By URIM ELEZI
Part One
Foreword
Memorie.al / Urim Elezi, born on October 18, 1941, in Floq, Korça, is among those sentenced twice by the communist regime, enduring many years of suffering. He was imprisoned on October 26, 1963, and released on February 10, 1989. He entered at the age of 22 and left at 48, moreover, blinded. At the age of 18, he completed the Instruction School in Gjirokastra, where he was promoted to non-commissioned officer. During his first sentence, he was a soldier in Unit No. 9357 in Gjirokastra. The first time, he was accused under Article 64, in combination with Articles 10 and 14 of the Penal Code. He was on military service together with his friend, Hekuran Shyti, in Gjirokastra. According to the court, he had proposed to Hekuran that they escape because life was good in capitalist countries, especially in the USA. Hekuran was discharged from the army earlier and during this time found other individuals with whom they would carry out the escape. Hekuran sent a telegram to Urim in Gjirokastra, requesting that he come because his mother was ill.
Thus, Urim joined his friends, Hekuran Shyti, Durim Shyti, and Robert Morava. Poorly oriented and betrayed by a local resident, they were captured by border forces at the Nikolica border post in the Korça district. The Tirana Military Court, by decision No. 21, dated February 27, 1964, declared him guilty and sentenced him to 18 years of imprisonment, confiscation of property, loss of electoral rights for 4 years, and stripping of his rank as a sergeant. This was upheld by decision No. 23, dated March 31, 1964, of the Military College of the Supreme Court. He was arrested for the second time on February 19, 1980. He was accused under Article 55/1 of the Penal Code with very severe articulations. The Fier Internal Affairs Department, by letter No. 112, dated January 15, 1980, requested the Prosecution Directorate to approve the arrests of three citizens, including the aforementioned Urim Elezi. He had been placed under active surveillance on May 17, 1979, for conducting propaganda among the convicts.
Informants “The Penitent” (I penduari) and “The Technician” (Tekniku) reported on him. It was said that he had expressed: “The Sigurimi has stained its hands with the blood of this people. They have committed the most hideous crimes in history; the Sigurimi has treated the people and individuals worse than the fascists and Nazis treated them…! There are none viler than the communists. I call communists all those who have a star on their forehead like a tomato, regardless of whether they believe in Marx’s beard or Stalin’s mustache…! The most monstrous crimes in Albania were committed when the communists came to power… Life here is a prison.”
The Fier District Court, presided over by Sokrat Dautaj, with the participation of prosecutor Kiço Koçi, by decision No. 94, dated April 18, 1980, declared him guilty and sentenced him to 10 years of imprisonment, as well as the loss of electoral rights for 5 years. Convinced of the futility of communist decisions, Urim Elezi did not appeal the decision. After sending a letter to Enver Hoxha, in which he described him as a “colorless monster, sick with a persecution mania,” on December 6, 1981, he was beaten by the police of Burrel Prison until he was blinded. He was released on February 10, 1989, from Unit No. 305 Përparim in the Saranda district.
Introduction
I, Urim Elezi, was born in Floq, Korça. My origins are from the Elezi family of Tropoja. I am the son of Resul Avdyl Elezi and Emine Zyfer Shahinlli. Regarding my birth date, it is not very accurate, because I have four such dates due to the “wickedness of the dictatorial system.” Specifically: July 10, 1941; October 16/18, 1941; and according to my parents, May 4, 1943. From my birth until December 4, 1961, I lived in my birth village with my two parents, five brothers: Avdyl, Festim, Myzafer, Myqerem, Bilbil, and a sister, Merjeme. As the youngest of the house, and as custom dictates, I engaged in village work such as agriculture and livestock. At the age of 18 (not actually 8 years, but 16 years), I left to serve as a soldier in Gjirokastra, at the “Instruction School.”
There, from 1961 until October 22, 1963, I took several military subjects including topography (my favorite), communications, artillery, etc. After 13 months from the start, I was promoted to non-commissioned officer, and two weeks after receiving this rank, they mobilized me along with five others and put me into the infamous “Intelligence-Counterintelligence” school (the thing I hated most). It was there, since I had a very good physical appearance, that they trained me separately from the others in wrestling, boxing, weapon use in all positions, etc.
