by Acrivi Artemis Koutavas Anninos Georgelos

Europe was beginning to fear war. We in America were not. America did not fear war because it was thought to be highly unlikely to happen. We did not feel threatened at all, we simply didn’t see the dark clouds gathering and so we booked passage to Greece. In the spring of 1939, we set sail on the new ship Nea Ellas. We put all our furniture into storage with the idea of buying a new house in Greece, then Spiros would return to the States, sell the store, then return to Greece with our furniture, and we would stay there permanently. It seemed like such a wonderful idea, to have a home in Greece, to settle down, to be a whole family, finally….but it was not to be, it was not God’s will.

The world situation was gradually deteriorating. Our situation was too. My husband’s brother, who was still minding the store in America, did not write very often, but when he did it was always bad news. The store had staff problems, stocking problems, profit problems, many other problems. Three months after arriving in Greece, Spiros left for America. Once again he left me behind with the children. They needed to finish school, and we would all return to the States in the fall.

Spiros wanted me to return to America with him because the world was rapidly getting worse. Ships were being sunk in the Mediterranean by mines. I was too afraid to travel at a time like this, but eventually, I would have to, because Greece was in too much danger, it would not be safe to stay there for much longer. War was coming.

It was during this short time we were in Greece that my younger sister, Manya while living in Macedonia, met Andreas, a second lieutenant in the army. She was teaching and Andreas was on assignment there. They fell in love and wanted to get married, which my parents objected to because she dared to fall in love without their knowledge and permission. He came to visit them and to ask for her hand in marriage. They yielded and agreed because he turned out to be a fine young man, better than they first thought. Manya and Andreas would have three boys, the oldest, Spiros, who became a fine young man, studying at university. He hopes to come to America someday. But in late 1939 he was a small and fat one-year-old little boy.

In September 1940 the world fell apart.

War had broken out in Poland the year before, Hitler had invaded Norway and Denmark on the same day in April. One month later, the Germans had captured both the Netherlands and Belgium. The International situation was now worse than terrible. We knew that we had to leave Greece immediately if we were to leave at all.

It was very difficult to get permission to travel to the United States. After much trial and red tape, we managed to acquire our permits. Ocean liners were no longer sailing from the port of Piraeus and they did not sail on the Mediterranean at all. This meant that we would have to travel across western Europe to Lisbon, Portugal to catch a ship from there to the States.

With our passports safely in hand and each of us clutching a small suitcase, we set out from Athens by train on October 26th, 1940.

I still remember the parting scene that day, leaving my family. My eyes still fill with tears just as they did then. I bid them all goodbye expecting it to be forever. I had to say goodbye to Greece, Athens, the sky, the sea, all the people and things I loved so much. I passionately embraced my family and my country. I held them both tightly in my arms and my heart, and I still hold them there, because they are sacred things.

The children and I boarded the train. We soon discovered there were many passengers who were heading to the same destination as ours. We traveled through Thessaloniki, to the Serbian border, and at both these points, our passports were checked and our luggage searched.

We crossed into Serbia, and we could sense something very strange and mysterious in the air. We could not explain it, but we could feel it and did not know the reason.

On the 28th of October, we arrived at the great train station in Milan, Italy. It was night and very dark. With only a flashlight to light our way, we were taken off the train and led to a part of the station where there was food and cots. There were boxes of food and it appeared that this would be where we would spend the night.

“Please have something to eat, if you wish,” the person in charge told us. “We have blankets and pillows just over there on the table. We hope you will be comfortable here. It is the best we can do under our present circumstances” he told us. Then he paused and looked a bit uncomfortable.

“I should also inform you that today our government has declared war on Greece, please have a good evening.”

Then he left, his flashlight making pools of light on the floor and walls as he moved away.

We sat there in the darkness, stunned. Have a good evening? How were we supposed to do that? I found myself unable to eat anything, and I doubted that I would sleep either, but I did my best to make sure my boys did both.

We were bitter, we were sorrowful, we were full of fear. We were also indignant. All these feelings surged inside of me until I thought my heart would fill up and burst. What could we do? We were waiting for the next train to come so we could continue our journey. Yet, we really did not know what our fate might be. My only consolation was that my children had American passports, and I also realized that our true help, the only one who I knew could help us, was God.

