All language subtitles for Abandoned.Engineering.S13E03.Episode.3.1080p.UKTV.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-FFG_track3_[eng]

A Tunisian stronghold that held
the key to Allied victory

in World War II.

The British Field Marshal,
Montgomery, said

that the fate of the
enemy would be decided here.

In Alabama, the pride of a community

that was born out
of a harsh reality.

At a time when people

were struggling for
freedom in this country,

this building stood
as a beacon of hope.

A lavish complex in Lebanon
embroiled in an unexpected tragedy.

You had every component
of a bomb just sitting there

waiting for the
spark that would ignite it.

And in Greece,
an unforgiving institution

for the country's ambitious elite.

It looks like a paradise,

but this place was
designed to toughen you up.

Decaying relics...

...ruins of lost Worlds...

...sights haunted by the past...

...their secrets
waiting to be revealed.

In Tunisia, a hostile landscape

disguises remnants of a
fateful confrontation.

Dug into the ground are structures
that seem at one with the landscape

until you get closer to them.

Are they medieval?

Are they modern?

Who has made them?

This facility has clearly been
stripped of everything of value.

All that's left is the echoing
space and the concrete structures.

A complex buried high
on the hillside reveals

who once occupied this site.

If you look up,
you will see very clearly painted

exactly who was here.

These subterranean layers formed a
vital part of the Nazi plan

to stop the allies dead in
their tracks in North Africa.

The natural advantages
of this piece of terrain

mean that nobody
can get through here.

Overcoming this
required the invention

of an entirely new type of warfare,

conducted by a
ragtag group of rogues

who called themselves the
Pirates of the High Desert.

Major Muhammad Maaz has
served in the Tunisian army

for over 20 years.

He spent a decade
uncovering the secrets

of these remote structures.

HE SPEAKS ARABIC

This site's
construction began in 1936,

but it wasn't the
Nazis doing the building.

In the early 20th century,

Tunisia was part of
the French Empire.

The French were concerned about
the Italian influence in Africa.

Libya had fallen under the authority
and power of the dictators in Italy,

and they felt that Tunisia was next.

The French solution was this,

the Mareth Line.

A 22 mile long,
heavily armed chain of bunkers

designed to protect Tunisia
against an Italian invasion

from neighbouring Libya.

Bound on either side
by natural obstacles,

these fortifications formed
an impenetrable wall.

It was the perfect
place to stage a defence.

Yet it wasn't an
attack on the Mareth Line

that the French should have feared.

The real threat was closer to home.

Germany's blitzkrieg
victory over France in 1940

led to the installation of
pro-Nazi governments

in both the French North African
colonies and France itself.

German led axis forces swiftly took
control over much of North Africa,

including Libya and Tunisia.

The region's strategic
importance would soon make it

a key battleground in the
world's deadliest conflict.

It is a small step
across the narrowest bit

of the Mediterranean Sea to Sicily,
and you're on Italian soil.

Once you can fight the Italians
and the Germans in Italy,

you can fight the Italians
and the Germans in Germany.

Winning the war in Tunisia

is the first step to
winning the war in Europe.

In 1942, the British launched
an invasion of North Africa.

Churchill appointed Field Marshal
Bernard Montgomery,

known as Monty, to lead it.

Americans landed in Morocco
and Algeria to the west of Tunisia,

while British forces pushed
in from Egypt to the east,

trapping the Germans in a
pincer movement in Tunisia.

But the heavily
fortified Mareth Line

now stood in the way
of Allied victory.

Nazi commander Erwin Rommel
was tasked with stopping them.

Rommel was beloved by Hitler.

He was so confident that the
British called him the Desert Fox.

Rommel was determined that the
Mareth Line would be defended

with the belief that so long
as he held the Mareth Line,

then Tunisia would
never fall to the allies.

He massively reinforced the line,

adding emplacements of pillbox
and machine guns on either side.

He also added a five mile
wide minefield that ran

for the entirety of its length.

Attacking this line
of fortifications would

have to be done at great cost.

Paying a price in blood.

Even then, there was no guarantee
a head on assault would succeed.

British Commander Montgomery knew
the only way to defeat the Nazis

was to find a way
around the Mareth Line.

