14th April 2008

Sixty four years and ten days after the original operation, the British/Greek/ Australian "In the Footsteps of Heroes" team were due to land in Crete at 1320 hrs local time today 14th April 2008, to make their way to the Tsoutsouros beach at which William Stanley Moss and his party landed on 4th April 1944. They will be calling in at the former home of Micky Akoumianakis (Chief Agent in Heraklion and an original member of the abduction team) near Knossos en route to Tsoutsouros.

Technology permitting, I should receive daily updates and will post them here for those of you who have expressed an interest.

In a day or two I will also post names and bio details of those taking part together with the names of others who have helped make this trip happen.

A hectic day - although we weren't trying to parachute on Crete, it was almost as painful. Minibus arrived - seats for 6 but zero luggage space (cue furrowed brows and numerous attempts to repack the car like some giant jenga game). Rethink involved a taxi to Knossos and a substantial repack.

Suitably lightweight (although Alan is still rather smarting at the loss of his full kitbag) we set off across jumbled country eventually reaching Tsoutsorous by 1800. Much celebration and relief to get out of the vehicle. It had been a rough journey - Alan was out of the passenger's seat like a yo-yo. Mike Wright did sterling service as team driver - getting the most of the puny engine.

Our local contact turned up, and what a total god-send he is proving to be. Not only is he virtually bursting with bounding energy and enthusiasm for our quest, but he did sterling work as interpreter.

So what did we learn tonight (other than cuttlefish stewed in onions is mightily tasty)? Well, we have a good idea of the location of the German post here in the village - further east that one would have thought. We also met a local (who was brought up here) who was adamant that the right beach* was the one beyond Alyki (Agios Nickalas). This is the one that we rather discounted due to the presence of a church; and yet it seems this church is actually a cave, which may not have been obvious. The church of the Holy Apostles is in Ano Kastelliani and is still there. Our new contact said that they stayed there. A good confirmation of Paddy's account.

Tomorrow we wake at dawn. Hurried preparation of kit will be followed by a short boat trip offshore. We will have a look at both Demati and the other beach and will jump out at the most likely one. Our packs are light, save for some village wine, twice baked bread, onions and boiled eggs. The game is to get to Skinias before the blazing sun reaches its height...

We'll be sorry not to stay longer here - the sea is exceptionally calm tonight, and as I sit here there is only the faintest sound of the waves slipping over pebbles...and yet there in the distance perhaps a muffled marine engine. Or is that just an echo of another age? Anyone know morse code chaps? Pass me that torch...

* The right beach-the perennial question! For some of the debate and evidence for and against choosing various locations as 'the right beach' see main site. (Tim)

I fear that the communications are not working as well as we had hoped. In the more remote parts it seems that the team are having a job getting any signal. Last heard of on 15th April enjoying the delights of Skinias.

Latest update from us: 15 April

It is the end of an epic day - at 0800 the ropes were cast-off and our motor-launch edged gingerly out of Tsoutsorous harbour to start our recce of the possible landing beaches. Last night we met a few locals, who insisted that Agia Nikalas was the beach. Oh, what to do!

In deference to the original military records (and Tim's earlier research) we headed first to Demati beach. Two interesting responses - first, that the sea approach to the beach was in sight and wholly exposed to the German observation post in the village. Secondly, that the local skipper was not keen to go close to the beach area, as there were plenty of submerged rocks. So on, on to the other options (viz Alyki and Agias Nikalas). Rightly or wrongly, to a man we all felt that the letter seemed the best fit with Billy's description.

As we crept along the coast, the skipper told us that the area had been used for many evacuations, as the water was deep right up to the shore. Above us the multitude of recesses and caves glowered like empty eye sockets - this is truely a harsh and difficult landscape. Even Nico (the Cretan soldier who joined our team by the kind co-operation of the Greek Military Forces) described the jagged peaks above us as 'difficult'.

When we finally entered the secluded cove of Agias Nikalas, many on our boat thought it made the ideal smuggler's cove. Deep yellow and grey cliffs are fronted by an arc of sand and pebbles; to the western end larger boulders as the beach tailed away into deeper waters. The skipper's brother went forward, signaling the direction with a neat wave of his arm. Soon we grazed the bottom and, by timing our jumps, were able to leap between the waves and run up the beach. Reformed as a group, we headed up the steps to the monastery, perched high above the cliff. I. Had always discounted this beach due to the presence of this church, yet Nico* revealed that during the war it was just a cave. It is very possible that the team were not aware of it at the time.

