing, or merely sitting on a rock lost in his thoughts. At other times he would be seen thoroughly engrossed in a deep philosophical discussion with one of the elders of the village. During village celebrations, however, Niko would spontaneously convert into the entertainer, engaging in humorous chats with townsfolk of any age. His playful, charismatic nature would come to the fore, especially when around children whom he regaled with jokes and stories of his own invention that commonly had them clutching their sides in hysterical laughter.

In general, however, because of his humble and modest nature, she and Stavros, knowing how difficult life in general could be, and even more so in the mountains, often questioned if Niko would stand up for himself if caught in a truly challenging situation out of which he could not diplomatically talk himself.

Their fears, however, were put to rest one day when a bully from the village stepped over the line by verbally and physically abusing him. The older, larger boy apparently had made derogatory remarks about Niko’s love for drawing and writing. He had calmly let the boy have his way before finally reaching his saturation point.

The townspeople had been shocked when the young tormentor had returned home with a bloodied nose and split lip. Upon insistent inquiry, the boy finally confessed to his parents that Niko had completely run him over in a savage fistfight. By all appearances, neither the boy nor his parents, especially his dad, had forgiven Niko. Thereafter, the two families had avoided each other like the plague.

Athena thought again of the afternoon after the fight when Niko returned home, barely a scratch on him. When he walked in, he realized immediately per their looks that she and Stavros knew what he had done, and hung his head in humility and shame. But instead of harsh words of reprimand from his father, Stavros had merely given Niko a nod of acknowledgement and a reassuring slap on the shoulder. Athena herself flashed him a maternal smile of pride and satisfaction.

From that day on no one dared to insult or take Niko on in a physical fight. Even his older brother Spiros saw fit to leave him alone. A side effect was that the young girls of the village, seeking his attention, went out of their way to spend time with their new hero of the moment.

Athena smiled inwardly, relishing the differences between her boys, and the fact that, as young men, all three, without hesitation, had stepped up to the challenge of joining other Greek partisans in ridding the homeland of its invading enemies.

This thought, however, brought her back to the reality of where she was, the plight in which her family and the village found itself, of the constant danger and threat of the violent times. Thus far, the partisans had fared well against the Italians and Albanians, suffering very few casualties. She knew though that the Germans would be another story, and that very thought sent pangs of fear rampaging throughout her body and soul.

She recalled Niko’s parting words as he headed off to war with his dad and brothers. He had quietly pulled her aside to tell her in words she so clearly remembered, Mom, please don’t worry. If something happens to me I want you to know that I would be honored and feel fulfilled if I died protecting or saving you, Dad, Spiros or Elias.

Every night since, before going to bed, Athena had struggled with those words, appreciating Niko’s honest and noble expression of his love for her and the entire family but fearing they could be some kind of omen. She wondered how in God’s name she or Stavros would be able to cope and go on living if something happened to any one of their beloved sons.

Vanya’s scratchy, brittle voice stirred her out of these negative thoughts, for which she was grateful. But the question posed by the older woman rattled her more than she wanted to admit.

Athena, are you listening to me? I asked you a question and you’re just staring into space. So, have you seen Stavros or the boys recently? Sometimes at night, when it’s quiet, I feel like I can hear those big guns going off and it frightens me. What if the Germans break through and come here?

Stammering somewhat as she tried to collect her thoughts, Athena managed to respond, inside secretly crossing her heart for the lie she was about to tell. No, Vanya, I haven’t seen Stavros or the boys for some time now. I’m thinking they’re up close to the border somewhere trying to hold the Germans back. And if they don’t, I’m not sure what we’ll do. I guess it depends on how much time it takes before the Germans get here. I’m planning on packing up a few essentials, food and clothing especially, and being ready to escape into the mountains or further south somewhere. You might want to consider doing the same, Athena offered, thinking back on Stavros’ words.

Vanya let out a huff of frustration, then retorted, Well, I don’t know about that. I don’t see why they’d bother or hurt an old woman like me. I’m sure those lousy Germans have got far better things to do.

Athena thought a moment and replied, Well, I hope you’re right, but someone said that the Germans are furious with the havoc our own men, not the regular army boys in uniform mind you, are having with their hit and run tactics. Seems they don’t take highly to partisans killing their soldiers, sort of consider it unmanly or unprofessional. I heard that they, in a fit of rage, massacred a bunch of people in a town not far from the Albanian border.

