The motorcycle

In ’43 we were in Ioannina. We were staying outside the city, near the camp. My sister was little and she got sick. My mother took me and my sister and we went to an acquaintance of hers who had a cafe in Kaloutsiani and served the people in need, in order to boil some rice. She left me and my cousins ​​across the sidewalk and said, “Sit here and I’ll go across.” I wanted to go find her. Where I was going to cross, a big military motorcycle was passing and I fell at the soldier’s feet, I fell down, he hit me, but to save me he kicked me with his boots and threw me over. From there I came out with some abrasions but I escaped.

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