The Rape of Aphrodite (1985) - full transcript

The Rape of Aphrodite

Dedicated to the 3 dead of the 9th May
1957 rally for Cyprus in Athens.

Our unit arrived at Diorios.

We regrouped

and it was there where
the second invasion found us.

14th August...

The loudspeaker, the alert,
woke us up.

'Take positions outside the camp,'
they said.

We popped out and
jumped into the slit trenches

next to our anti-aircraft weapons,

that is to say, some Brens
used as anti-aircraft weapons...



The planes appeared...

They were falling on us
with that horrible howl

and we were trying
to stick on the earth,

to crawl on it, to become one
with the earth. It was something horrible.

The noise, the fear...

Then, at one moment,
we heard the loudspeaker saying:

'Attention, attention!'

'Your commander is speaking.
It's an order. Don't shoot at any plane!'

'Pay attention! Don't shoot at any plane!'

'We just received a message
that over Cyprus, over Greek Cyprus,'

'the Greek wings are flying at last.'

They had picked up such...

a signal...

Such was the order they took.



Well, as we were crawled on the soil,
everyone...

I say this, you know,
and a shudder runs through me,

everyone jumped out, firing into the air,
terribly overjoyed.

Mother Greece enters the war at last.
Now we'll throw them into the sea.

We left behind trenches and
anti-aircraft weapons,

and went back to the camp.

In the kiosk we treated
each other to a coffee, a cola...

The commander broke down
in tears... hugs, kisses,

lieutenants with plain soldiers,
colonels with plain soldiers...

We never actually saw
the Greek wings.

The junta in Greece
had fallen,

but everything was in disarray.

We were waiting in vain.

Every day
early in the morning, right?

I'll be coming every day at 7,
if that suits you, okay?

So then, it is 14 years, eh?

You said that you were
abroad that long, no?

That's much too long.

Different times!

Who could ever believe
that the Turks will come!

The times were different
when you left.

But the Turks, as it seems,
prepared that for years.

We've left with almost nothing.

They took everything from us.

Last week, on my way back
from Kourion, from a taxi ride,

at the entrance of Ipsos
I saw my friend, Aftonomos.

Aftonomos is a fisherman,
a refugee from Karavas.

'Get out to have a beer together,
Themistocles old mate!'

I did.

While having our beer and chatting,
an armoured car passed,

an English one...

Then Aftonomos turns to me
and says:

'They have squeezed us,
Themistocles old chap,

between the military bases
and the sea.

Everyone of us must make a raft
and have it ready.

It's the only way to save yourself
in case the Turks set out to the south.'

What an idea!

Didn't the Turks do away with
the Armenians like this?

They started the massacre in '96
and finished it in '14, eh?

God helps those that help themselves,

as the proverb says.

- Where are you from?
- From Varosi.

- So, you are a refugee.
- Yes, from Lower Varosi.

A taxi driver then in Varosi,
a taxi driver now...

We left in haste to save our necks
from the bombardment,

almost barefoot and with just a few
bed sheets we had in the taxi by chance.

They're still back there.

My daughter's dowry...

She was going to get married
on 21st of July.

And the taxi...
I saved it...

and it saved us....

On 21st of July, eh?

- Sunday...
- Yes.

That Sunday...

Her fianc? has gone missing.

And think that on Saturday
20 July, day of the invasion,

he saved his neck
by a hair's breadth.

As he was going to his battalion
by a commandeered lorry,

a 'Phantom' suddenly appeared.

It fired at them and dropped
even a napalm bomb.

He was saved by a hair's breadth

only to go missing
at the battles in Agios Ilarionas.

My daughter was left alone.

She's still waiting.

To wake up in the mornings

with EOKA-B outside your windows...
[EOKA-B: Nationalist paramilitary group]

[National Anthem of Greece]

The National Guard
intervened today

in order to stop the fratricidal war
between the Greeks.

All armed resistance in the island
has ceased to exist.

This is only an internal affair
among the Greeks.

The National Guard has now assumed
full control of the situation.

Makarios is dead.

Greek Cypriot People
(voice of the putschist, Nikos Sampson)

In the name of God
and in the name of the People

and after my honorary selection
by the Armed Forces of our People

I assumed today the presidency
of Cypriot Republic.

You all know the incidents
that occurred up until now

and imposed the urgent intervention
of the armed sons of our country...

Greek Cypriot People,
the voice you hear is familiar.

You know who is speaking.

I am Makarios.

The one you elected
to be your leader.

I am not dead,
as it would please

the junta of Athens
and their agents here.

I am alive and I am on your side

a comrade and a standard bearer
in the joint fight!

State of Emergency Communiqu?, nr 1.

It is reported that
today in the morning

Turkish airplanes without warning,
cunningly and cowardly,

raided the radar station,

bombarded the camp
of the Hellenic Force of Cyprus

and dropped a small airborne force

inside the Nikosia-Agyrta
Turkish Cypriot enclave.