Vanya pondered for a few moments what Athena had said, then, crinkling up her nose, added, So, if you know that much, I’m guessing you’ve gotten news from Stavros. No one’s told me anything of that nature or seriousness.

Caught off guard and realizing she might have let slip too much information, Athena hurried to cover herself, "No, Vanya, I just guess we talk to different people. I must confess I’m worried sick; so, I listen to every piece of information I can get. You know Stavros and the boys are fighting somewhere up north of here and, if the Germans were to capture them, I fear what they would do, especially to Stavros since he’s one of the main leaders.

Vanya stared at Athena, clearly reading between the lines of what the latter had said and interpreting what had been left unsaid.

Athena watched her face, wondering if she had divulged too much per Stavros’ comments or if the old medicine woman was going to let it go.

In an attempt to cut short any possible follow-up questions, Athena volunteered, Well, Vanya, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get down to the stream for water, then back to the cottage to start fixing dinner. She then added, Why don’t you drop by some time for some nettle tea and we can talk more."

She observed a softer cast to the old woman’s eyes and knew her strategy was working.

Vanya responded with a toothless grin, I think I’ll do that. But, in the meantime, if you do hear anything more, let me know. Maybe we could warn our neighbors and friends so they can make plans too. If the Germans come, I think I’ll stay and take my chances on their being half civil.

Athena smiled her acknowledgement, picked up her bucket once again and swiftly turned away to continue her journey. She could feel Vanya’s eyes burning into her back as she hustled along the path.

After filling the bucket, she began the strenuous climb back to her small cottage. She stopped in front to catch her breath and look around in case any of her neighbors might be about. Seeing no one, she started to reach for the latch but, to her surprise, found it up and the door ajar about an inch.

Now, what in the world…? she queried. I must be getting more senile than I want to admit. I thought for sure I closed and latched the door. Well, no matter, she commented aloud as she shoved the door open. She splashed a small amount of water on her skirt as she stepped over the raised stone threshold.

A male voice, so low it was barely audible, startled her from the dark interior.

Hi, Mom. It’s me, Niko. Let me take the bucket and you close the door. Don’t want anybody to know I’m here.

Athena gasped in relief as she felt Niko’s strong, calloused hand wrap around hers and take the heavy bucket from her. She shut the door and secured the latch from inside. She noted that he had closed the shutters to the two small windows, then, heard the scratch of a match against stone as he lit a small kerosene lantern.

When the light flickered and caught, she saw Niko’s slender form bent over the lamp.

He turned to face her, a warm, gracious smile lighting up his handsome face. Hi, Mom, he said, before stepping toward her to wrap his arms tightly about her waist. She felt the strength in those arms, and it brought a deep sense of security. He held her long, seemingly unwilling to let go. She could smell the smoke of numerous campfires in his clothing and knew he had just come from where Stavros, Elias, Spiros, and the other men were holed up.

Niko finally released her and stepped back to stare at her, a serious look shading his face. She started to ask, but he quickly intervened, It’s okay, Mom. We’re all fine. Dad sent me because he thought you should know that the Germans have broken through several places in our army’s main lines. They outgun and outnumber our men, and casualties are high. Word has gotten around that our generals are proposing a surrender before too many more lives are lost.

Niko continued before Athena could formulate a question. Shhhh, he whispered. Let me finish, Mom. I don’t have much time and have to get out of the village as soon as I can. I took a risk coming in this early but I don’t believe anyone saw me.

Athena saw a shadow of doubt briefly flicker across his eyes. A small pang of fear rippled through her. She knew her Niko and was positive he was holding something back.

He grasped her lightly by the shoulders to steady and calm her shaking body.

Mom, Dad’s pretty sure, and you know he’s very good at interpreting what could or might happen, that the Germans will force the complete collapse of our defensive lines. When that happens, our army units will surrender immediately. They’re all ready to do so as we speak. That means that our resistance forces are the only ones left to take them on. We can’t stop them, but we can hurt them enough to make them think twice about how far and fast they advance south.