The First Arrest: From the Attempted Escape to Prison
My father was a Bektashi muhib (devotee). When he talked with the elders of the village or his relatives, with Nuredin Dervish Elezi and others (members of Sali Butka’s band), as our houses/gardens were close, I heard about communism: “it is an ungodly system that does not believe in God.” Since then, I listened with fascination to many stories talking about fellow villagers who escaped – who fled as fast as their legs could carry them from the isolated place called Albania. In the years 1950–’51, several escaped: Muharrem Dikolli with his three sons; Muhamet Refat Hasankolli; Ramadan and Resmi Hasankolli; Hysni Dervish Hasankolli with his wife, three sons, and two daughters-in-law, and our cousin, Bedri Osman Elezi. In my family, not a day passed without communism being mentioned, especially after my eldest brother, Avdyl, forced by circumstances when he went to serve in Elbasan, became a communist (years 1948–’49).
I remember that my father forced Avdyl to marry Vlora, the sister of Hamit Floqi (a sworn enemy of communism and a nationalist, sentenced to death in Burrel Prison). In a conversation with Hamit and my brother Festim, my father said to Festim: “Tell your brother that we should all leave, like Hysni of Dervish, because if we leave and leave your brother here, they will hang him”…! This is where the family disharmony began. In the army in the years 1961–’62, nearly two years in a unit with Hekuran Shyti, after many conversations where the main theme was “life here is unbearable,” I gained his trust. One day at Vangjeli’s shop, where we soldiers bought biscuits (galeta), snacks, food, fritters, etc., while eating biscuits I said to Hekur (that’s what I called Hekuran):
“Shall we go, shall we escape?”… – immediately Hekur embraced me, kissed me, and said: – “Let’s go, but I have talked with Bexhet (a friend of his in Korça and two others, whose names I can’t remember), to leave from Korça, but we don’t know the way from there…!” “Now, shall we leave tonight from the Grehot unit, or is it better to leave when we are on maneuvers near the border?” “I say we leave when we are on maneuvers near the border.” However, as luck would have it, we didn’t find the opportunity because we were surrounded by many soldiers, officers, and NCOs, plus Hekur was in Communications and I was in the Artillery Headquarters Platoon, which also hindered us somewhat. Hekur was discharged a year before me, in 1962. A day before Hekur was discharged; we met and decided that when we mentioned the “SIGURIMI” in phone conversations, we would call it by the name of a girl, N. On October 22, ’63, Hekur called me: “Urim, girl N. is not leaving me alone, so if you can, take urgent leave and come.” Hekuran, in the name of my brother Festim, sent a telegram.
A telegram as if my mother was seriously ill with her heart in the hospital. He sent the same telegram to me and to the command. I requested leave, and on the 23rd, the unit commissar, Colonel Fitim Balili, called me to the parade ground, and after I saluted him according to military regulations, he said: – “Have you received a telegram from home?”
- “Yes, I have,” I said. “I received a telegram from my brother, stating that our mother is very ill with her heart in the hospital.”
- “Alright. When are your final exams?” – “In 20 days,” I replied, “but I don’t remember the date,” (I pretended to be upset, exactly as if something had really happened, so as not to draw attention).
The commissar gave me the leave and said: – “You have your final exams, so we are giving you 5 (five) days of leave. I believe that is enough to see your mother!” I saluted him according to military regulations and left. On October 23, I took my leave, but I couldn’t get to Korça because there were no vehicles. That night I slept in the military unit in the city of Përmet. In the unit’s room, near me, I had a Battalion officer from the Leskovik Defense. We began to talk normally like two strangers.
- “You have a unique military uniform! Which unit are you from?” he asked first. – “Gjirokastra, in the Gjirokastra Corps,” I replied curtly and grimly. – “You look upset. Are you being transferred somewhere? Forgive me, I might be wrong.” – “I’m going to Korça, I’m on leave because my mother is in critical condition. I got 5 (five) days of leave, but look, one day – today – is already wasted. I have 20 days of school left, and then I’ll be promoted to second lieutenant.” Person X (I don’t remember his name, I only know he was from the villages of Berat) said: – “My sympathies, don’t be upset! Don’t worry, tomorrow at 7:00 AM my car is coming and we will go to Leskovik together. From there, I will help you get to Korça as soon as possible.” And so it was. He was very punctual. He kept his word. At 10:00 PM on October 24, 1963, I reached Korça. The first person I met was Durim Shyti. Durim said to me explicitly: – “Urim, we have caught the scent of the Sigurimi hounds, let’s go quickly to Hekuran.” We talked with Hekuran, who told me the same thing as Durim.