The Greek Cypriot forces
face with bravery...

On 15th of January 1950

the referendum on 'Union'
[with Greece] took place.

It was Sunday.

That day something
strange happened

Snow fell not only on the mountains
but also on the plains.

All Cyprus was covered by snow

all the way to the sea.

I recall it as if it were a dream.

I was 12 years old back then.

After 5 years, in '55,

EOKA would launch
the armed struggle for Union.

In July of '56, I joined
the rebels in the mountains.

A patrol had stopped
in our village.

A corporal and a sergeant
in a 'Land Rover.'

They ordered coffee.

The coffee-shop owner
treated them to a cognac.

Within two hours
they had got plastered

and they were both throwing up
in the water closet.

They had left behind on a chair

two 'Thompsons'
they carried with them.

We had been watching them
for a long while.

We rushed at them and
battered them to pieces.

We didn't kill them.

We only smacked them up.

There were three of us.

We picked up the two Thompsons
and took to the mountains.

I was already 18 years old.

- EOKA-B, eh?
- Yes.

EOKA-B. A roadblock.

Your IDs.

- Where are you going?
- To the grove of Achna.

We're looking for
this gentleman's relatives.

- Who's the gentleman?
- He's a Cypriot living in England.

- Is the car boot unlocked?
- It is.

- Shall I get out?
- No, stay in the car.

Are these bed sheets in the back?

Yes.

- Strange...
- It's the dowry...

It just happened...

All right. Go.

Some great men...

Bastards...

Rats...

I'm a refugee because of them.

Damn you!

What's their problem
with the bed sheets?

Ruffians!
To hell with you!

Ask my daughter
about the bed sheets...

They act tough
with their Kalashnikovs...

My God! Give me patience...

- Well?
- Well, here I am, married too.

I have two children, you know.

The little girl that spoke to you
on the phone is my daughter.

She's already 10 years old.

My son is younger.
He's almost 2 like your son.

- When was your son born?
- On 29 August 1972.

Mine on 15 January 1972.
He's a little bit older.

My wife comes from Varosi.
That is, a refugee.

Did you live in Varosi?

Yes, we lived in Varosi
for the last ten years.

Now, we're staying at my mother's,
you know.

I received from my wife's dowry
a piece of land by the sea.

We built a block of flats.

We had a good life.

This whole affair of the invasion
has naturally hurt our interests.

Nevertheless,
the things will get fixed.

There's unemployment.
Wages are low.

Housing, as I see it,
will become a problem.

It's already a problem,
definitely a major one.

Provided that the Turks won't
come further down, of course.

Anyway... I agreed with two friends
to form a company and start building

blocks of flats.... in Nicosia,
in Limassol...

Naturally, you understand...

We mustn't lose our mind,
Evagoras.

We must think calmly, reasonably.

We had a lot of money.
We were rich.

The government must help us,
give us loans.

To 're-make' ourselves.

Do you agree?

Anyway...

I've said enough.
Now it's your turn.

You know, we talk with friends
all the time about these things

and I was carried away....

So, it's your turn now. Tell me.
Have you been in Cyprus long?

Your wife? Your son?

Have you come alone?

How about your job?
Did you manage?

A philologist?

Yes.

In a college of Orlando University.

I teach Greek literature.

Still...

I don't know, I don't understand.

Or I probably understand...

Listen, Onisilos...

I'll explain things to you
in a few words.

I'm really in a tight spot.

I wouldn't like to bother you
with my troubles.

You have your own worries.

Yet...

As I told you, I got married.

A bit late, but I took the decision.

My wife came to Cyprus on holiday
on 9 July along with my son.

They went to my village,
to be close to my mother.

I've never seen them again since.

I was going to come too
on 20 July, but...

I came at the end of August.

I had been injured
in a car accident

on 1st of August.

You know...

The nerves...

the tension created by the events...

I saw everything on TV.

To watch and to be tied...

To can't pick up
a station on the Radio...

To can't hear...

The airfields closed...

the same with the ports...

I stayed in hospital
for three weeks.

Now I'm searching.

I'm trying to find them.

But there's too many people

missing...

You will find them, Evagoras.

I'll help as much I can.

Just not to forget...
I have a surprise for you.

Look here what I found
at my mother's.

Two identical copies were preserved
in an envelope for 16 years now.

What's this?

'You said: I'll go to another country
[Poem by C.P. Cavafy]

go to another shore,

find another city

better than this one.'

'You won't find another shore.

This city will always pursue you.

You will always end up in this city.'

- This was our motto.
- Yes.

Thank you, Onisilos.

Right when you phoned,
I put it in my pocket.

You should know that

a similar one exists in the Museum
of National Liberation Struggle

- That's history!
- In Mahairas... in '56.

Wasn't it in '56?

9/3/56. My birthday.

And the day the English
exiled Makarios to Seychelles.

(Together) We grew old.

Remember the others?

Pericles... now an advertiser.