The walk inland was tough - 25km over rough terrain made for a long day. Initially we were forced to keep to tracks, but on the occasions that we broke across open land, we were quickly mired in hidden ravines - with thorned bushes making going uncomfortable, particularly for those hardy fellows wearing shorts (John Ellis Roberts looked like he had been fighting with a cat).

We were eventually spat out of the hills at Dermati. We met an old man in the fields, and he explained that there was an old track from Agia Nikitas to Dermati, but it was overgrown. Of course that doesn't mean anything - there are also tracks to Dermati beach. At least it doesn't rule out Agia Nikitas. The jury remains firmly out.

By the time we got to Skalani, we were hot and tired. It had been a bit too much for our first day, but spirits were still high. We were shown Mihali's house (where the team stayed) and also discussed the operation with many village members. After gifts of raki and sweet Easter pies, we retired to well earned sleep...

PS - we have it on good authority that the Monastery of the Holy Apostles is at Ano Kastelliani - bought by a businessman, but still there across the fields. I am afraid limbs were too tired to allow the detour. Next time perhaps.

Found Sifoyannis cave yesterday, and the very loft they stayed in at Khorasso. Today we walk to Skalani.

Tim - update number 3

Crikey, where to start. When we left you, * we were in Skinias. We had a wonderful reception, and the village president kindly allowed us to stay in the village hall - Nikolaos Fragioudakis (from the village of Agios Thomas) did sterling work explaining why we were there, and our need for a place to stay. To say we couldn't have done this without Nico would be an understatement - he has been an absolute god-send, and has literally opened doors for us.

After packing kit, we had strong coffee and mountain tea at the taverna and set off northwards towards Kastamonitsa. The tracks from the village were delightful; tracing lazy arcs through the olive groves over a series of peaks and valleys. Here and there the concrete roads were replaced by traces of the past - flat rocks fashioned together to form long pavements, and ancient retaining walls. We enjoyed the route through Kassanos and Panagia. In the distance the peaks of the Koprokefala Mountains showed us the route to the safety of the mountains. We aimed for an obvious pass which led to Geraki. The climb up the pass was hard - the sun was high by the time we reached the foot of the slope, and we were all hot as we slogged up the slope. In Geraki we stopped at the spring on the edge of the village and slaked our thirst on the ice cold water.

After a quick lunch in the village (the most wonderful tomatoes, fresh bread and local cheese), we continued on the climb to the mountain stronghold of Kastamonitsa. Here we received a wonderful reception - Nico arranged accommodation in the village hall next to the main square. After supper a little way down the hill, we were shown the house where Paddy and Billy had set up their base - it has been modernised a little, but is still the same place. The house allows a secret route across the fields, and also offers a great view of the main entrance road to the village - we had no doubt that this was the right place.

We learned a great deal today - not only the likely route across the lowlands and the pass to the higher ground, but Paddy and Billy's location in the village, and the names of many of the local Cretans who helped and supported them. We were particularly enthralled to hear from those who had brought food and messages to Siphoyannis' sheepfold, and we were incredibly excited by the prospect of meeting Siphoyannis' grandson and finding the cave high above Kastamonitsa (where Billy and the others waited until Paddy returned from his recce).

We all slept well, warmed through from the raki we had drunk with the local farmers. The phrase "Yammas" was becoming so very familiar; as was the taste of the raki. Already we were rating each demijohn. I can assure readers that the raki in Kastamonitsa is among the very best (particularly Mr. Manoli's special brew) - but more of that tomorrow, as we begin the climb up those shattered mountains above us.

Chris

Tim, here is update no 4:

After breakfast of bread, jam and cheese in the taverna where we ate the previous night, we walked back up the hill to the main square. We were greeted by Manoli, who had agreed to take us to the cave the team had used back in 1944.

We piled into the back of the pick-up truck - perhaps cheating a little, but it would have taken all day to climb the steep cliffs above the village. The military road, which climbs upwards from the western side of the village, offers a fairly quick route to the sheepfolds that lie on the plateau above the visible peaks. En route, Manoli stopped to show us the view across to the village of Littos and the remains of the Roman aqueduct.

We left the vehicle and set off down a ravine, Manoli in front darting gracefully from rock to rock with incredible agility. Every now and then he would look back and grin at us - although it had been over 30 years since he had been here, he remembered the route well. With a flower behind his ear and a gleam in his eye, it was clear he was enjoying himself.

