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When my father was born in Constantinople around 1880, Greece was at war with Turkey. Like many other young Greeks, my father Christoforos went to the Greek consulate in Constantinople and volunteered to fight on the side of Greece. My father hadn’t told anyone at home that he was going to war. His mother was crying while preparing his clothes and asked him, ‘What do you need them for, my son, where are you going to go?’ He finally went and fought, and had a very difficult time. He left behind a diary for the days of 1897 [1].
The war ended with the defeat of the Greeks and because he could not return to Constantinople, he went to Egypt where one of his brothers, who was a pharmacist, lived. The war of 1897 became known as ‘the unlucky war.’ While my father was a soldier he kept a diary, and everyone knew him as ‘pen pusher.’ Except for Greek my father also knew Arabic and French perfectly. My father was a quiet and gentle man.
The war ended with the defeat of the Greeks and because he could not return to Constantinople, he went to Egypt where one of his brothers, who was a pharmacist, lived. The war of 1897 became known as ‘the unlucky war.’ While my father was a soldier he kept a diary, and everyone knew him as ‘pen pusher.’ Except for Greek my father also knew Arabic and French perfectly. My father was a quiet and gentle man.
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Interview
Eugenia Abravenel