He succeeded in life.

This one went to Greece in '67.

I heard he worked
in television there.

Some broadcasts for the junta,
you know.

Nonetheless he succeeded.
He made a lot of money.

The other one is Hermes.

This one is Epaminondas.
Remember him?

He became a policeman.

He remained the same later
as he was then in the mountains,

always complaining that
he was 'neglected,'

'unfairly treated,'
he was moping like that...

He ended up in EOKA-B.

They naturally kicked him out
the police before the coup.

Now he's going around
long-haired,

bearded,

and with a Kalashnikov
over the shoulder.

Paris Agathokleous from Leonari

asks anyone knowing anything
about his relatives

to contact the Search Bureau
of Missing Relatives

Hephaestus Patroklou from Trikomo

is in search of his relatives.

Herodotus Sophokleous from Karoussa

is in search of his relatives.

[The list of people in search
of their missing relatives goes on]

Meeting Space
of Relatives & Missing Persons.

[Traditional lullaby]

Hello.

- You're Evagoras, aren't you?
- Uncle Kimonas!

- Is that you?
- Yes, my son.

You recognized me, eh?

if it wasn't for that gentleman
who showed you to me

I wouldn't recognize you.
You're away so many years now.

Well, tell me, sonny,
when did you come?

Five-six days ago.

I heard your name
and came to talk with you.

Go on, have a seat.

You know, I'm left alone here, too.

- Whose is the little guy?
- Try to figure out.

He's my grandson.

Son of my son, Neocles.

Remember him?
You used to be friends.

Come along and take a seat, uncle.

Sit down.

My Neocles has gone missing.

Whether he's alive or dead,

or captive,

or in Turkey's prisons...

no one knows.

I wish he was in
one of their prisons.

We're left alone, I and Mitsis.

Don't ask how we managed
to get here.

It's a long story.

The others made a stop at Korkon
and stayed there.

My wife, my sons,

and the rest of grandchildren.

All of them.

Only him...

What is it, dear?

- Tell your uncle your name, sonny.
- Evagoras.

Evagoras?

We have the same name, eh?
Come over here.

I'm taking him for a moment only,
uncle Kimonas.

Well, tell me.
How old are you?

- Seven.
- Seven years old?

- So, you go to school, eh?
- Yeah.

Have you seen my family,
uncle Kimonas?

My wife, my son...

my mother, my father...

You must have seen them.

My wife came to Cyprus on 9 July
before the putsch.

- I've seen Adonis.
- Have you really seen him?

I've seen them, my son.

Both your wife, Aphrodite,
and your son.

Yet, I don't know
where they're now.

I heard Nicosia's schools accommodate
many people from our village.

Go there and have a look.
Maybe they're down there.

They took all my properties.

Tough times fell upon us.

Wars, disasters, emigration...

Come in.

- Good morning. Your tea.
- Thank you.

Are you going out?

I'm asking because I want
to tidy up the room a bit.

Please.

Do you come from
the place over there?

Yes.

From the village we can see?

No.

My village is behind the mountain.

Behind that mountain peak.

That means...

you can neither go to it
nor see it.

Exactly.

Have you been away for long?

Fourteen years.

How might it be there now?

As if I never came back.

First immigrant, then refugee...

Strange thing...

It's all the same...

Watermelons!

If you went away 14 years ago,

you couldn't be
in Cyprus in '63, right?

No I wasn't.

Rough times.
Want a cigarette?

Those were rough times
but compared to nowadays...

'63 was...

I don't know why
I brought it to mind.

In '63 I was coming back from Karavas
along with a co-partner.

So, I was together with Damianos

loaded with lemons
like the watermelons in front.

Well, passing through the Kioneli...
Remember Kioneli?

Remember when in '57

the Turks slaughtered in Kioneli
the partisans from Kontomeno?

Our boys?

Of course, these were
dirty tricks of the English.

That was the village...

You were in Cyprus in '57,
weren't you?

Yes, I was.

I remember.

Well then, we were passing
through Kioneli in '63.

As soon as we got to Kioneli,
Makarios renounced the agreements.

We were about 50 vehicles in line,
all Greeks.

The Turks had set up
an offhand barricade

and they started threatening us
with their fists,

with sticks, hoes, pitchforks...

Some were waving cleavers
like those Butchers have.

'This is our end,'
I said to Damianos.

Nevertheless, they let us pass.

After a couple of hours,
the upheavals in Nicosia began.

Again, the English mafia
instigated all this.

It was the 24th of December,
on Christmas eve,

in '63.

That's how it is, dear Evagoras.

The Turks turned them over
to the Red Cross.

And we went all together
to pick her up.

There were too many girls,
beautiful like early dew.

That good-for-nothing
husband of hers came along

with his long face...

Our Aphrodite kept crying,
crying for hours.

And he... couldn't be
bothered to approach her.

I'm your aunt and, still, I feel
shame saying all these to you.