Niko paused, an unsettled look clouding his angular face, to see how his mother was accepting what he was saying. He observed her apprehension but also noted the usual strength. In deep regard and sympathy for her he squeezed her shoulders again and continued, "When they break through, they’ll move fast, extremely fast, sending out specialized patrol groups along every road that’s wide enough to let their trucks through. We intend to intercept and ambush as many as we can, but that won’t hold them back for long. Pretty reliable sources tell us they’ve already taken over a couple of villages close to the battle lines. In one of them they found out that a number of partisan fighters came from there.

He paused to take a deep breath and grip her shoulders even more tightly, almost hurting her without intending to. Mom, this is hard for me to say but…

Just say it, Niko. Please, just say it! she urged.

Mom, he continued, "they gathered anybody and everybody that hadn’t fled the village already, lined them up in front of those damned maschinengewehr and shot them all. Anybody that was still breathing when they got through was… he paused, …dispatched by an officer with a pistol shot to the head. Mom, they left nobody alive—old people, women,…even children.

Athena gasped in shock, not believing anyone, even Germans could do such a thing.

Mom, I needed to tell you this because Dad, Elias, and Spiros wanted you to know how serious this has become. If the Germans come here, and we’re sure they will, everyone has to get out of the village as fast as possible, carrying only what can be put on their backs. Everybody has to head south, stopping only when absolutely necessary, and then only briefly.

When…? Athena managed to stutter.

Dad figures two days at most. We can’t afford to take them on in a direct, pitched battle because they outgun us. Those new machine guns of theirs spit out bullets by the thousands and we only have rifles. But we will hurt them enough to make them think twice, and go more cautiously. Problem is, Mom, this will make them even madder and more vengeful. Hard to tell what they might do…but whatever it is, it’ll be ugly. Dad, Spiros, Elias, and I talked about this…a lot. We knew we had to take a gamble and get this information to you. Unfortunately, that leaves it up to you to spread the word to the rest of the people.

Niko, I can do this, but why did you come, not your dad or Spiros?

I volunteered, Mom. I told them I knew the trails and paths as well as they did, even better I think, and that I’m a lot faster. I ran most of the way. Besides Dad had to stay with the men to make plans on what to do next.

Athena nodded her understanding and knew Niko was right, recalling how much he loved to jog up and down the mountain roads and trails. In earlier years, when asked why he ran so much, he had simply explained that he enjoyed it but also wanted to stay in good shape and not develop a pot-gut as so many older Greek men tended to do."

Niko, Athena addressed him, you mentioned something at the beginning that disturbs me. I know you too well, my son, what you say and don’t say in words. But you mentioned that you ‘think’ no one saw you enter the village. Is there something you’re avoiding telling me?

A gloomy look shaded his countenance.

It’s nothing, I’m sure, Mom.

Athena locked her eyes on his, looking deep inside him, and that look clearly told her son that she was not accepting his statement.

Okay, Mom. It’s a possibility that someone did see me on the trail just outside the village, but I saw him first and don’t think he spotted me before I got off the path. I can’t be sure though.

Niko, tell me who it was, Athena adamantly insisted.

I’m not really sure, Mom.

Niko, tell me now!

Mom, I think it was Vito. You remember him, the boy I gave a bloody nose to some years back when he…

I know, Niko. I remember Vito all too well. That boy, along with his father, is a good for nothing. They’ve been like thorns to everybody in the village at one time or another. No one likes or trusts either one of them. Are you sure he didn’t see you?

I don’t think he did, but, no, Mom, to be honest I can’t be absolutely sure. What struck me as strange was that he was heading north.

Niko was quiet a moment, then added, Either way, it’s done and neither I, nor you, can change that. We’ll just have to hope for the best. Now, Mom, I have to get back to camp to help Dad and the other men. Are you all right with spreading the word around to the others?

Athena nodded her head yes, a tear trickling down one cheek.

Niko’s heart melted, but he knew he shouldn’t belabor his mom’s worries, so he affirmed as positively as he could, Good. Get others to help you, maybe Vanya, since she likes to talk a lot. Then, get back here to pack up what you can carry…only food enough for several days and warm clothing. You might have to sleep in them as blankets and such are too big and heavy.

Niko, in an effort to bolster his mother’s sagging morale, continued by adding, Mom, I have to confess that I grabbed a hunk of that loaf you left in the bread box. Maybe I’d better put it back. I tried not to take too much but I haven’t eaten all day.