The first stop was at a lookout that Manoli said had been permanently staffed during those times. This flat area next to an isolated tree had all round visibility, and close at hand was a large mitato where the team had stayed. Above the lintel was carved the date 1943 - Manoli said it had been carved by Paddy himself!

After looking around the roofless shell, we continued down the slope; descending into the darkness through tangled ilex trunks. Each step sent a shower of rocks tumbling down the hill; the slope was carpeted with a layer of acorns, like walking on marbles. We stopped at an outcrop facing the slope down which we had just come - Manoli pointed at a spot a little way down from the peak. Although hidden by trees, he said there was a small cave where the radio was sometimes kept. There were a number of locations in the area where the radio was kept - making it more difficult for the Germans to locate the transmissions.

We continued around the slope, up and down ravines and over shattered rock. Alun had a very close shave at one point, when a handy branch broke off in his hand and he very fell down the slope. We finally broke out of the woods to a flat area with a view down a deep valley. A jumbled pile of stones was Siphoyannis' mitato - where the team had posed with their guns. Close by was a flat rock - the view behind and down the valley was exactly the same as in the famous photograph of Billy Moss with the two Russians.**

A little further up the slope was the cave where Billy, George and Manolis Paterakis had waited (while Paddy went to Heraklion). Totally hidden under a dark canopy of trees, there was also a flat terrace nearby, under a rock overhang. It was here that the others had slept. We were all rather excited - this was our second definite location for the team, and our first cave.

With a spring in our step, we followed Manolis on a difficult route on up the slope, eventually breaking out near to another Mitato on the upper slopes. They had cooked a feast - sardines and twice-baked bread. With a few cries of "Yammas", we toasted the bravery of the Cretans who had helped the team back in 1944, our guide Manolis and the bravery of the people of Kastamonitsa. We were then joined by the grandson of Siphoyannis (also called Siphoyannis) who brought two large wicker baskets filled with fresh, white cheese. It was so fresh, it was still warm! As we sat on top of the hill in glorious sunshine, I decided to call Paddy. He was enthralled to hear where we were, and had a long conversation with Siphoyannis. It was with heavy hearts that we shook hands with these fine mountain men and headed back to the village. The sun was already beginning to set, and we had a long walk ahead of us to arrive in the village of Kharasso. With gifts of olive oil and raki stuffed in our rucksacks, we thanked our kind hosts and set off down the track to the next village!

The results so far - well, we have found the house the team stayed in at Kastamonitsa, the location of the German hospital/rest-home, Siphoyannis' cave and various radio locations. Time has passed slowly here, and we were sorry to leave.

Dear Tim - we are on our rest day based in Knossos area. A chance to wash kit and recover (and catch up on reports/notes).

Update no 5 - to Kharasso!

Our raki-fuelled trek from Kastamonitsa was in danger of becoming an epic - it was nearly 4pm when we finally left the village, and there was some grumbling about the route to Kharasso (and our ability to cover the ground before darkness).

We followed dusty tracks heading northwards out of Kastamonitsa, before taking the plunge and heading through the olive groves in search of a suitable route. The farm tracks we were following were not ideal - often changing direction gradually (slowly pulling us in the wrong direction) or even just ending in the most difficult places. But enough of our challenges and back to the route.

I have to say that I was a little worried when one and a half hours later we were still only above the village of Aski. The jumbled contours in the area, combined with terraces, fences and sensitive crops, made movement difficult. The sun was already dropping from the sky, and Nico was rightly concerned at the prospect of arriving in the next village after dark.

We decided to make for the next village and then to assess our position. Above Kato Karouzana we decided to descend and send the team back to pick up the minibus. A friendly taverna owner organised taxis, although we were all disappointed to have slipped from our schedule.

We arrived in Kharasso in two contingents - the first included Nico, and he wasted no time in contacting the village president, organising food and accommodation. The second contingent had barely arrived in the village when the president whisked us off to his brother's house, a little way up the slope. He explained that Paddy and Billy (and some others) had stayed in the small upstairs room, the design of the houses allowing quick escape through the small window and across the roof. They explained that a British radio operator (codename Alexis)*** had stayed in the house for 8 months.

