Al-Khair Foundation is helping the hundreds of thousands of refugees as they make their way from conflict zones to safety. Our Communications Officer, Samantha Ryder is in Lesvos with our partner ‘The Village of Altogether.’ She reports on the trauma of conflict and how refugees are helping each other cope with their loss.

General Maximus, named after one of his film heroes, is a former Iraqi Special Forces Captain, and at just 31 years old, one of the youngest. We are sitting in the kitchen area of the PIKPA refugee camp near the airport in Mytilene, Lesvos. PIKPA a former holiday camp for Greek children is being run by an organisation called ‘The Village of Altogether’, one of Al-Khair Foundation’s partners here in Greece. The camp is quite busy and many of the refugees are disabled. Volunteer Mikales Aivalotis tells me that refugees with disabilities, or those who are pregnant are brought to them because they have facilities that can accommodate.

Maximus keeps a crutch next to him, a necessity to help him cope with the three bullets that shattered his right leg.

“This is one of my bodyguards,??? he says as he shows me photos on his mobile phone. “I had sixteen bodyguards for my job. If I go to the market, I go on my own, but for my job, always with the bodyguards.???

Then he shows me some videos. He loves animals and shows me video of him rolling around on the floor with a tiger. It was his tiger at his home in Baghdad. I assume he is telling me the truth when I see him playfully put his arm in the tiger’s mouth.

“They shoot him,??? he tells me. “They shoot the tiger, the wolf, the snake, the lama’s, the eagle and the monkey.???

“You had a zoo???? I ask.

“No, just in my house. They shoot them all. All the animals,??? he says.

He is talking about the so-called ‘Islamic State’, or ‘Daesh’, as he keeps referring to them. Maximus’ job was to hunt, capture and arrest them. He had been working with Special Forces since 2003, after the fall of former Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein. But what he didn’t realise was Daesh was also hunting him.

“It was quick,??? he tells me. “They came to the house, I ran out the back to escape, then I heard gunshots, many many gunshots, da da da da da da,??? he demonstrates firing from side to side as if holding a gun. “I wanted to go back, so I stopped, but then I saw one behind me, so I ran.??? He shakes his head, looking at the floor. “I run 25 metres then they shoot me. Three in the leg, one in the arm, and two in the back. Then I jump in the water.???

“Feel my arm,??? he says to me as, with two fingers, he pinches the underside of his upper arm. I’m reluctant at first as I know exactly what I’m going to feel.

“The bullet is still inside,??? he indicates to me.

“Yes I can see,??? I say.

“Feel,??? he says to me sternly, but with a smile on his face. So I feel his arm, and yes, there definitely is a bullet in there, as well as gunshot marks and huge scars where the stitches were.

But how did he survive? I ask. He tells me that when Daesh saw him fall into the water, they assumed him dead and left. His neighbour pulled him from the water and took him to hospital. He was there for 25 days before friends thought it too dangerous for him to stay so they took him to the Kurdish north.

It’s been a year since the massacre. I ask him how he feels now. “When I close my eyes, I see my family. My mother my father, dead. I didn’t see them killed but I hear the gunshots. I know. I know. How to bring them back???? he asks me.

We sit, neither of us speak. He has tears in his eyes.

Next to him, a lady comes to sit down. She has a young boy with her. Throughout the conversation with General Maximus, she has been bringing water and food for him. I ask her if she speaks English, but she doesn’t, so Maximus helps.

“She from Anbar,??? he tells me. “She has a story like me. Everyone here has a story like me,??? he says. As I survey the room with it’s bare walls and minimal furniture, I can only imagine the horror that sits behind the eyes of each of the refugees – young or old, they are physically and mentally scarred.

Maha is 34 years-old. She carried out diplomatic work in Iraq and her husband was in construction. She tells me he helped build schools and medical centres.

“Daesh took him,??? she says. “One year and two months ago, I don’t know what happened to him until now.??? She says. “Maybe he’s dead, I don’t know.???

“Were you afraid for your safety and your children’s safety???? I ask her.  

“They blow up my house,??? she tells me.

As Maha sits with her son on her knee, General Maximus explains that Daesh fired a rocket at her house targeting her husband but her husband wasn’t there at the time. The children were in the house.

She lifts the jumper of her son who is now two and a half years old. I see his body is covered in severe burns. “My son was on fire. My baby. They burn him alive.??? At this point, even I find it difficult to keep hold back the tears. I walk over to her and hug both mother and child.

Maximus tells me that the child was in hospital for three months. I see the pictures of a small baby bandaged from head to toe connected to tubes to keep him alive. When they left the hospital, the father had been kidnapped and the mother-in-law had called to tell them there was a reward out for the death of Maha. She took her children and ran to a nearby village in Anbar, but it wasn’t enough. She needed to get out of Iraq, so with little money, she headed to Kurdistan where she stayed for a year.

General Maximums, Maha and her three children and another family I met were in the same boat travelling from Turkey.

While we are talking, another young child comes over and runs into Maximus, he laughs and tickles the girl playfully.

“She fell in the water,??? he says. “She, her two brothers. I pull them out,??? he tells me. I asked him how he pulled them out.

“I jump in,??? he says. “It’s cold, but God tells me the water is warm, so no problem.???

There’s silence for a few minutes as we watch the many children running around, playing. Then Maximus grabs his crutch and pushes himself up off the seat he is sitting on, he gives me his hand. “Come with me,??? he says.

We walk out of the kitchen, and to the gates of the camp. Down the dirt road, slowly, as the pain from the bullet wounds is clearly visible and in front we can see the Aegean Sea and in the distance, the faint outline of the Turkish mountains.

“It’s so beautiful,??? he says to me as he stares out onto the waves. “Listen,??? he says. “It’s so quiet, so peaceful. So safe.???

And with that, we stand together and listen to the silence.