Oh, Niko, she started to protest as she put her hands on both his cheeks in a demonstration of maternal love. You take whatever you want. You need it much more than I do. I can find other things.

Okay, Mom. I’ll take a little piece. You know me; I can get by on a small amount of food. Besides, I don’t want to be running on a full stomach anyway. Now, give me a big hug, and I’d better get going.

Athena wrapped her arms around Niko’s waist, giving him an embrace that left no doubt as to her sincere affection.

Thanks, Mom. I needed that.

He gently pulled apart from her, stuffed the bread into his coat pocket, picked up his rifle from beside the door, and opened it a crack to cautiously peer outside. After scanning the area a few moments, he turned to grin at her, threw her a kiss, and was gone.

When she went to the door to close it completely, he was nowhere to be seen, having disappeared around the back of the cottage and into the surrounding forest.

God bless you, my son, she said half aloud as she closed the door to start choosing items essential for the long trek south.

Athena shuffled about the cottage as she tried to get her mind into preparing even the most meager meal. Her thoughts were lost in a world of conjecture and doubt, wondering if she would ever see her beloved husband and sons again. She could not escape the image of Niko out there alone in the woods, cautiously working his way back north to his father’s camp and to his brothers. Then, her mind shifted back to her one singular charge, to let her neighbors know about making the necessary preparations for a quick departure early the next day.

Fearing the worst and knowing that Niko would not have risked the long and dangerous trip to warn her unless the threat were truly great, she decided to do all within her power to convince her friends of the pending German arrival. She accepted the fact, however, that there would be some who would decide to stay, refusing to abandon their homes in a desperate hope that the Germans, if they came, would treat them fairly.

While eating, the food falling tasteless on her tongue, Athena spent much time looking distractedly around her modest, simple home. Fond memories of her married life with Stavros and the youthful antics of three active sons whipped through her mind. She wondered if she would ever be able to return and what she would find if she did. She had no doubt that the Germans would not hesitate to burn the entire village if they learned that it harbored active partisan fighters. All one had to do was look around to see that almost no young men remained. Only several, including the malevolent Vito, had insisted on remaining, claiming that they either were needed at home or that for an old injury or other vague reason they could not fight.

Perhaps, she thought, the Germans might accept that the young men had enlisted in the regular Greek army and were not counted among the growing number of partisan guerrillas, whom they hated so much. She had her doubts, however. She just prayed and hoped that no one would surrender information that could mean the death of so many.

After her meal, with the darkness of night swiftly falling over the village, Athena passed from door to door. She was impressed with how many accepted without questioning her brief explanation of why they should gather up their belongings and meet in the small, open square in the morning. She was very insistent that they had to depart on the morrow as her gut feeling told her that waiting a second day could possibly be too late.

Athena already knew that Vanya could not make a long trek on foot through the steep mountain trails. But, of all the others, only one family, mainly that of Vito’s dad, adamantly refused to participate, declaring that the Germans would not bother them, even might support and help. Athena looked at him quizzically, wondering if he knew something that she did not. She noticed that Vito was nowhere to be seen, but decided to disregard his strange absence.

She spent a few more minutes, however, trying to convince the man that it was to the benefit of his wife and son to leave. While doing so, however, out of the corner of her eye she saw Vito sneak through the gate located at the side of the dilapidated cottage.

He spied her at the same time and quickly shifted direction to cut around behind the house and out of sight, obviously intent on avoiding any contact. Even with that slight glimpse, Athena wondered if she hadn’t seen a strange look in his eyes, one that she did not like. Although he was now grown up, like Niko, Athena had often questioned whether or not Vito, and his father, still harbored huge resentment over Niko’s humiliation of the boy years ago.

She promptly dismissed the concern as a product of her own exaggerated worries and fears, and proceeded to finish her task. Fortunately, as it was almost dark, a number of older men volunteered to help spread the word to others while their wives gathered their belongings.

When she finished her rounds, Athena was close to exhaustion. She turned about and hurriedly headed for home. She knew a good night’s sleep was necessary for the strength required on the trip the next day.

But sleep was hard to come by. She tossed and turned, fretting over images of Niko struggling in the dark to stay on the right mountain paths.