We arranged to meet the same family the following day, and headed off for supper and an early night in the village hall. In the morning, we were treated to coffee and food at the same house - we are truely thankful for the hospitality shown to us throughout our travels. There we met George Pahiadakis, now aged 92, who had been the original guide from Kharasso to Skalani. He explained that the original team had stopped at a spring on the edge of the village. Paddy sent messengers to find George, but he always stayed by a big rock outside the village, and only his father knew where he stayed. His father came to find him, and he was afraid. Luckily someone recognised one of the party, and they met the team and brought them into the village.

George said that the team was 32 strong by the time they got to Kharasso, and they had to spread them between two houses. They sent the radio away to a nearby cave, and Paddy, Billy, George and Manolis climbed the ladder to the upstairs room. In the morning, Paddy asked George to go to the next village to find the a shepherd called Leftaris, and to get a lamb to feed the party. They stayed inside all day, and Paddy asked George to show one of the party the route to the village of Episkopi. Before nightfall a man called Dimitris came from the village of Episkopi, and started to lead the team westwards.

We too had to move to Skalani - we were led up the hill and out of the village, stopping on the way to see George's medals and his Force 133 (SOE) identity card. On then to Skalani to find the cave and farm of Pavlo Zographistos. We followed the village tracks westwards towards Episkopi, ahead of us the snow-covered slopes of Mt Ida showing our eventual route across the island...

To recap, we have now located the houses where the team stayed, and the man who guided them on the next section to Skalani - a good day's work that was only possible through Nico siga siga approach. Thanks Nico!

*** Aleko was the name given to Xan Fielding, this Aleko is believed to be O mikros Aleko (Little Aleko), Cpl, (later Sgt-Maj) Alec Tarves MM ,also known as 'The Tinker' according to George Psychoundakis.

Tim - virtually up to date. Here is the section from Kharasso to Skalani

After our wonderful send off from Kharasso, we skirted the village of Galifa and eventually arrived in the village of Episkopi. We took the opportunity to stop and take stock. John Ellis Roberts took the chance to grab a quick haircut (the poor girl looked rather shocked when presented with this wild man fresh from the hills). After a cold drink, we bought our usual fare of bread and cheese and headed down the hill out of the village for lunch in the shelter of a small church.

It has been an incredibly windy day, and we had all feared that the weather was finally breaking (judging by the dark clouds as we left Kharasso). We had all packed wet weather gear, as it looked so gloomy. However, Nico assured us that provided the wind kept blowing there was no chance of rain. Mind you, the swirling winds made our lunch break rather uncomfortable and we were all happy to move on.

We reached the village of Aitania, perched high on a natural ridge overlooking the valley to the west, and a deep gorge. We stopped and Nico did sterling work talking to an old woman to try an discover any local knowledge. She recognised the name of Zographistos, and took us around the side of her house to point the route to the farm. She said she wasn't certain, but thought that the Zographistos farm was near to the second bridge we could see below us.

We cracked on at a fair pace, descending into the valley and breaking off the road into open country. We first tried asking at a garage, but the mechanics hadn't heard of the name. In fact, Nico wasn't certain that they were from the area. They did give us a useful lead though, an old man who lived a few fields away. We bounded along, keen to talk to someone who knew the area well.

The man was eating when we arrived, and was slightly surprised by the size of our group surrounding his smallholding. Nico did his best - the man had lived in the area all his life, but had never heard of the family, the farm or any cave. Deflated, we sloped away. He called goodbye in German as we walked up his track, whereupon Jonathan and I explained we were British/Australian. Aha - the lock opened. Suddenly he remembered the family (although we had pronounced it wrongly) and knew the location of Pavlo's house and the cave with the wine press. Bingo!

The caves (in fact there are two) are located on the hill above the garage. The larger cave is about 12ft square, and is walled at the front with a door. It would have been essential to stay inside during the day, as the slope is wholly exposed to people watching from Aitania. Following the road, it skirts the edge of the deep ravine - before the bridge, a fine ruined farmhouse sits abandoned in an olive grove. It is well apart from other houses, and is bounded on one side by the deep ravine. It is a sad shell, but the well dressed yellow stone shows the house must have been impressive in its time (even if only 2 rooms).

A short trudge up the road and we were in Skalani itself, where we were to spend the night.

So a quick update - we found the route from Kharasso (as the original team were guided), the cave with the grape press where the andartes hid the night before the operation, and Pavlo's house. A good day's hunting! Tomorrow the walk to the abduction point, and then across the island!

