Athens, 2015
When we returned, Spyros Alexakis´mother was 104 years old and she took us to dance cretan dances. It was wonderful…
My entire family had settled in Thessaloniki. I was the only one born in Athens. I was born on April 18, 1938. At that time we lived close to Koumoundourou Square. On the eve of the 25th of March, the Germans came in a truck, they knocked violently on the door, they almost broke it, my mother opened and they forced us to take anything we could and board the truck. My father, who was very smart and had foresight, got a divorce from my mother, not a real one of course, so that my mother could keep the Spanish nationality that she had prior to marriage.
At night they came to arrest us, my father was not at home. We had been hiding in a house in Goudi, but because I was very little and spoke a lot, I told all the children in the neighborhood “we came here to hide because we are Jewish”. So, needless to say, the next day we returned home and my father continued looking for a place to hide in the various suburbs of Attica. That night, since there was a curfew, he stayed with an uncle of mine in Kifissia. My father was a Greek citizen, he had not changed citizenship… If we was caught it would be a disaster…Indeed all this support was offered by the Spanish embassy and there was a priest who was an incredible person from what I heard from my father. My father constantly praised him and actually, the help that he provided was beyond measure. My father was saved by a Christian family. Alexakis Spyridon helped us and risked his life and that of his wife, mother and four children. The lives of seven people were put at risk and all that to help a man they did not even know. Since then we regard them as our brothers.
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They deported us with the Spanish nationals, with the second group. The experience was truly traumatic. First, they brought us to Haidari, where we stayed for eight days. From what I heard, on 2 April we boarded trains and they took us to … after a journey that lasted about eight days they took us to Bergen Belsen. The conditions there were extremely traumatic. Each day we were obliged to go outside for the appel, so that they could count us. This took place every morning and every evening. Not even by mistake, not once did they count us correctly. They did so on purpose in order to keep us as long as possible outside in the bitter cold of winter or in the heat of summer. The situation in Bergen Belsen was very difficult because food was scarce, the cold we could not control, we were really shivering with the clothes we had… they never gave us camp clothes but we kept our own. The beds were one on top of the other. My brother was placed with the men since he was older and I stayed with my mother. They started taking us to various baths so we could bathe. But because we had heard certain rumours about what was going on in the neighbouring camps, every time we went in we thought it was the last.
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There was so much we lived through during those time. It is impossible to describe now in this limited time, but I sincerely wish to thank the Spanish people, the Spanish Embassy and of course my father’s saviour, Spyros Alexakis, the late Spyros Alexakis and Athina and their four children. When we returned, Spyros Alexakis´ mother was 104 years old and she took us to dance cretan dances. It was wonderful…