When she did finally drop off for several hours of restless sleep, she awoke at first light with a start, bolting upright in bed, a cold sweat covering her body. She had a dream, no, a horrible nightmare, one in which Niko’s bloodied body was lying alongside a trail, another dark figure slinking off into the shadows of the forest. She shuddered at the memory of the scene, so vivid, and tried to shake it off. She pulled a small cross from the wooden table by the bed and pressed it to her bosom. She said a prayer, fervently petitioning God, if He was listening, to safeguard her beloved son.

In an effort to distract herself, she got up, lit the lantern, and proceeded to get dressed. She then threw in her sack a couple of additional small items she had thought of during the wakeful hours.

Feeling nostalgic, she spent a few minutes passing around the small cottage, rearranging and putting things away, cleaning up here and there. Finishing that, she then knelt beside the bed, once again clutching the old cross to her breast, and said a quiet prayer for Stavros and her three sons, and for her and her friends’ own safe journey south.

Checking out the window she saw the first rays of sun peaking over the mountains to the east, then, movement outside in the plaza and under the old oak tree that served as the gathering place. She assumed that a number of people were already meeting there, probably like her, unable to sleep, ready for an early departure.

She grabbed her sack of belongings, looked around once more, heaved a long sigh weighted with so many memories, then opened the door to step out into the brightness of the new day.

When she joined the large group, she was told that a number of persons were still absent and that everyone had agreed to wait until they arrived. Although anxious to leave, Athena assented. They sat down under the big old tree, the broad, thick branches spreading out horizontally to provide respite from the sharp glare of the early morning sun.

Soon, the shamble of feet from various directions told them that the rest of their group was close by.

Athena heaved a sigh of relief and turned to greet each and every one. She was staggered for a moment as Vito and his family had also shown up. The father, however, stepped forward, held up his hands for silence. Athena moved closer to hear what he had to say. The man, in an angry tone of voice, told them in no uncertain terms that they all were fools for following Athena’s advice and that the Germans would not harm them if they agreed to cooperate.

A low rumble of discontent rippled through the gathering, followed first by mutterings under the breath and then words of anger. One man spoke out, asking Vito’s father how he knew the Germans wouldn’t kill them all.

The father, strangely, glanced toward his son, then retorted. We just know, he shouted back vehemently. If we cooperate, everything will be all right.

Several older men in the crowd cursed at him, even waving fists in disgust. Don’t know why we should believe you and not Athena, one of the men said. She’s the one that’s got her husband and three sons fighting up north.

A large number of Athena’s neighbors nodded their heads in agreement. Several picked up their belongings and turned to leave, Athena following them.

The father yelled, You’ll be sorry for this!

Athena and the group, however, continued on and had just reached the road at the edge of the village when several people in the lead stopped, cocking their heads as if listening. They frantically waved to everyone to quiet down.

Then, one of the women in the front let out a screech and dropped her bag as she bolted back toward the center of the village, eyes bulging with fear.

Athena and the rest, in shock, stared up the main road that entered town from the north, wondering what the woman had heard or seen. At that moment Athena heard it too, the low rumbling of motors and heavy tires on the stone road,…and close.

She covered her mouth, speechless with fear, as she knew that sound could only be one thing, a large German convoy truck. No one in the village or vicinity had a vehicle of any sort.

Suddenly, around the bend she saw her fears realized, the low slung form of a German military car, and in it four uniformed soldiers, one of whom was standing and pointing in their direction.

Immediately behind the smaller vehicle a huge truck, the body covered in canvas, lumbered into view.

Athena felt herself being pushed and shoved by her friends as they crowded together to retreat towards the cobblestone square at the center of town. They paused to huddle under the big old tree and waited to see what would happen.

The smaller vehicle stopped just short of where they stood. Husbands clutched the shoulders of their wives; mothers pulled children close to their bodies.

The officer, a tall, stern looking man with medals and other military decorations plastered across his uniformed chest haughtily stepped out of the vehicle after his driver had scurried around to open the door for him.

He said nothing, just staring at the crowd of about forty people gathered in front. Meanwhile, the truck pulled to a halt in a cloud of dust, its brakes screeching loudly. Athena watched in horror as the tail gate dropped down with a clang of metal against metal. Out of the back there suddenly appeared black boots and grey uniforms as German soldiers jumped out to take their position in a straight line facing the crowd, twelve in all. Their rifles were pointed menacingly at the helpless people under the tree.