The train arrived early the next morning. The children and I boarded and continued our journey. I had put all my hope in God. It was still dark when the station policeman came, and one, with his flashlight, checked our passports. He told us to get ready to board the train. We had to use his flashlight to see what time it was and to gather all our things. We were then told to come with him. We were the only ones that followed him. I did not know at first why that was. I was frightened but we went. We took our bags and hurried to the train. Once seated, the train inspector came by and with his very small light, checked our passports once again. We were free to go on.

I was grateful but at the same time very sad, for all Greek Citizens who were removed from the train the night before, had been detained at the station. I was allowed to continue because Andrew and Augustine, my sons, had American passports, and they were minors traveling with a parent. What else could I do but believe that God had helped us?

As the train began to move, I looked around me and realized that many of my fellow passengers, who had started out on this journey, were still with me and I got to know them as best I could. At the travel agent’s office in Athens, I had become acquainted with a lady and her daughter Julia. Both were very nice and Julia was a very beautiful girl. They were seated nearby.

I wonder where they are now, and how are they doing?

There was also Johnny, a wonderful boy, with his parents. They would always offer to help my boys with their luggage. Many years later I saw this family again, in Baltimore. Johnny was grown, with a wife and children of his own. There was also an elderly woman, a Mrs. Inglessi, who was highly educated and helped us by translating Italian and French, and finally English for us. At first, I was a bit suspicious of her. At every station we stopped at, she and her small suitcase would disappear for a little while. On the train, she would have nothing to do with her fellow passengers. There was a lady and her small boy who would shout every time he was hungry “Mama, I want bread and cheese!” My children and I still laugh every time we think of the Mother and her unusually hungry little boy. There were others with us on the train, and because we shared a common danger, and uncertainty, and offered comfort to each other, we felt like one big family of friends. My sons both had harmonicas and they would play while others would sing.

On the 30th of October, we arrived in Geneva, Switzerland. Our train could not continue thru France. The Nazis were commandeering all of the passenger trains entering France including ones traveling thru Southern France even though the Germans were not occupying that area. We were stranded in Switzerland unless we could raise the money for other means of transportation. I cabled Spiros in America and asked him to send me money. My fellow passengers cabled their families as well. We told them not to worry. From newspapers, we learned that in Greece war was waging and our boys were bravely fighting the Italians. During our stay in Switzerland, we went into town and bought a few souvenirs. We did not dare spend much money, because we were allowed to take only a small amount with us from Greece. I did see some of the best watches ever made in the shops there.

We visited the Greek Consulate and found out that the Greek ship Nea Ellas was docked in Lisbon, and this ship could take us to America.

We all chipped in the money we had received by cable from our families and rented a bus. We boarded, took our seats, and as the bus traveled down the road towards Lisbon, we all shared our uncomfortable thoughts and fears. Every time we made a stop, we bought food. Every time we crossed a border we would have to leave the bus and were led to a customs house where our bags were searched. It took us fifteen days to get from Athens to Lisbon and as soon as we arrived we had to visit the Greek Consulate and talk to the travel agent there. Sad news awaited us. The Nea Ellas had been taken to England to be used as a military transport ship. We learned that there was no other ship going to America. We also learned that our tickets on the Nea Ellas could not be used for passage on any other ship and were not refundable. There might be a ship sailing in the near future. What that ship would be? When it would sail? We were given no answer for either one of those questions. We were told to be patient and wait.

The consulate put us up in different hotels all over Lisbon. There was not enough space in any single hotel for all of us to stay together. We were able to wash and rest, something all of us needed to do, terribly so, after our too long fifteen-day trip.

Unlike many of our fellow passengers, my boys and I were put up in a fairly nice room. Mrs. Inglessi ended up in an attic room that had rats. She pleaded with the management to do something about that, and finally, they put her in a somewhat better room, shabby, but no rats.

Once again we sent cables to our families in America. We told them not to worry, and to send us money for passage on our future ship. We also sent cables to our families in Greece, but they never got them. We learned that the Italians had bombed Piraeus. The bombing had killed thousands of fish in the bay and destroyed the customs house. I had left in the customs house three trunks containing personal effects, household items, and books that were to be sent to me in the States. I was upset knowing that I had lost it all, but I was especially upset about losing my books, and things that belonged to my children. I had to remind myself that at a time like this, losing material things was not something to be egotistical about when humans were losing their lives fighting for their country and to keep their freedom.

