August 15, 1940 is dawning. Crowds of pilgrims swarm the white island of Tinos, in the deep blue Greek Aegean sea. At dawn, in the bay of the island, the old, historical cruiser of the Greek fleet, 'ELLI', arrived to confer the usual honours. Decked with flags it waves the nation's colours amidst the religious celebration. It is early in the morning, it is still eight thirty, when a terrible noise shakes the ship and the island. Black smoke immediately rises, surrounding 'ELLI'; struck beneath the waterline by a hidden enemy, she leans to one side. Who did the crime? Who threw the dagger from afar? No Greek soul is in any doubt. The brave act carries its authorship in its very manner. Besides, the survey that will be conducted at the bottom of the sea the next day will bring to light the cracked visiting-card of the murderer: fragments from the torpedoes, with registration numbers and Italian details.
And yet: although there is no doubt, the Greek government decides not to reveal the truth in order to avoid any friction. In its communique it states that it did not manage to find out the nationality of the submarine that had hit 'ELLI'.

(Angelos Terzakis, Elliniki Epopoiia 1940-1941, in: Chatzipatera-Phafaliou, Martyries1940-1941, Athens, Kedros, 1982, p. 20)