Demetrios Liotsis went blind in 1941. From that moment on, the conductor from Florina “sees” the world through music scores and revels in the joy of the children who sing along to his songs at the local choir.
Born in 1919 in Florina, Demetrios Liotsis joined the Greek army in 1941 to fight for the freedom of his country against the Axis Powers. On January 16, 1941, Liotsis suffered an injury during the battle of Klisoura, which cost him his vision. He was admitted to the Red Cross Hospital for some time and then returned to his hometown, where he founded a children’s choir that is still active to date.
Being an important contributor to his town’s modern cultural heritage, the 93-year-old conductor still recalls the moments of the war that marked his life, and holds on to the memories he retains before he went completely blind.
“We people of Florina got a first taste of the expansionist itinerary of the Italian fascist leader Mussolini, as we watched the Albanian officers led by their king Zog of Albania cross our town chased by the Italian troops that had invaded their country. We could all guess what was in store for us but they would not let us believe it. Our battalion was soon formed and we made our way to the borders around as Florina would hold still, covered in fog.
On the night of October 29th. the darkness surrounding us was so thick that we had to walk one behind the other, holding hands as we went, so as to not wander off and get lost in the wilderness. At some point I heard a voice calling for me. It was my brother. We said our hellos as far as our battalions’ pace would allow us and then fell into silence again.
The first battalion moves forward and I meet my brother again standing in front of our very first dead soldier. Death is a horrible thing but since it is inevitable, let us face it with honor and dignity in the battle field. Close to us scattered remains of dead soldiers were rotting. This is when reason fails you and the madness of the war takes over your mind.
With each passing day our march became harder. The rain, the snow, the cold and the mud… We had to melt the snow in our mess kits to satisfy our thirst with that smoked and awfully tasting water. The cold had grown stronger and was now unbearable to stand. One would ask what kind of a battle tactic we could follow under the given conditions. The answer is simple: follow your survival instincts.
On the Eve of Epiphany, Commander Vlachos, who had come with his platoon to replace us, told me he had a bad feeling about the next battle to come. My thoughts focused on his bad feeling and it became my own too.
January 16. We continue our difficult journey. While I was receiving the latest instructions before our sortie, one of the many mortars falling around me blows my Commander off. His cut-down body parts cover me in blood. Another mortar blasts next to me and I am unconscious. Two friendly hands are wiping my eyes. Then darkness takes me.
Lying in my bed at the mountain surgery I found some relief from the multiple wounds I suffered. But as I began to realize that I was cut off from the visible world, I looked for something that would ease my mental pain.
At the Red Cross Hospital of Athens my eyes had their last surgery, which confirmed that there was no chance for me to ever get back my vision. It is truly a heroic thing to sacrifice yourself for freedom but losing your personal independence is an unbearable destiny.”
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