He neither then nor later
tried to get closer to her.

His manners became strange...

He would start quarrelling
for no reason at all.

And eventually...
he started speaking of divorce.

And may it was only that...

Whenever our Aphrodite went
through the refugee camp,

all women were giving her
such a look...

as though my daughter
had wanted what happened...

One day, he said to her:
'It would be better, if you were dead.'

He preferred her dead rather
than what happened to her...

And in the end...

He went away and left her alone.

'I must go away as well, I must,'
my daughter was saying, too.

But where to go with the baby?
How to support it?

What to do?

In the end...

She went away
leaving the baby to me.

She went to Greece alone.

If you could see her,
you'd have empathized with her.

She became all skin and bones.

As for the good-for-nothing
husband of hers...

a deafening silence.

It was a question of pride for him.

The pride...

I myself don't even know
what this pride is all about.

Come on, love.
Eat up and go to play.

As concerns your mother now,
go see her.

Though it's even better...

besides your mother...

to visit your cousin in hospital.

He'll be very glad to see you.

I went with your uncle
to see him yesterday.

He's getting better.

Luckily...

my son was rescued.

Go... see him, he's better.

And my wife? My son?

Have you ever
seen them again, aunt?

As I told you before,

we saw them the first day
the came from England,

before the putsch.

We saw them once at your mother's.

But then...

we've never seen them again...

neither your son...

nor your Aphrodite.

I don't know...

I haven't seen them, dear Evagoras.

I haven't seen them.

When the Turkish tanks passed by,

we realized that we were trapped.

There were four of us, reservists.

We tried helter-skelter to hide

until the night comes.

Thucydides, one of my comrades,

more or less knew the area.
We had to reach the bases.

It was our only hope of rescue
because we knew that the Turks

would never get into
the bases of the English.

We had to find water too.
We hadn't drank any for 24 hours.

Our mouths were dried
from the thirst.

We blanched like the flour,
our lips were chapped.

When the night came,
we walked for a while.

We covered a long distance
but the dawn came early.

We found a sheep pen
and sneaked in.

We had to wait for the night, again.

There we found water.
We quenched our thirst.

There were some lambs in the pen.

We thought of slaughtering one
but the smoke...

We were hungry.

Near to noon we saw
someone coming from afar.

We figured out that he was a Turk
because he did nothing to hide.

We were afraid

no matter if he was just one,
and we, four.

We had no weapons either.

We threw them away,
when we realized that

the pen pushers we had
for officers, the men of 'junta,'

had abandoned us.

Anyway, to revert to my story,
we saw the Turk coming directly to us

and we didn't know where to hide.

We simply pulled back
inside the shed.

It seems that he got scared as well

because he stood for a while
when he saw us.

Yet, he made up his mind
and came closer.

He got into the pen

and headed right away to the shed.

He was roughly 55-60 years old.

He stood at the door
because it was hard to see us.

It was dark inside.

He looked for us with his eyes
and, when he spotted us,

said something in Turkish
we didn't understand.

Then he said to us in Greek:
'Don't be afraid.'

'I'm a Cypriot too. Hasanis.'

He came close to us.

He gave his hand
and introduced himself.

We told him we were hungry.
He said he'll come back.

So he left.

But we were in fear for our lives.

'What if he betrays us?'

Nevertheless, he came back
and brought us food.

Bread, olives,
halloumi cheese and milk.

We satisfied our hunger.
We hadn't eaten for two days.

Then Hasanis turns to us and says:

'We're leaving for the bases
at night, lads.'

'I'll show you the way.'

We couldn't believe our ears.

Nevertheless, he came.

It was a dark night
without moonlight.

Hasanis was going ahead
we were following behind.

We were following him
like children following their parents.

That blindly...

After a two-hour walk, some orange
lights showed up in the distance.

The bases...

While marching,

we suddenly hear a voice:
'Halt!'

We got frozen.

That 'Halt' was a bit abrupt, crude...

It wasn't the Turks.

It was the English.

They came to us.

When their sergeant on charge
learnt that Hasanis is a Turk

got confused.

He asked him again as if
he couldn't believe what he heard.

And Hasanis told him again:
'I'm a Turk.'

- 'But a Cypriot.'
- However the Englishman insisted.

'- Don't you know these ones are Greeks?
- I know it but they're Cypriots too.'

Hasanis answered.

They were speaking English
but we could understand a few things.

Then Hasanis turns to us and says:
'Good-bye lads!'

'I have to go.'

Diomedes, one of us,
gave him his hand

to greet him:
'We thank you, Hasanis.'

And they kissed each other
on both cheeks.

Then we did the same.

And he went away.

That suddenly, without turning back,
without saying anything.

He went away.

The English interrogated us,
write down our names,

asked where we're from,
if we were soldiers...

We said we are reservists.

- 'Makarios?' An English says.
- 'Yes, yes!'

We answer him.

They put us in a Land Rover.