- “Urim, many of my friends want to come with us, but Bexhet along with them is in great danger of being arrested any day now.” – “Let’s leave quickly Hekuran, because if they arrest them, they will give you up, and you will give us up. Do you remember the movie ‘Xhemile’ when we saw it at the summer cinema in Gjirokastra, what tortures they did to her to make her talk?!” – “Urim, I have also talked with Bilo, Bilbil, and your brother that we will escape as soon as possible.” I was deeply moved: – “Oh no, what did you just tell me Hekuran! I must go urgently to the village to meet Bilo, to warn him not to fall prey to the Sigurimi’s games.” (I reminded him of ‘Xhemile,’ how they cut off her breasts, pulled out her nails, etc.) On October 24, I slept with Durim at Durim and Hekuran’s aunt’s house. On the 25th, I went to the village, met my brother: – “Brother, I cannot stay; they are going to arrest me. Say you know nothing because it will be worse for you. Otherwise, they will kill you under torture, and besides that, you will ruin Festim and Myzafer too, because they know as well”…!
I went to meet my mother. My mother took my hands and placed them on her chest: – “My son, what has happened, why you come have, how long it has been since you were on leave? You are very troubled, my son…”?! While my sister, Merjeme, put her hands on my right shoulder and pushed me: – “No, we won’t let you leave. Tell us what has happened to you!” – They both held me so tightly that I froze in place. Almighty God gave me strength and I told them: – “Don’t hold me anymore, it’s 2:00 PM, and by 6:00 PM I must absolutely be at the unit because I am on duty.” I tore myself away from them and ran. In the cobblestone yard, the sound of my boot heels clicking could be heard…! – “Careful, slow down!”
With the words of my mother and sister, I passed the gate of the house. Is there anything more terrible than parting from your family in this way…?! As I descended into the middle of the village field, before reaching the main road, I saw my other brother, Myqerem, coming toward me on a bicycle. I prepared from afar what I would say to him: – “Brother, by 6:00 PM I must absolutely be at the unit because I am on duty.” – “Take my bicycle so you can go faster,” he told me. Even though I refused, Myqerem insisted and gave me the bicycle. I left for Korça. It began to snow with incredible flakes; it was the third sleet that had fallen.
As I had arranged with Hekuran and Durim, I arrived in Korça around 3:00 PM. We agreed that at 8:00 PM we would meet, either at the “Pekini” pastry shop or at “Kristal.” From there we would go to eat at the Hotel-Restaurant “Krimea,” and then we would continue further. At 7:30 PM, together with Durim, we left for the “Shaqir Gega” pastry shop. The weather was very bad. The snow wouldn’t stop falling in thick clumps. In the midst of that weather, a young boy about 5–6 years old appeared before me, dressed very thinly and poorly. He was shivering from the cold like a reed, holding 4–5 cones of roasted chickpeas to his chest: – “Take one, take one!” I put my hands in my pocket and all the money I had – about 15,000 lek, which at that time was three average salaries – I tucked into his chest. He began to cry, took me by the hand, and begged me to come with him to his parents.
- “I will come tomorrow, but tell your parents to dress you well, because I will come to see you.” – “Yes, yes,” with tears in his eyes, the boy left. – “You gave him a lot of money,” Durim said to me, “we should have left that money for your aunt or sister.” – “Is there any aunt or sister more in need than that child? You have money for us to eat something at Hotel-Restaurant ‘Krimea,’ don’t you…?” It was 7:45 PM. Hekuran and Robert (Hekur had notified him) were at “Kristal.” We met them and together headed for Hotel-Restaurant “Krimea.” As soon as it was 8:00 PM, we got up…!
The Escape Plan
At “Krimea,” the four of us decided that; during the Korça-Floq road, if we met anyone (because naturally there were all those villages), I would act as if I were drunk and these three would say: – “we are accompanying Urim!”… And they would gesture to show that I had been drinking. Hekuran: – “Alright, but four big guys like us, who will believe us?” I: – “Better yet, so they believe us, we will go get my bicycle, which I left at your aunt’s.” (Since with a bicycle, no one would suspect we were escaping). To get the bicycle at Durim and Hekuran’s aunt’s house, we sent Robert Morava (Berti) stealthily. After he got it, the four of us set off with the bicycle.
Before arriving in Floq, at the Stërmoi River, we left the bicycle in the middle of the road and headed upwards, through the oak grove. We reached the springs, at the grave of Bilbil Hysen Ogreni (the grave was level with the ground, but had two stones as a marker, “April 24, 1958”), who was killed by Sigurimi agents in the presence of his brother, Servet, and two sisters, Bajame and Skënderie (the eldest, as far as I remember, was not over 13 years old). From there, we continued up the Groshta. Surprisingly, as soon as we left the grove and headed up, the snow stopped. I turned my head to see my village for the last time, where here and there kerosene lamp lights were visible. At this moment, my expression fell.