Today, Sunday morning at 09:30 he went to Archanes and carried 3 members of the team. They passed from Heraclion for Mrs Cooper and they went to Drosia (known with the old Turkish name of Yeni Gave). From there, he and Mike driving the minibus, went to Anogia. They left the minibus and continued with Nick’s car again to Drosia where the others had been waiting. After a couple of rakis, they left, and the team reached Anogia at 17:30.

Dear Tim

Update no 7 below - things going very well in the team (other than Jonathan's boots succumbing to the harsh terrain - more soon)

From Skalani to the Abduction Point.

Today was supposed to be a rest day, but being adventurous sorts we decided to use the afternoon to complete the short walk from Skalani to the junction of the Archanes road. This was also a useful test-run for our most recent participant - Artemis Cooper.

We started by spending some time exploring the ruined farmhouse on the edge of Skalani, and the gorge that runs along the edge of the property. Artemis agreed that it was virtually certain that this was the place. We then crossed the road near to the old stone bridge, and cut a new track up the slope. We passed through old olive groves, before carefully edging along past the vines (Nico was careful to ensure that we didn't damage the next crop). Once we gained the ridge, we headed southwards towards the abduction point. We were all rather surprised to find a road whizzing across out path. Eventually we popped out of the olive groves directly above the abduction.

So what did we learn? Well, we think it would take at least 30 minutes to get to Point A, longer perhaps if the fields were particularly difficult. We also learnt that walking in the heat is pretty tough, and we were thankful for the frequent rest-stops.

As the sun began to set on Knossos, we decided that we had achieved a great deal on the walk-in. Tomorrow we start tracing the route followed after the General was captured. More later...

I am a few days behind, so here goes with an attempt to catch-up.

To the stronghold of Anogia!

We set off quite early from Archanes (which had been the location of our rest day). Because of the logistical problems with the size of our minibus, Nico Troulakis had kindly agreed to help move the team to Yeni Gave (now Drosia) and bring our driver back to walk with us. If that wasn't enough, he also agreed to help us pick up our latest team member, Artemis Cooper. It would have been extremely difficult to achieve this without his involvement, so a sincere thank you.

We followed the path of the original team as best we could, leaving through the West Gate and following the sinuous route of the old road. This is a long route, which left us in no doubt as to Billy's skill in piloting the car to the eventual destination of Yeni Gave.

We alighted at Yeni Gave (now Drosia) and after asking around picked a logical route southwards towards Anogia. The walking was enjoyable - following a track for most of the way. In deference to the original team, we did travel cross-country for a short section. The going was difficult, and we were glad to pick up another track over the ridgeline.

It took us nearly 4 hours to cover the distance, which made Paddy's night march cross-country all the more impressive. After a cold lemonade in the main square, we began planning the next day - Anogia to the cave hideout in the foothills of Mt Ida.

So what did we discover - well, we were all surprised by the distance the team traveled by car. We also had increased respect for the terrain and the ability to move with speed across the landscape.

Dear Tim

Here is our report - from Anogia to Mt Ida!

We had a slow start to the day, which was no bad thing (a few stiff legs from the first part of the journey). Through Nicos' contacts we had tracked down a man who had been part of the original andarte team supporting the Kreipe operation. Spahis Vasilios was part of the band under Kapetan Petrakogeorgis. It was fascinating to see his photographs (one showing 2 team members sporting Bren guns) and hear his recollections.

He told us that the team had traveled to a point near a spring - there is now a church there, but the team had stayed in caves all around the hillside. The caves were not deep, but he said that the weather wasn't bad and they could sleep under the stars. He looked at our photos of the abduction, and recalled that the famous snap of Petrakogeorgis was taken during a heated discussion with Paddy about whether the team could travel over Ida and not find any Germans.

We could have stayed and listened to his all day, but alas Mt Ida loomed high above us. We had to move on.

We headed due south out of the village, following a clear track that snaked up the escarpment and into the hills. To keep on line, we broke out across the landscape, working on a bearing to bring us out at the caves in the Ebriskos area (not far from the observatory near to Nida). It was a long day, the wind howling around the trees, but eventually we emerged at the correct spot, near to a spring. The ice-cold water was pure luxury, and we made ourselves as comfortable as we could, although the clouds settling on the slopes of Ida suggested tomorrow could be difficult.