The officer growled out an order, one word of which put a shot of fear through Athena’s heart, a word Niko had mentioned…maschinengewehr.

Out of the back of the truck, three additional men appeared, two carrying a frightening weapon, the third a heavy metal box of ammunition. The three men efficiently positioned the gun on its tri-pod and fed the end of a long cartridge belt into the chamber. Two of the soldiers flopped to their bellies, one directly behind the weapon with his finger on the trigger, the second to the left as he unwound the cartridge belt from the box. The barrel of the menacing weapon was pointed directly at the villagers who were crowded together shoulder to shoulder.

Athena, saying a quiet prayer to herself, held her breath and awaited the loud burst of fire from the evil looking gun. To her surprise, however, the officer held up his hand as if halting traffic and shouted another order. Two soldiers pulled out of the line of German infantry and hustled to the lowered tailgate.

Everyone stared intently, wondering what they were up to.

The two soldiers reached in to grab something that, because it was obviously heavy, they started to drag out. Athena first saw two feet, then with a strong tug the Germans hauled into the sunlight a human form that rolled limply off the tailgate to fall with a sickening thud onto the cobble stones.

She stood on her tiptoes to peer over the shoulder of the woman standing in front of her. One soldier with his booted foot prodded the body to roll it over onto its back.

Athena’s heart skipped a beat and stopped. Horror stricken, she stared at the sight of Niko’s bloodied body lying in front of her.

No one uttered a word, every villager in shock. Athena covered her mouth not to cry or scream out loud.

The German officer meanwhile slowly strutted in front of the huddled villagers, staring into individual faces, studying their expressions to see who might show recognition of the man lying on the ground.

Not being able to pick out a face that was more in shock than another, he turned to give another order to his men, who sharply came to parade rest. He then turned to face the villagers, and to their surprise, in excellent Greek told them, Perhaps you cannot see well enough. I’ll have my men give you a better view.

He motioned to two men who stooped to lift Niko by his armpits, holding his sagging body erect, the action eliciting a deep groan.

He’s alive!, Athena gasped under her breath. He’s still alive.

The officer walked over to grab Niko by the hair, lifting his head so that all could see his face.

Athena almost burst into tears as she saw that Niko’s right eye was almost completely swollen shut. Blood trickled from both nostrils and one corner of his mouth, as well as from numerous cuts on his forehead, chin, and cheeks. He had been brutally beaten. His shirt was almost ripped off, most of it hanging in long shreds saturated with fresh blood.

She could see part of his bare chest and stomach, which also showed scrapes and deep red bruises. The officer jerked Niko’s head upright, then turned to them and once again in clear, unaccented Greek, asked, Who admits to knowing this man? We have been informed that he is from this village, but our informant won’t tell who he is.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper on which could be seen a list of names. He studied it briefly, then, added, We need to know to which band of ‘resistance fighters’ this man belongs, and where they hide out. If you cooperate fully, no harm will come to you. If you do not help us, then… he paused to look toward the dreaded maschinengewehr.

An awkward period of silence passed, each villager exchanging glances with others, but no one said a word. The officer motioned to the two soldiers manning the gun. One shifted the weapon slightly to better sight down the barrel and gradually started to tighten his finger around the trigger.

Suddenly a male voice rang out from behind Athena, startling her and everyone around her. The man began to shove his way through the crowd to reach the front where he approached the German officer.

Athena saw with dismay that it was Vito’s father. She turned quickly to see Vito himself in the back huddled beside his mother, shaking with fear.

The father’s words, just barely reaching her, made her crane forward to listen more intently. She heard him forcefully announce, You told my son you wouldn’t hurt any of us if we gave you a resistance fighter. You have his rifle as proof. Take him and leave; you gave your word.

The officer pulled himself erect, clearly irritated at the man’s brash insolence. He stepped away from Vito’s father as if he were separating himself from something rotten, something that revolted him to the core.

My word, you say, he angrily retorted. And I should take your word about this man? You aren’t worthy of licking his shoes. You and your son are disgusting…traitors to your own people and country. Why should I take your word? The only words I accept will come from that man there, motioning toward Niko, "and he seems determined not to give it, even though under…shall we say, severe pressure. The word of his mother I would accept also, or maybe a close friend of his who knows him well. But you, or your son’s word, the word of traitors? No, I do not trust vermin like you. A German would never betray