Greek Tales

My father was in the Fleet Airarm of the British navy and  Captain of an ML, Motor Launch, which patrolled the greek islands towards the end of WW11 and the German invasion of Greece . 

Here are some excerpts from his greek escapades.  Towards the end of the war my father was taking the ML from island to island, carrying greek forces who went ashore and made certain that all the German troops had left. The Motor Launch  set out for Greece from the British base in Alexandria.

"It was late October before we  were ready to sail for Kastelorizo.  After the fall of Greece,  the Germans had slowly driven the Allies from the Aegean until this island. tucked close into Turkey and right out of the way, was the only one left as a base for operations.

We worked our way up to Khios which had just been evacuated by the Germans to be told we were required in Samos.  There we spent the day  ferrying Italian prisoners of war out to a merchant ship and the evening sampling the wines of Samos.  A knowledgeable member of the crew would fill his glass, raise it to the light and shout 'Fill high the cup with Samian wine' ..Byron.

A knock on the wardroom door introduced Mr Kritikos who spoke good english and now, having personally evicted the Germans and Italians, considered himself at least Lord Mayor of Karlovassi (GoodBase) , a town on the island.  He made himself at home immediately, drawing me to one side to tell me who all the collaborators were and what should be done with them.  I persuaded him that a flagon of his best wine might cement relations between us so off he went.  Next morning I called on him to learn what was of interest on the island.  He took us trudging over the hills all day to shoot partridges, which we managed with scant success, though enough for dinner.

' I am Greek he said, my wife is Hungarian and my daughter was born in Canada'.  What a conglomeration.

We moved down to Symi as guard boat to learn that some fishermen had come in with a tale that the Germans were on their way back to the island.  

We embarked some  army types and cruised slowly round the island giving it a burst of Bofors and Oerlikon (canon fire) every few minutes until up went a white flag and out of the rocks crawled three very miserable Jerry radio operators.   So much for the German invasion.

Because of this we embarked some Greek and British army personnel to go round the islands checking if any Germans were still there.  We would intercept caiques off the coast who would give us all the local news, so we soon learnt that the Germans still remained on the larger islands such as Kos, Leros and Rhodes.  

Calling at the islands was always most profitable.  We were the first British the locals had seen for some years so we got a great welcome.  We feasted on cooked octopus tentacles, which were delicious, a raw cabbage salad soused in olive oil, stuffed eggplant followed by fresh figs, watermelons and other fruit, washed down by jugs of retsina wine. 

The crew bartered cigarettes for sweet potatoes, tomatoes, fruit and so on, while we had so many turkey dinners that we almost became sick of them.  I would welcome a lettuce salad or a cold dish now and again but not the crew.  If they didn't get their midday dinner every day they were ready to mutiny.  A steaming hot dinner followed by 'afters' of tinned fruit which was real luxury elsewhere, was commonplace for us.  The islands seemed to specialise in some produce not grown on the others, so there was a great deal of trading done by caique between the islands.

 Santorini bartered tomatoes, Mytilene olive oil, Siphnos pottery.  They all produced wine which seemed to us of high quality and this too was freely bartered.

Having sorted out the islands still held by the Germans and those which were now free we started organising raiding parties consisting of Greek troops with a British liaison officer.  The Army Commander gave us the location of the German positions on the island so that on a moonless night we could quietly slip into a suitable bay and nudge the bow of the ML up on the beach for the patrol to disembark on dry land.  We had tried using the dinghy to take them ashore but the resulting shambles was enough to waken the dead, let alone the German sentries on the headland above .  As we closed the shore we would warn the patrol to get ready and be quiet.  Immediately the Greeks would start shouting to each other and flashing torches to find their gear.  Although our gun crews were closed up ready for action we were in no position to offer any resistance if the Germans spotted us, so the casual attitude of the Greeks almost drove us frantic.

We would arrange for them to signal us when they wanted to be picked up or if anything went wrong.  Failing any radio contact we would rendezvous at the same place at a time previously arranged.  Invariably the wireless operator would either drop his transmitter in the sea or over the bow onto the beach, so we never heard from them once they disappeared into the black of the night.  They would give us a push off the beach accompanied by much shouting, cheering and flashing of torches.  Sighing with relief we would back off and creep slowly out of the bay to a spot down the coast well clear of enemy positions.

Next night we would pick up another patrol from a previous landing and return to base until it was time to rendezvous again.  This operation was just as hazardous as landing.  We would approach the bay with engines just ticking over and wait for a torch signal to pinpoint the patrol.  Sometimes we would be early and, lying in the bay, would follow their approach to the beach by the flashes of torches and murmur of voices which carried clearly across the water.  Cursing all Greeks and their unmarried parents we would move in, embark them as quickly as possible and get the hell out of it".