The Historical Significance of Topakas, Milos: A Journey Through Time

A Glimpse into November 1944

Topakas, Milos, November 13, 1944 – 16:47

In November 1944, Milos was gripped by a wind that cut through the skin like a knife. Low clouds loomed over the island, and the sea beneath them took on a leaden hue. On the southwestern tip of the island, a place the locals called Topakas, the quiet creaking of metal echoed rhythmically—the German radar high in the hills manned by a heavily armed crew.

At that moment, the British destroyer HMS Easton lay anchored three miles offshore. Two boats carrying 22 men from the Haddock Troop landed at Cape Psathi at 14:50. This was no ordinary unit—two sergeants, four corporals, and the rest were marines originally trained in Alexandria for street fighting in Piraeus. They were sent to Milos to eliminate the Germans who had been stranded here after the evacuation of mainland Greece.

The coastline in this area was unforgiving. Stones, rubble, sharp edges, and the crashing waves drowned out any sound. The men waded into the water, weapons held high, explosives in canvas bags. Each step on the pebbles sounded too loud. Every clink of metal felt like a gunshot. The path upward led through ravines. The underbrush was thick, dry, and full of thorns, making each step crackle.

“Tripwire!” hissed the corporal in front. A thin wire led to a flare and what they called a Bouncing Betty. They snipped it with pliers.

By around 17:00, as the light began to fade, they stood just below the barbed wire. The barracks—a long stone structure with a tin roof—stood to the left. To the right, on a bare rocky outcrop about 80 meters away, was the Freya radar grid. It had a view all the way to Crete, with a range of about 100 km. That was their target.

Then it happened. From the right flank, a German machine gun barked. Initially, it fired inaccurately, “spasmodically and very imprecisely,” as later noted by Commander Dennis. Bell raised his hand, and his Bren guns responded.

The first group charged directly at the barbed wire, while two smaller teams covered the flanks. The wire was old but tough. Once they cut through it, the area came alive.

No one emerged from the radio hut. The marines fired a burst through the doors—sparks flew inside, followed by small explosions.

From the first earth bunker, two Kriegsmarine sailors emerged with their hands raised. They were young, without caps. But from the second bunker, no one came out, so two phosphorus grenades were thrown inside. Smoke thickened, white and acrid. Screams echoed from within. Three Germans who tried to flee fell to crossfire. The rest retreated behind the ridge and began throwing hand grenades down. It was a stalemate.

At that moment, Bell knelt by one of his fallen men. It was Bowkett. Next to him lay Batchelor. Bell’s radio operator later swore he clearly heard the order: “Withdraw!” The voice of Captain Bell. The operator repeated it.

They began to retreat down the slope, taking cover behind every larger rock, scraping their knees on every uneven surface, and the slope beneath them kept shifting. Darkness was almost complete. Down at the ravine, Commander Dennis counted his men. Five were missing.

“Bell, Bachelor, Bowkett, Brown, Barber...”

He immediately dispatched a search party, but to no avail. The Germans had already retaken the ridge and were firing into the darkness.

Dennis knew they couldn’t stay. He returned with the unit to Easton and planned a new landing at dawn. But during the night, the Germans blew up the radar and the underground tunnel through the entire mountain to prevent them from falling into Allied hands and retreated inland.

A week later, on November 21, Dennis wrote in a report to the Admiralty that Bell was “wounded and captured.” But that was not true. Bell was killed instantly. So were Batchelor, Bowkett, and Brown. The fifth man, sailor Harry Barber, survived the radar explosion in a deep shelter, was captured, and later found on the German hospital ship Gradisca.

In 1998, the son of Captain Bell visited Topakas and affixed a small brass plaque to the rock where his father fell. It remains there to this day. When the wind blows from the sea, one can only hear the rustling of junipers and the clinking of wire that has remained there for decades, lying in the underbrush like a silent witness to a significant event.

The Legacy of Topakas

The events at Topakas are not just a chapter in history; they are a testament to bravery and sacrifice. Each year, visitors come to Milos, drawn by its beauty and serenity. They walk the same paths, breathe the same air, and perhaps feel a connection to the past.

Exploring Milos Today

Today, Milos is known for its stunning landscapes and tranquil beaches. Families and couples seeking a peaceful vacation can find solace here. Imagine lounging on a sun-drenched beach, the sound of waves lapping at the shore, and the scent of fresh Mediterranean cuisine wafting through the air.

The island offers a perfect blend of relaxation and adventure. You can explore hidden coves, hike scenic trails, or simply enjoy a leisurely meal at a seaside taverna. The warmth of the locals adds to the charm, making every visit memorable.

A Call to Action

If you’re looking for a getaway that combines history with natural beauty, Milos is the place to be. The stories of the past linger in the air, inviting you to discover them.

So, pack your bags and head to Milos! Experience the tranquility and the rich history that this beautiful island has to offer. You won’t regret it!

Text was prepared in collaboration with AI, and the image materials were created based on computer fantasy but with significant contributions from the author's knowledge of local realities.

Errors in details are still possible. For lovers of military history among our guests, I recommend a trip to the radar base!