But to get to it, he had to move
thousands of troops and vehicles

across 20 miles of treacherous
mountainous terrain

and then 100 miles
of trackless desert

that was deemed
impossible to penetrate.

It was a huge gamble,
and something no-one,

including the Germans,
thought possible.

But Montgomery already had
a secret mission under way,

one he'd set in
motion months earlier.

The solution came with this
new British special forces

that were actually going to
change the face of warfare.

This covert ops team
of soldiers was called

the Long Range Desert Group,
or the LRDG for short.

It was originally led by maverick
military engineer Ralph Bagnold.

Bagnold was a brilliant geologist,

an amateur archaeologist,

Royal Signals officer,

he was one of the British desert
lovers like Lawrence of Arabia.

Bagnold had spent the '30s
pioneering new ways of getting

around the desert,
like four-wheel drive vehicles

that could move heavy equipment
through the shifting sands.

Bagnold formed the core of a unit

who know how to work with a desert,

rather than to have to fight
against the desert environment.

They can go places no-one
ever expected them to be.

On Montgomery's orders,
they set out deep behind enemy lines

in specially
modified off road trucks

to find a route
around the Mareth Line.

The LRDG probed the mountains
and out into the desert,

looking for a route that would allow
the allies to avoid the Mareth Line

and outflank the Germans.

After weeks of searching,

they managed to
chart a navigable course.

Armed with this vital information,

Montgomery launched
a two pronged attack.

So the British Army
pins down Rommel's troops

in the Mareth Line.

Another chunk of the British Army
sneaked through the desert

find their way, assisted
by the Long Range Desert Group,

and deliver a sharp left hook

to the German Army.

But victory was far from certain.

Two weeks of hellish fighting
followed before the British finally

overpowered the Mareth Line, paving
the way for victory in North Africa.

Tunisia was fundamental
to the North African campaign,

and the North African campaign
was fundamental to the success

of the Second World War.

Montgomery said that
without the probing

of the Long Range Desert Group,

then his attack would
have been a leap in the dark.

At the end of the battle
for the Mareth Line,

its bunkers were
disarmed and decommissioned.

The now empty structures
were left to decay.

In the 1990s, a museum opened
where we can all learn

about what happened here
during the Second World War.

In Lebanon's capital city,
an elegant structure sticks out

from the high rises
that surround it.

Beirut can be a city
of noise and commotion,

but tucked away in the centre
of it all is something of an oasis.

When you turn onto this street,

the architecture of the
space is drastically different

than everything around it.

You walk into this house and it's
very elaborate, very beautiful.

It has marble floors,
beautiful ceilings.

These were clearly built
by and for the city's elite.

Yet the faded opulence hides
the hallmarks of a traumatic event.

Everywhere you look,
you start to notice damage.

The great windows at the back of
the building are missing entirely.

It's like someone has reconstructed
whole segments of the outside wall

but never bothered to paint it.

This level of
devastation and destruction

doesn't happen over time.

Something very quick and
violent has happened here.

It was a normal day,
the weather was fantastic,

and all of a sudden,
there was a huge circle,

just like a nuclear
bomb over this area.

People had to evacuate immediately.

The city was collapsing around them.

That day would make
headlines the world over

and headlines of the
worst possible kind.

I've been through wars.

I've been through civil unrest.

I've never, ever
seen something like that.

Eli Khoury co-owns this building.

When he and his business
partners first decided

to make this the headquarters
for their media company,

it had been neglected for years.

I'm the type that
always wants to dream big.

When we moved in, which was in 2010,

well, it was in shambles.

Cost roughly about
$4 to $5 million to fix it.

Believe me, it was funny because
people didn't want to go home.

I mean, they wanted to stay here,
work late.

Every Friday, we used to do like
an in-house sort of little party.

But this building was not
always used as an office.

It began life over a century earlier
as a glamorous private residence.

More than once, it was a victim
of the country's turbulent past.

In 18th and 19th century Beirut,

the aristocracy was formed by
prominent Christian families

that held massive
wealth and power in Lebanon.

They built these palatial homes
in the style of European villas.

This one is called Villa Mokbel.