'We'll turn you over
to Cypriot Authorities.'

They turned us over to EOKA-B.

There were four, unshaved, bearded...

As soon as the English left,
they put us in another Land Rover.

Two of them sat in the front,
the other two in the back with us.

'Reservists, eh?'
said one of those in the back.

They were holding Kalashnikovs,
the four of them.

As about us... we didn't say a word.
We kept our mouths shut.

Either they had recognized us

or the English had turned us in.

All the time when they were underground
we were hunting them down

Now, the State was them.
They were holding us tight.

They took us to a police station.
We got out.

Another dozen of young men,
unshaved like them, fall on us.

They beat us to a pulp,
they pulverized us.

Then they tied us up,
stuck plasters on our mouths

and put us once more
in the Land Rover.

'Say your prayers,' said to us,
'Commies!'

They brought us to a shed.

And without lots of words,
they put our backs against the wall.

With the fist volley,
a bullet shot me.

I passed out.

They might have thought
that I was dead.

Around noon
some shepherds found us.

I was saved.

But Thucydides, Orestes
and Diomedes...

are dead.

They have killed them.

I'm not sure, Evagoras...

whether it was a dream or not

but I will never forget it.

I can't take it out of my mind.

Before going away,

after they shoot us

one of them hang the Kalashnikov
at the shoulder,

stood next to the whitewashed wall

and pissed...

Beside us.

Out of fear? Out of guilt?

I can't say.

But I will never forget it.

I keep seeing him in front of me...

pissing...

on the white wall.

- Who died?
- A soldier.

We had infiltrated and occupied
the fort Koutsakagia.

We kept it for ten hours

and then abandoned it
because we left out of bullets.

We left back a dead.

We fell back towards
Profitis Elias hill.

Then lorries took us down
to Karavas-Kyrenia route.

After that we continued on foot.
We were 45 altogether.

We formed groups of six,
put the weapons crosswise

and marched on singing
like in a parade.

From the slit trench
the Lokatzides (Mountain Raiders)

attack with irresistible momentum

attack like untamed lions...

I sincerely believed,
and all did the same,

that we were meant to go
like that up to Kyrenia

in groups of six, in formation
of parade and singing.

And I was looking forward to sit
at the small port of Kyrenia,

have a beer and listen to
the mullets jumping out of the water.

A plane of Turkish Air Force
was flying above.

Two miles further down,
the Turks were landing.

But our morale was high.

We heard the radio saying

the corpses of the Turks
float on the sea of Kyrenia.

We had torn apart the enemy.

It was Sunday, 21st of July,

around noon.

While marching on
in groups of six and singing,

we suddenly saw some
of our own vehicles burnt away.

Almost immediately,
we heard firings.

It was the Turks.

Our formation was split away
and opened up.

We were one mile away
from the landing point.

There was something like a natural
embankment ahead and, then, a plateau,

scarce houses,
bright green fields...

We took cover at the embankment
and started firing.

The captain comes to me
and says:

'Disperse your men, each one
100 m. away from the other.'

I protested.
'100 m. are too many.'

He says to me:
'You know that we're only 45.'

Honestly, I thought of
giving up and leaving.

I said to him: 'Why don't go?
What could 45 men do?''

'We'll get killed.'

'No one leaves,' he says to me.
'We're staying here.'

We held out from Sunday noon
to late evening.

8 hours of battle
without moving from there.

We didn't go ahead
but we didn't fall back either.

We couldn't even lift
our heads up.

They were shelling us from everywhere.
From mortars, from above, from ships.

One of us died.

It wasn't from our squad.
We found him lying with his weapon.

Next day, with the first light of dawn,
we carried out an attack,

The groups of Turks we met
were falling back, retreating.

We moved forward from
Anemomylos to Clearchus.

We had such a great feeling...

as we were seeing them
fleeing away,

as we were moving forward.

We were 45...
Think of us being 1.000!

2.000!

And instead of fighting the enemy
at the mountain

hitting him at the sea,

at the landing point.

The same day, Monday
22nd of July,

they started unloading tanks.

It was so terrible
while you can't give a fight

to hear the ships of Turks...

and the cranes...

unloading tanks...

And you, standing there,

watching and not being
able to do anything.

Only watching.

In 28th of July, a company
of infantry was trapped.

They asked help from our squad.

From the 45 of us,
the half went to help.

In 29th of July

I was injured by a grenade
and a bullet in the arm.

They carried me
to Lapithos Hospital.

There, I found the captain
injured, too.

'What are you doing here,
staff sergeant?'

'- I was injured.
- And has the company left alone?'

'- Yes.
- Let's go!'

We got into a Land Rover and left.

He didn't believe
he would find his soldiers there.

Yet, there were all of them
still there and they were fighting

because the truce was over.

Then, the captain sat down
and started crying.

The shells kept dropping
close to us.

'Greetings to you!'

'It's worth staying
in this island to die.'

He was a 'pen pusher'
from Karpenisi.