We were in Lisbon for about a week waiting for a ship. During this time we toured the city and saw many important sights. We visited the Tropical Gardens, museums, and all the main tourist places, but our minds were not really there. We were worried about our beloved Greece and the war. We heard of victories of the Greek army and were very proud of our boys, but we did not know if any of our dear friends were alive or not. We were also very preoccupied with the uncertainty of making it to our final destination.

The day we had been waiting and hoping for finally came. We made one of our regular visits to the Greek Consulate. The agent who arranged our travel told us that we would be sailing on a Swedish-American ship, the MS Gripsholm. It was a smaller liner, a diesel motor-powered ship, not a steamer, but it was this or nothing. There was no hope for anything larger.

We finally embarked on our ship. As we sailed away we felt relieved, but some of us were filled with fear because this ship was so small. I joked with my fellow passengers that our ship was not much bigger than the one Columbus sailed on to discover America. Many became seasick, others were not bothered by the waves and the rolling of the ship at all. We played a lot of games, told jokes and stories, so the days passed quickly. At night the ship sailed without lights, which made everyone terribly uneasy. I was about the only one who was not afraid. I was a fatalist and I also believed in God. I was always smiling, and I gave courage to those who were afraid. They called me the “smiling lady”.

There were shipboard romances that were intense and caused a bit of a stir. But they ended when the ship finally reached New York. The voyage from Lisbon lasted two weeks. It seemed endless. When we finally saw, off in the distance, the light from the Statue of Liberty, we were overjoyed. We packed our bags once again, exchanged addresses, lovers said goodbye. We made ourselves ready to go out into the land of Freedom and to our loved ones.

It was the end of November, and very early in the morning when we approached New York harbor. Outside the ship, there was dense fog. The only thing we could see was the torch of the Statue of Liberty. As I thoughtfully looked at the light, I thought I heard a voice, as if it were Liberty herself speaking to me. I closed my eyes and listened.

“Do you see this torch I hold in my hand? It is to enlighten the mind and the soul of man, it is the light of faith and hope.”

I opened my eyes then and answered as if I was talking to a living woman. I said:

“I have seen you many times before and always admired the air and the idea behind you. Human hands created you but you gave the idea. Out of gratitude to you, Liberty, man-made you and put you up high so that all peoples might see you and all nations, enslaved and free, would want you and adore you like a goddess.”

I heard her voice reply to me.

“I am a great democracy, I am the mother of the world. I am the protector of orphans, I am liberty, I am America!”

I imagined then that I saw millions of men from all corners of the globe stretch out their hands towards the Statue of Liberty and a sweet voice, coming from the soul of this woman, say softly and lovingly to them:

“Come to me, all you suffering and wronged, come to me to find love and peace.”

The ship finally made it into port and it docked. The port and immigration authorities came on board to check all our papers and passports. On the dock we could see familiar faces, our families had come to greet us. There were wet eyes, embraces, questions about our trip, details given of the trip and its hardships,. Our loved ones told us how much they had suffered on our account, how they worried for us.

Spiros, my dear husband, and Dina, my niece, met us at the dock. They were overjoyed to have us with them, safe and sound. When we told them of all we had been through, our many trials and tribulations, they began to cry.

But our feet were on dry land again, in New York, we were home in the land of the Free and the home of the Brave.

We learned the news of home, of the Glorious No! Of John Metaxas, we learned of victories won by our long-suffering Greek Army. The papers reported that the fighting of the Greek Army against the Italians was like David versus Goliath. It was the new 1821, the new Thermopylae. The Greek people were united, they were drunk with the spirit of patriotism. This was conveyed to the Greeks in America and around the world.

We stayed in New York that night and the next day we left for Norfolk.

That first night, when I was alone, I would fall to my knees, thank God and the Virgin Mary, for protecting and saving my children and myself from danger. I vowed to work with all my power for those who were fighting for their freedom, for those who were shedding their blood for Greece.

End of Part 5