With a camp fire swirling sparks high into the night, we sat and drank village wine. As the sun dipped behind Ida, we all felt that it had been a good day. Tomorrow we cross the snow-covered peak of Ida!

Just found sheepfold above Patsos. Still there! Shown it by George Pattakos, who was a guide. Incredible!

Dear Tim, here is our update. Over Mt Ida and down the southern slopes.

We had a terrible night - the wind grew in strength in the early hours, and we were all pretty sandblasted by the time dawn came. Everyone looked a little tired, and after a quick breakfast we set off towards Nida. It took about 40 mins to reach the base of the mountain, and we then set off up a natural ravine to the first col. We then picked a route to take us towards the track that leads down the southern face. We avoided the worst of the snow patches, and after passing mitato after mitato we emerged on the upper slopes with views far down the Amari valley.

Route finding was difficult - we sheltered in a ruined mitato for lunch, before pushing on down the slope. While we only had to climb 800m from Nida, we had to drop nearly 1800m to get to out final destination of Agia Paraskevi. Each step was difficult - the terrain changing from sharp blades of rock, tumbled scree and deep layers of acorns and leaves. We fought our way down the worst the mountain could throw at us - sending scouts ahead to seek the best paths. We eventually tumbled out of a ravine near Nithavaris, our thighs burning from the descent.

After a rapid lemonade in Apodolou, we enjoyed the final walk through the olive groves outside the village of Agia Paraskevi. We assembled outside the Taverna, trying our best to forget the hellish descent. Here we met Stilionos Giosofakis - he had been a boy at the time, and remembered hundreds of Germans spread through the village searching for Kreipe. He showed us the river bed where the team had hidden - in the village the gossip was that they "had brought the bride".

We slept well after our 30km ride across Ida. As Alun said, we had soft concrete. Thanks to Nicos for helping us get down safely, and for settling us into the village so quickly.

En route - we travel up the Amari!

We stopped to look at the haunting Byzantine paintings before we left the village of Agia Paraskevi.

Once on the road, our destination was Gerakari - high above us along the lotus land of the Amari. We stopped at the old bridge and mill at the foot of the escarpment (this is the place mentioned in the Cretan Runner). We took a daring route up a series of terraces and tracks, switchbacking under a canopy of trees. We eventually met the road high above, and once out of the trees we were presented with an incredible view northwards across to the village of Fourfouras, with the striated slopes of Ida providing a breathtaking backdrop.

Our first stop was at Ano Meros, where we met Nicos commanding officer (Maj. Nick) who had very kindly traveled out from Malame to meet us. We were honoured to be presented with a regimental shield, and embroidered caps - in turn we presented Maj. Nick with a boxed edition of 'Ill Met By Moonlight' - signed by each of our team and with a copy of Paddy's letter inside. We had a few photographs outside, and then we had to be on our way.

It was a long slog up the hill to Gerakari - each village memorial providing a sobering reminder of the human impact of the war on Crete. The Germans arrived in numbers on 22 August 1944 and wreaked their terrible revenge. In a few days the Amari villages were ablaze and many lay dead. We placed a wreath at each memorial, in memory of those who paid the ultimate price.

The cherries were not yet ripe in the Amari, but we received a warm welcome in Gerakari nevertheless. We met Koustantinos Kokonas, who had been 13 years old at the time. He had been given notes to carry between villages. The team had been taken to Kineospilios first, but it had been too near the village. Within a few hours they had been moved further up the slope to a place called Hainospilios.

We had a good supper, then retired for an early night. Tomorrow we travel to Fotinos via Patsos!

To Fotinos via Patsos

An early start from Gerakari. After a hearty breakfast we set off out of the town towards Patsos. We picked up the old track over the mountains, descending from the heights along washed-out and rutted trails. The views across the valley were incredible, but by the time we reached the square in Patsos we were hot and tired.

We were incredibly fortunate to chance upon Georgios Pattakos, who had been part of the group that hid the original team in a sheepfold above the village. Now 86, he had full recollection of those days, and offered to show the sheepfold to us. We scrambled in the back of his son's van for the short (but bumpy) ride up the tracks leading out of the village - after Georgios hacked the brambles out of the way, we pushed through the remaining branches to see the sheepfold, virtually unchanged even after the intervening 64 years. He showed us where they had slept, where Billy had bathed, and where they had sat in the open. As we sat under the cliff overhang listening to Georgios singing about the invasion and the resistance, we felt very close to Paddy, Billy and the others.