We held out till the beginning

of the attack on the axis
Karavas-Lapithos.

Then... we retreated.

- Where are we now?
- Ikosi, a Turkish village.

The Turks were forced
to leave in '63-64

due to the upheavals.

TMT's (Turkish Cypriot Resistance)
job, of course. You know.

From '55...

Agents of Ankara
and of the English

forced them to leave
and go to the regions

they controlled themselves
already since then.

With coercion, violence, terrorism...

a lot of beating,
a lot of stabbing...

They managed to make
their own people refugees...

The Turks, that is TMT,
had their aim of course.

'Taksim.' Partition.

In '55 they had to prove

that all of a sudden Greeks
and Turks cannot live together.

With the passage of time,
the houses collapsed

and became deserted
as you can see them now.

Leave her alone!

My son...

My son...

Watch your son, Aphrodite!

I feel sleepy.

No, no on the bed!
The bed...

My son...

My son!

I want to sleep.

But not on the bed!
Not on the bed!

I feel sleepy, feel sleepy...

He had got the demeanour of Elpenor
right before he fell and broke his neck.

However he wasn't drunk.

There were three of us.

We picked up the two Thompsons
and took to the mountains.

I was already 18 years old.

They welcomed us warmly, up there.

The struggle was hard.

But we knew
what we were fighting for.

And it wasn't all about
getting rid of the English...

liberation of the country,
self-determination or union...

We were fighting for
many other things along them.

For a feeling
of individual freedom,

dignity, self-respect...

[We demand the Union
of Cyprus with Greece]

(Camera pauses on names of Turkish
Cypriots who signed the petition)

In September of '55,

the well-known events
took place in Istanbul.

The same day... there was
bloodshed in Cyprus too.

Everything went
according to plan.

It was during the days of
the Tripartite Conference in London.

Following that, the English
set up the Auxiliary Force,

a special police force
consisted exclusively of Turks,

most of them secret members of TMT.

Now the Turks could
legitimately kill and repress

under the umbrella of Power.

The English turned
a blind eye to all that.

Despite the ongoing bloodshed,
we, Greeks, were showing self-restrain.

Because it was too obvious
where all this was leading to.

If we were to respond,
we would ignite the fire.

But the blood is blood.
It's boiling hot...

Once, twice... the third time
one couldn't take it any more

and answered.

So we and the Turks
started killing each other.

The English were rubbing
their hands together.

Then, Afxentiou was killed.

[Gymnasium of All Cyprus]

Little Aphrodite!

Little Aphrodite!

[Honorary plaque]

[in the memory of the students who fell
during national liberation struggle.]

Little Aphrodite!

Little Aphrodite!

Little Aphrodite!

Uncle Brillios had a (turkey) stag
[Children's song]

Uncle Brillios had a stag

Very large, very large

Feeding him, feeding him
with bread and salt

To make him fat

To make him fat

Feeding him, feeding him
with bread roll

To make him roll

To make him roll

Feeding him, feeding him
with bread filled with cream

To make him big

To make him big

Feeding him, feeding him
with pastries made of flour

He no longer fitted
to pass through the door

To pass through the door

Then, a day without sun

The stag munched the uncle

Munched the uncle.

Little Aphrodite!

Little Aphrodite!

She's in there.

Then, Afxentiou was killed.

After his death,
more and more killings came.

The English were rubbing
their hands together.

Then, one morning,
the struggle came to an end.

We were who fired the guns

but our future was decided
elsewhere, without us.

So, instead of
self-determination and union

we were compelled
to accept independence,

and, on top of that, a crippled,
mutilated independence.

This outcome was the greatest
disappointment for us

because we had fought
for one thing,

and we were compelled
to accept another.

'So much suffering,'

'so much life went into the abyss'

'all for an empty tunic'

'all for a Helen.'
(from 'Helen,' a poem by G. Seferis)

There was no way
to make a living either.

In December of 1960,

my mother packed my things
into a suitcase,

I borrowed an old jacket,

and with 5 pounds in my pocket,
my father's savings,

I left for England.

What's going on?

They're burning newspapers
speaking about Makarios' return.

[Afxentiou lives!]

[Shame on you, traitors!]

[Afxentiou lives!]

Wait a moment.

I've seen our aunt...

and our mother.

Maybe, she's the happiest of all.

She's far from all this.

A long way off.

And happy.

What about our father?

The father is dead.

Neocles was lost in the battles
of Agios Ilarionas.

Only the two of us left behind,
Evagoras.

I want to ask you something
but I can't utter it.

Have you seen Aphrodite?

My son?

Do you know where they are?

We went and took them
from the airport.

Aphrodite and your son...

Have you seen Aphrodite?

My son?

Do you know where they are?

We went and took them
from the airport.

Aphrodite...

and your son...

are... dead, Evagoras.

Near to noon, the Turkish
aircraft showed up.

There were 5 Phantoms,
painted black.

