"Who is he?" the Father had inquired.
"We don't know" was the sharp reply. "We were asked to bring him here. All we know is he came from Crete in 1941 as part of the great retreat. No one knows if he is British or Greek, but he responds more to Greek than to
English."
The king of Greece as well as thousands of British, Australian, and New Zealand troops fled in the massive regrouping. There were also many wounded Greek soldiers and sailors. They had found this man with broken bones and burns and suffering from a concussion. Some Greek soldiers had carried him the long distance from Samaria Gorge to Agia Roumeli, the southernmost part of Crete, but no one could identify him.
The king of Greece was hiding in a cave with his government, waiting to be picked up by the British. The Germans were a short step behind; their aim was to capture the king and his government. The British ship finally arrived around two in the morning. Because of the risk of being discovered, the rescue mission had to be carried out under the cover of darkness. As the king walked toward the ship, he was asked if this man was part of his guard. The king looked at the wounded man and took pity on him. Although he did not recognize him, he nodded yes.
Thousands of men were killed or wounded when Hitler decided that no one would block his path to North Africa. It hurt his pride that a small force like those on Crete would even think about holding up his march. To this end, he organized one of the greatest airborne attacks in military history. He deployed destroyers and thousands of aircraft and elite paratroopers to invade Crete by air and sea.
One of those wounded in the attack was this unknown man. He had no identification or uniform. He remembered nothing. In vain, the authorities tried to identify him and help him recover his memory. They ran his photograph through Athens and London newspapers, but there was no response. Or was there?
Father Agathangelos was glad to have the stranger with him. Many times he thanked God because he believed the Lord had sent him a companion. He named him Theodoros, a gift from God.
The priest was in his mid-thirties. He had a handsome bearded face with dark brown eyes. His hair was curly and often the younger women in the community looked at him lustfully. At times he regretted that he had become an ordained priest before experiencing a woman. But now he resigned himself to prayer and liturgical duties, as well as taking care of this stranger.