The three said in unison: – “Come on, pull yourself together now, otherwise we’ll turn back.” (Hekuran shook me by my jacket at this moment). – “They won’t keep it longer than Skanderbeg did, no. We won’t stay where we’re going for more than 10–12 years.” As soon as we passed Hysen Beqiri’s walnut tree, our shoes began to fill with snow. Our toes, the more we walked, the more they felt like “ants” were crawling on them (numbness). When we reached the Bashka fields, at the end of the Red Mountain (Mali i Kuq), on the side of Kozel, we saw a light, a lighter’s flame.
“Don’t make a sound,” I told my friends; “it’s the Post Unit of three people, the winter Post patrol in Kozel. Quiet! Sounds carry far at night! Where the light is visible is called ‘The Priest’s Pass’ (Qafa e Priftit); the unit comes that far and turns back to the Post.” At the Peak of Red Mountain, at the Flag, a wind-driven snow began that made it impossible to walk. Seeing the situation, we formed a column of four. I was the first. I remember I had a three-quarter-length American jacket, into which I tucked my nose and mouth. Although we saw nothing at all, we crossed as far as Gramoz.
At 1:30 AM, we passed the Pyramid (we found this out during the Interrogation) and took the river to walk as far as we could. There, Robert couldn’t go on anymore because of his feet and was complaining: “my toes hurt so much.” I immediately tore the flannel undershirt I had under my suit shirt and gave it to Berti to cover his feet. Thus we continued walking for about 10–15 minutes, until we came out of the river. Since the wind-driven snow was increasing, we lost our way entirely. We unknowingly took the wrong path, as nothing was visible. We entered about 300 m into our own border (we learned this in Interrogation as well). It was about 10:00 AM.
The snow stopped and daylight was breaking. Suddenly, we were on our own land. Our skin crawled when I realized this. Opposite us, about 500 m in a straight line, was the Greek post. We watched the Greek soldiers walking around with dogs. We had passed close to the Greek post. At this moment, a father and son from Kamenica, Shabani and Esati (otherwise called Aska and Bezati), had spotted us; as a reward for their spying, they sought from the Party a house in the city. Esat’s father used to collect pine resin in those parts and has ruined many others. He would promise to get them out of the country and set a trap near the border. One of them was Gaqo Kaskaviqi. Esati… was the one who had gone to the Post and snitched on us…!
He, together with the post commander, two people, the border dog, and several others, whose faces we couldn’t quite distinguish but whom we heard only from the noise they made, had surrounded us. “Stop!” – the commander shouted. At that moment, I saw three people with weapons and the dog with a dark brown body and white spots on its chest. I am horrified to continue telling, because I know that my story might be read by people with heart conditions or pregnant women…! Therefore, I am not telling what happened next in those moments. I can only say this: God saved our lives! The Post commander called out to the one who had the dog: – “Noooooo, Ibrahiiim!”
At the Border Post
As soon as I opened my eyes, without knowing what had happened before, I saw myself tied with wire and rope. I couldn’t see clearly through my eyes. I couldn’t even distinguish my friends well. (I cannot determine the time), the first soldier in a fur coat entered and said: – “Which one is the soldier?” Berti, with a faint voice, half-dead: – “I am!”… In truth, it was I. As soon as Robert finished speaking, the soldier in the fur coat landed a punch on his face. He knocked him to the ground. Immediately after this gesture, a host of other officers followed him in. (The detail that one of us was a soldier had been revealed by Esati). They grabbed us like sacks and took us to separate rooms. I noticed that the one who hit Berti was missing his thumb on his right hand. He lunged at me, took the chair, and broke it over my back..! He began to curse my mother and beat me with an iron lash: – “this dog broke our chair!”…
How many times I fainted I do not remember, but I recall very well that when I was lying on the ground, I heard from the other rooms my three friends groaning, each in their own pain. Amidst the groans, I heard Hekur’s voice: – “Oh mother, oh mother”…
“Who else are you with?” – a voice asked me. “Please, don’t torture me anymore,” I told them, “kill me instead! What do you want from us?! We will sign whatever you want, but know that we have no others.” One of the fifteen brutes affirmed regarding Hekuran: – “The other one said we didn’t want to escape.” Unconsciously, I heard a groan: “… oh, oh, oh…”, and with hesitation, I thought again that it was Hekuran’s voice. – “I’ll sign that we were going to escape, just don’t torture us anymore,” I told them for the second time. / Memorie.al
To be continued in the next issue