They flied over Ksero.
they rose high above the mountains,

they went down over Kakopetria
and Skouriotissa,

and headed all the way towards
our guardhouse in Stefani.

They passed at low height over us.

We were really scared shitless,
we were lost.

I felt like hiding in a dug hole
where no one could see me.

The fear is so horrible
under that lasting terrifying howl.

Especially when they fire
their shots, it's like hell.

Before they came back,
I had taken my position,

at the machine gun which was
convertible to anti-aircraft weapon

It was possible
with special mountings.

Yet, we didn't have them.

The planes were sighted again
attacking from Skouriotissa.

As I saw them coming against me,
I aimed and pulled the trigger

till the ammunition belt
run out of bullets.

They dropped napalm bombs.

One of us caught fire.

'Help me, boys! Help! Help!'

he was yelling and crying out.
He was burning like a candle.

He didn't fall down.
He remained standing on his feet.

'I'm burnt' he cried out and, then,
became prey of the flames.

A fire in the shape of a man.

He burnt to ashes.

We replaced the ammunition belt.

I saw them coming back
and rushing at us.

I gritted my teeth
and squeezed the trigger again.

The ammunition belt
run out of bullets.

I realized that
I had hit one at least.

I saw it smoking.

It plunged into the sea
at Morfou Bay.

It was the plane they mentioned
in the 21st war communiqu?.

There was a dead silence around.

Nothing was to be heard.

Everything was quiet.

In this immense quiet

we were alone.

The time had stopped.

The life.

We came closer to the soldier
who was burnt.

I reached out my hand...

The moment I touched him,
he disintegrated.

He turned to dust.

He was reduced to ashes.

A handful of ashes...

that scattered over the soil.

Come in.

Do you want anything else?

- No, thank you.
- May I tidy up the room a bit?

Yes, please.

Does your neighbour annoy you?

- Do you mean the music?
- Yes.

No, it's all right.

He's an old violinist,
a refugee from Kyrenia.

He brought along a violin, a suitcase
full of records and an old phonograph.

Nothing else. He stays in
and listens to the music all the time.

Like you do lately...

I'm asking because there some people
that get irritated with the music.

It doesn't bother me at all.

- What's your name?
- Afra... from Aphrodite.

Return
(Poem by C.P. Cavafy)

often and take me
beloved sensation

Return and take me

when the memory
of the body awakens,

and an old desire runs again
through the blood

when the lips
and the skin remember,

and the hands feel
as if they touch again.

Return often
and take me at night,

when the lips
and the skin remember....

As I've already told you
on the phone,

the gentleman here is a man of trust
and friend of mine.

First of all I'd like to thank you
for agreeing to help me.

I'm interested in...

I'm interested in a Bren gun

with 500 bullets
and like number of magazines,

20 sticks of dynamite
and a pistol with silencer.

I'll do my best.

The money must be
in five-pound notes, cash.

My great love,
you've lit up my dreams

and you've given
meaning to my life

New words I'm trying hard to find

to tell you my great secret

but whenever I see you,
I'm dazed and confused,

I can't make it
to say anything at all.

Good evening.

How's life treating you?

Shall we have a drink?

All right, I see...

Don't insist.

Why?

Are you in pain?

No.

Another man?

It was April of '67.

One late evening, I saw a man from
my village carry weapons to a barn.

He was a member of a secret
organisation. I can't recall which...

I never remember details...

It was before EOKA-B.

I only remember that

what I'd seen by chance
had to be kept secret by all means.

He had to shut up my mouth.

So, in order to be sure
he made a dead set at me.

He raped me.

How easy it is to say
this word now...

He had a lot of pull,
he knew all the cops,

he was well in with a Minister,
he wasn't afraid of anyone.

I could see that he liked me
for a long time before.

That whole story
was just a pretext.

He had a front gold tooth.

He was biting my shoulder
till it bled.

It was late April of '67.

I've never told anyone anything.

In September of the same year,
I got engaged.

An arranged marriage.

The same night, my fianc?
kicked me out.

I wasn't a virgin.

I tried to put an act...

but I couldn't fool him.

Then, my father and brother
started bashing me.

I couldn't stand living
in the village any more.

The one who ruined me
promised to do something for me.

I went down to the city, I was young,
he found a job for me.

In December of '67 he fixed my papers
to leave for Athens.

I worked at a bar in Philonos Street
and then at other clubs...

This year after seven years...

I made up my mind to come back.

On 9th of July, Thursday evening,
I arrived at Nicosia.

By Tuesday, I'd got a job in Kyrenia.

On Monday, the coup d??tat took place.

On Saturday, the invasion...

The Turks...

I made it at least to see Kyrenia

but I couldn't make it
to go to my village

though I wanted it so much.

It's seven years now
since I left home,

and never went back.

I feel as a stranger
here in this city.

I'm twice a refugee
as you can see.

Anyway...

Later I learnt that my brother
was killed during the coup d??tat.

