Abandon hope all ye enter here!

There was fire and lightning and a booming voice echoed through the halls of my training camp: “You are being transferred to Mitilini, as a machine gunner!”. Say again?

I was hearing this from my Captain and I couldn’t believe my ears: Mitilini was a place I never thought of going as a soldier? A mean, an island opposite Turkey, very far from Trikala or Thessaloniki where I live, very difficult to leave and go (I thought back then) and as a machine gunner as well? What did I ever have to do with machine guns; I didn’t even seem like being able to carry one!

I traveled there via ship, through Athens, where I met my friend Achilleas, who was joining the same military unit. He was in Mitilini as a student and he kept telling me that the unit was close to the city, that it was great to be there and etc. Plus, a friend of mine, Synthia, studied there. The prospects seemed ideal. How wrong were we…

Once there, I had a lukewarm feeling: The command center looked a bit old, the whole camp was build upon a hill and there was a lot of shouting and cursing. When they took us to our barracks, things got worse: It was a VERY old building and the soldiers inside looked as if they escaped from Prison Break. Kretans were talking with so heavy accent, I needed subtitles to understand them. Cursing and yelling again. Suspicious looks.

I had to take a leak, so I found my way to the toilets. Joseph Conrad would be proud, because this was indeed the “Heart of Darkness”: The horror, the horror! There was no pavement, only mud and dirt around it. The smell was reaching from a far distance. The inside was not better: Water leaking from somewhere, there was no hot water and the toilets were nothing more than holes in the ground. I tell you now: Very. Normal. Stuff. But back then, I was disappointed, to put it mildly.

And not about the hygiene thing. Every commanding officer seemed to be angry, stressed and mad at you, for no reason. The other guys who were already there looked weary, tired and wasted. Fortunately, I was going out for a week, in order to get used to the new unit. I confess now, I was returning each night crying and not believing my bad luck.

This very camp is considered to be one of the hardest in Greece, I shit you not. The Commander was formerly training reserve officers and he was tough as a rock. A man fulfilling every military cliché, barking orders and punishing every little misdeed. The commanding officers tried to keep up with him and keep him pleased, so they did the same. It was a big chaos.

With time, I got used to it. I met wonderful people there, good friends. I got tougher, at least what the Army concerns. I got used to the countless training sessions, the exercises, the war scenarios, the constant running under someone’s orders. The night shift under -5 degrees, 3-6 AM. And, yes, I had no problem with the machine guns.

In fact, I grew to like them. My trainer, Mr. Makris, was a great officer and even better guy. An old war hound, a guy who loved the art of war, but not military horny. He tried to make you appreciate the army but not force his opinion on you. We found an understanding during my time there, which needed time, but close to the end it was great. I was trained to use the MG3 and the Browning 50mm, both great weapons. I got the chance to step into a VBL reckon vehicle and be part of the scout platoon, with the mission to do reckon and offer anti-aircraft protection. I got to shout targets 1500m far, cutting stones from a mountain with my bullets. I shot an air target, with over 200 bullets. Let me tell you, I realized why people who own weapons, feel so powerful.

This was my second transfer, the first considered to be the training centre. 90%, all the second transfers are like this: Very tough officers, average to bad facilities, hard training and all these in order to expand your limits and be ready for war situations. You didn’t expect that people will talk nice to you, while bullets fly next to your head? But all the difficult stuff will bond you with your fellow soldiers; besides you are in the same situation, aren’t you? There is the positive aspect of such units having near 100% operational readiness, which means you get to do your shift for one day and the next one you have a day-off.

It was tough, especially at the beginning. I didn’t thought I could last there, but I did and this made me proud of myself. I even felt sad when the time came for me to leave for my third transfer. But this is a story for another time… What will follow is the story of how I got to be a corporal, so stay tuned!

P.S. : It wasn't all torture and misshaps. There were great moments, especially after a couple of months. What we really like with the guys was spoofing the whole Army thing, shooting videos and immitating our commander. Watch the following video, courtesy of my friend Artemis Damigos (he's the guy polishing my boots!)