After a quick lunch, we headed down the track to our next destination - Fotinos. It was a long walk on hot tarmac, and we were all glad to hit the main road before beginning the slow ascent to the village. As we threaded our way through the olive groves in the deep valley to the south of the village, we were spotted by John Andre from his vantage point on one of the distinctive conical hills around the village.

It was with sore and tired feet that we walked the final hundred metres on the sandy track and arrived in the main square. It was late and we needed accommodation, food and water - and as before the true Cretan hospitality never deserted us.

More soon!

From Fotinos to Velondredo

The last update left us on the edge of Fotinos as light was falling. As we congregated in the main square, we were very lucky to meet Stavros Perros - the grandson of the man who had hid the original abduction team near to the village back in 1944.

He showed us the area on the edge of the village, where the General had been hidden. He introduced us to his aunt Despina, who had personally taken food and water to the General (she was 18 at the time). She remembered the General as being very quiet, and resigned to his fate - he must have been exhausted after the long marches from Drosia.

Despina remembered Paddy fondly - she said that he had been in the village quite often, and was to be the best-man at her wedding. Unfortunately he was unable to come to the wedding, but she asked to be remembered to him.

While we were drinking coffee with Despina, Stavros had been busy. A runner came to say we should follow him to Stavros' house - where he had laid out an incredible feast of pork steaks, lamb chops, chips and salad. His home-made wine was first rate, and we enjoyed hearing about his time in Canada (his English was excellent, which gave Nico a break) and more stories about the village. All was well until Alun uttered the immortal words "do you make your own Raki?" - the rest of the evening is a little hazy!

We had an early start, but Despina had kindly made a great breakfast spread, with excellent coffee. She told us more about the Kreipe operation, and revealed that the abduction team had gone to Koumi, and then cut across country to Velondredo. She also remembered that a radio had been kept in a cave high above the village, operated by a man called Pavlo. All fascinating stuff!

We left in high spirits, Stavro showing us the correct path with Despina waving us off. The track cut a sinuous path through the rocky terrain, our slow progress being heralded by a euphony of bells as we drove the village flock virtually the whole way to Koumi!

We had intended to ask the way, but it seems as if the path is not clear. As one local farmer, the paths "are like mushrooms" - they appear and disappear over the years. We ended up on the path that heads south to the village of Paleoloutra, instead of south-west. Rather intrepidly (and in retrospect quite foolishly) we abandoned the track and headed cross-country to try and find a suitable route. What followed was a fine example of how not to navigate in this rugged terrain - at each rise we were presented with an enticing track in the distance, yet each track in turn tailed out into dense trees. At one point we were forced to climb high boulders just to progress.

After 2 hours of truely horrible route finding, we descended a steep hill to a well travelled north-south track. Our luck was in, as we soon chanced upon a sheep farmer who was rounding up his flock. He was amused to hear that we had dropped out the hills - his view was that it was "impossible". He was absolutely correct, save for some mad fools.

His father, George Spontidakis, was with him in the field, and we were delighted to meet him. His dark eyes sparkled when he revealed that he had been part of the andarte band who had waited at a point known as Nifis Polamia, and taken the group from there to Velondredo. It was incredible to be put on the right path by one of the original team members.

We arrived in Velondredo after a hot slog uphill. Our arrival was met with multiple fireworks - the local children excited at the Easter celebrations. We found the village rather quiet at first, but Nico explained that this was normal for Holy Friday.

After supper, we crept into the back of the church to hear the wonderful singing - the women and men taking turns to sing. The whole village was crammed into the compact space, and the multitude of candles and haze of incense made for a heady atmosphere. It was incredible to think Paddy had baptized his god-daughter at this very spot - I suspect the service would have been very familiar to him.

Later that evening, we followed the bier procession around the village, each of us being given the great honour of carrying the Epitafios for a short section around the twisting lanes of the village. It was a magical experience, and more than ever we felt ashamed at forcing Nicos away from his family during this period.

While following the bier back to the church, we met the two grandaughters of the Loukakis brothers (who had given such help to Paddy and the British forces during the war). We arranged to meet the family in the morning. After a final duck under the Epitafios (Nico said it would bring us luck), we headed off to bed, each of us clutching a handful of the flower petals that had fallen from the bier during the procession.

Tomorrow we climb our last mountain...

