SKI-preo wrote:Lordo wrote:i have a question. did it not occur to any of you that perhaps the tcs will not be so hot on the idea of enosis and that it was bound to split the country. was it really that far fetched. did you boys think the tcs would just wake up one day and say oh alright then you win.
Most people probably never thought any more of the Turkish Cypriots than a small minority who mostly came about by jumping ship to avoid paying jizyah tax and to score all the cushy jobs in the public service.
I will answer Lordos question based on my views in 1955 which do not necessarily concur with my current views.
The Christian Greek Cypriots being the overwhelming majority in Cyprus representing 80% of the population, with a history stretching back more than 3 thousand years of Greek influence, considered the less than 100, 000 Turkish Cypriots representing a minority of 18% as any other majority would in any other nation on the planet, including Turkey with a 20% Kurdish minority. The island was considered as Greek, the T/Cs were seen as remnants of a previous conqueror. Perfectly understandable at the time.
Easter week in 1956 was a very busy time for my father, being the only tailor in the village. We had no electricity in the village way back then, my father used a "LUX" or LOUX for light and to allow him to work late into the night making suits and trousers for the locals, the custom was then that on Easter Sunday men would wear new suits.
I was fast asleep, shared a bed with my younger brother when I was rudely awakened by a commotion, and shouting coming from my fathers workshop next to our house. I jumped out of bed and rushed out coming face to face with half a dozen British soldiers beating the shit out of my father and screaming at him. They were drunk.
I overcame with fear and rushed at the soldiers sticking my teeth in a soldiers leg, A vicious kick in the face accompanied by a few punches quickly put an end to my efforts to help my father .
who was on the ground being kicked. My efforts however distracted the drunk soldiers allowing my father to get off the ground and plead with the soldiers to leave me alone. He spoke a little English, calling out "my son only 10 years old" . My main concern was that they would enter the house where my 8 year old brother and 12 year old sister were asleep.
The soldiers left but not before one of them twisting my ear and smacking my face.
Went back to sleep not believing that the cruelty of these English soldiers was so distinctly opposite to what I had experienced back in the orphanage. I was badly bruised but not as bad as my father was.
The following morning we had a visit from the British camp in the village. My self and my father accompanied the soldiers who knew my father well ,back to the base, he was the tailor for the base.
An officer examined my bruises, and I could tell that he was visibly concerned, he stroked my head and I could make out that he was being apologetic. Two soldiers approached and gave me a bag each, the bag was full of chocolates and assorted sweets, boy was I happy, my father was given some money and off we went back home less than half a kilometre away.
My joy at having so many sweets and chocolates was beyond description, in fact I couldn't wait for the next..... beating !!!