Our family is left-wing.

They killed him.

On Friday 19 July,
although the bars were closed

because of the putsch,
I went to bed late.

I kept company to a girlfriend,
a workmate from the bar.

The very same night, police notified
her boyfriend to report to his unit.

They knew, you see, that
the Turks were coming.

He was a Lokatzis (Mountain Raider).

He's gone missing at the battles
of Agios Ilarionas.

I mustn't have slept more
than a couple of hours

when the bombardment started

We had rented a room
in an old two-storey hotel.

After the first explosions,
everyone in the building

ran for shelter in the basement.

There were ten of us.

Eight women among us.

There was also a couple
from a house nearby

along with their
5-year old little girl,

and old man,

and, later, a soldier came too.

He had a leg injury.
He was bleeding.

We stayed in the basement
for two days.

Throughout Saturday evening
we were hearing bombs blasting.

The building was shaking.
The same on Sunday.

On Monday, the noise of tanks
covered everything else.

Before the night falls,

they found us.

There were 7 of them
with shaven heads,

Turks from Turkey.

They killed the soldier
on the spot.

His brain was splattered
all over the floor.

They separated the three
youngest women of us

and the woman with the baby
from the others.

The little girl was crying.

By pushing and making angry gestures
they showed us to go up the stairs...

We were acting like
we couldn't understand.

Then, a Turk grabbed
the married woman from the tit...

Her husband rushed to stop him.

They shot him...

He only said 'My Aphrodite...'

and fell dead on the spot.

The little one clung to her mother
and was shouting to me.

The Turks pulled her away
and threw her on the floor.

She was hit and passed out
next to soldier's splattered brains.

As for us...

We were crying.

No matter what we can say...

if you don't see it
with your own eyes...

I can't use so many words for something
that happened in two shakes.

One of them remained down to guard.
The other six took us upstairs.

The hotel was deserted.

I don't know why...
I had nothing to lose.

But something deep inside me
pushed me to resist.

I just didn't want it,
didn't like it.

There were two of them.
They rushed at me.

They tore apart my skirt, my blouse...

Only my knickers'
waistband remained.

They smashed me.

Twice each one of them.

They were biting me, at the ribs,
at the throat, at the lips...

They finished and went away.

I was worn out.

Incapable of thinking or moving.

The door was hardly shut

and another one coming
from the next room got in.

Naked.

I was naked too.

I couldn't put anything on me in time.
They had torn all my clothes apart.

I had a fit of madness.
I resisted again.

He defeated me.

He was a savage, a beast,
I felt his teeth sink into my body...

into my breast...

I passed out.

When I came round,

I was lying in a pool of blood.

I'll tell you one thing, Evagoras.

After these seven years
of my life at the bar...

I came to suddenly realize...

or, better,

I never understood

how it is possible to sell something
that shouldn't have any value

since it is natural and abundant.

I can't understand
why all this misery...

Don't talk any more...

I can feel you.

It is perhaps here

where the cause of your rape
lies, Aphrodite.

One day I watched a French film.

The heroine, an aristocratic lady...

walks out on her husband and goes away
with a young man she met by chance.

'I'm happy, I'm happy'
she says to her beloved man.

'Only if I could spend
my whole life like that...'

'My life started anew with you.'

I feel the same.

Thank you, Evagoras.

Welcome in my life.

You're the first man for me.

I'm ashamed to confess it.

At your side, for the first time
in my life, I came...

to know.

I'm feeling free.
Like flying.

I can't find the right words.

The words alone are not enough.

Whatever I could say to you...

The words alone are not enough.

I'm feeling...

I'll be right back.

I'll be right back, Aphrodite.

Come in,

- Hello, Evagoras.
- Hello to you.

- I wasn't late, eh?
- No.

They made me delay in the lift.

Someone committed suicide.

A violinist threw out of the window
an old phonograph

and suitcase full of records

and hanged himself
with the strings of his violin.

I was in a hurry. I didn't stop
to learn all the details.

This must be the other - come in!

I'm sorry for being a little late...

They transfer the Turks to the north
for population exchange.

I was forced to drive round
so they wouldn't stop me.

There they are!

Here's the money.

- Is there any possibility of a jam?
- No, they're checked.

I must go now. Good-bye.

Evagoras, will you
think it over, again?

- It's never too late.
- It's impossible, Themistocles.

I never came back.

After fourteen years,

I'm still a stranger...

but not any more
in the land of mist...

If only I could see
behind the mountain,

behind Pentadaktylos.

Everything has changed
on this side here.

Over there?

How might my neighbourhood
look like?

And what about Adonis, Aphrodite?

I can't do otherwise, Themistocles...

old mate.

Thank you. You must go now.
There's no time left.

I'm coming back, Aphrodite.

[Halt! Towards Turkish-occupied area.]

'But even so I wish
and long day by day

to reach my home, and to see
the day of my return.'

Odyssey, Book V, 219-220.