Velondredo to Rodakino (via Alones)

As promised, we met the Loukoyeorgakis family before heading on our way. They were incredibly generous and laid out a great spread of bread, cheese, honey, roast lamb and goat, all washed down with very fine wine. In fact the breakfast was so good that some of our group doubted the ability to stand, let alone make any progress uphill.

We were enthralled to see the multitude of awards and certificates given to the family for their work during the war, and in turn they were very interested to see Paddy's maps and our collection of photographs.

Manolis, who had been 10 years old at the time, had worked tirelessly as a runner - taking the food cooked by his mother to the abduction team. The team were holed up in a small cave on the left hand side of the gorge near to the village. As the river was high, it wasn't possible to get to the cave at the moment, but they reassured us that it was still there!

We were sorry to have to leave, but the road called. The family put us on the old path to Alones, which saved us a long slog on tarmac. As we climbed the slope opposite the village, we had great views of the village framed by the mountains and gorges behind. As we passed close to beehives, Nico told us to take care - apparently bees don't like the smell of meat. After our incredible breakfast, we had to hurry past!

Alones was rather quiet, and it took a few shouts from Nico before the taverna was opened - we treated ourselves to a quick Frappe before the big climb. While in Alones, we looked at the tiny church which lies just off the main road. Sadly, we were unable to find anyone with recollection of the resistance work in the village - this was a real shame as Paddy recalls both Velonandredo and Alones with great affection. Perhaps next time.

We had put off the final ascent as much as we could. It was time to cross the skyline, and to find the beach. Back in 1944 the abduction team had split into two groups, taking different routes and meeting up on a bluff overlooking the beach. We decided to follow the more direct route, although the initial path was difficult to find (we found ourselves on the wrong side of a few fences now and again).

Once we had established a steady pace, we gained height quite rapidly. The view down to Alones and Velonandredo was impressive, but the aggressive landscape forced us to keep our eyes on the path. The rocks here are particularly brutal; limestone weathered into unforgiving knife edges, sabres and scythes. One trip would have had dire consequences.

At last we hit the skyline - a view of both the north and south coast, and there stretched below us the wide arc of Plakias. We followed the ridgeline west, our scouts scattered to obvious cols to seek a route down. Eventually we found one - and there far below was Koraka beach, just below Rodakino. As if in celebration, the heavens opened, and our near-vertical path south became even more slippery and difficult.

Onto the beach, dear friends...

The penultimate update had us perched rather uncomfortably on the peaks overlooking Rodakino and the southern coast. The descent was slow and hard fought, but eventually our path became less steep. The rain and driving wind dogged our every step, and for the first time on our expedition we were forced to break-out the wet weather gear. A rough road now links the lower slopes, and this gave us a semblance of direction downhill - but far below the notch of Koraka beach beckoned us onwards.

Of course, we cannot be wholly certain about the route followed by the team, or where they met overlooking the beach. We descended the easterly spur, and we couldn't see the beach until we were virtually upon it. We dropped down through valleys thick with oleander, before threading our way down steep olive groves to skirt the village of Rodakino. It is likely that the team followed a similar route, and would have experienced the tough descent from the relentless mountains that shadow the shoreline.

The final few kilometres were taken at a slow pace, with much joking and laughter. I think we were all sad that our adventure had to end. But all good expeditions have to have a conclusion, and ours was on the narrow cove at the far eastern end of Koraka beach - where Paddy, Billy, the General and the others departed on a dark night back in 1944. As we stood on the pebble berm, with the drag of the surf beneath us, we all felt very close to the abduction team and the events of 1944. There was time for a few group photographs, but all too soon we had to say our goodbyes to Nico and head home.

The aims of our expedition were two-fold - not only to map a definitive route and find the caves, sheepfolds and hideouts used by the original abduction team, but also to remember the heroism and sacrifice of the Cretan families who supported them in those dark times. It was a great honour to pass in the footsteps of those heroes, and to hear the memories of the survivors of those who took part and supported the team. More than anything we witnessed true Cretan hospitality, and we were touched by the kindness and generosity afforded to our wild band of adventurers.

It is impossible to name everyone who helped make our expedition so special, but we would particularly like to thank Lt.Col T. Kitsos and all at the Greek Embassy, Major Nikos Kostakis, WO Nick Troulakis and of course our trusty companion MSG Nikolaos Fragioudakis, without whom our expedition would not have been possible. A fuller report, pictures and maps will follow soon