It was built in the
late 19th century,

and it became known as a
gathering place for politicians,

artists and great thinkers.

It's a combination
of Tuscan and Ottoman,

and there are only five houses
remaining like this in the country.

These houses were filled
with beautiful art pieces

and things of this sort.

At one point, there were about 30
of these palaces on this street.

But few of these palazzos
would escape the chaos

that descended on
Beirut in the 1970s.

Civil War broke out and some of the
heaviest fighting took place here,

right in the heart of the city.

As rival militias
fought for control,

these buildings would suffer
from artillery strikes and looting.

Villa Mokbel was one of those
caught in the conflict's crossfire.

At the end of the war in 1990,

the derelict, battle scarred mansion
changed ownership a number of times

until Eli stepped
in to transform it.

But little did he know, Beirut
was once again heading for disaster.

Things were going well,
but there was a slow moving

catastrophe building
just down the road.

Tuesday, the 4th of August 2020
started like any other day

for Eli and his 40 employees.

I came here with my colleague.

We were both talking on the phone
and just looking at the port,

looking at the sky, and
then the whole thing happened.

Oh, my God.

The scene I saw was incredible.

The explosion actually
went through the buildings

as if they were liquid.

This is when my colleague and I...

He pushed me.

So we jump on the floor.

The lady that was on that balcony
actually flew all... all the way

to that end.

And she fell unconscious, unfortunately.

The blast Eli witnessed
destroyed 77,000 homes

and caused $15 billion worth
of damage.

The chain of events that led
to this disaster was set in motion

seven years earlier.

In 2013, a Russian owned ship,
the MV Rhosus,

made an unscheduled stop
in the port of Beirut.

Port authorities inspected
the ship and they did not

like what they found.

They discovered that the
ship's hull was leaking

and water was constantly being
pumped out to keep it afloat.

They decided very quickly
that this ship was unsafe

to continue its journey,

and grounded them there
in the port of Beirut.

The ship's Russian owner refused
to pay the mounting port bills,

and shortly after,
mysteriously vanished.

The ship's cargo was unloaded
and stuffed into a warehouse

right there at the port.

What was off-loaded was
a potentially deadly cargo.

2,750 tons of ammonium nitrate,
a volatile compound that is used

in fertiliser but can also
be employed to make explosives.

The cargo sat there
in hangar 12 for years,

completely neglected.

Customs officials at the
port sent multiple letters

to government lawyers in Beirut,
pleading for the volatile payload

to be removed.

Every request was ignored.

In the weeks leading
up to the disaster,

even the Prime Minister
and President

were warned of the
potential dangers of the situation.

Despite wide knowledge
of this safety risk,

nobody took any action.

But there was an
even bigger problem.

The ammonium nitrate was stored
in bags that were spilling,

and it was stored with kerosene,
hydrochloric acid,

and 15 tons of fireworks.

When you put all of
these materials together,

you've essentially got
the makings of a giant bomb.

All that was missing
now was a spark.

That spark came on the 4th of August
when an unexplained fire broke out,

thought to have originated
at the north end of hangar 12.

It spread quickly
across the warehouse.

Fireworks stored nearby discharge,

and hangar 12 goes up
in a ball of flame.

Seconds later,
the ammonium nitrate detonates

in a blinding, enormous explosion.

Oh, my God!

It creates the shock wave that goes
across the city, breaks out windows,

knocks down buildings,
blows people over.

We went out, we started seeing
people with blood all over.

It was a scene from the worst
World War II movie you've ever seen.

Over 200 people die.

You know, hundreds of
thousands are homeless.

One of the most saddening moment
was watching a lady

coming down from her apartment
with a dead baby in her hands.

It was incredible.

Remarkably, we had 41 injured,
but thank God no-one died.

Like many of the buildings
in the blast radius,

Villa Mokbel was
shattered into pieces

and needed emergency
stabilisation to keep it standing.

Today, it remains in ruins
until Eli can raise the funds

to once again restore it.

If I were to fix it again,

it will cost between
$2 to $3 million.

If things get better, we would
want to come back to this office

because it was beautiful
to work out of here.

In the aftermath of the explosion,
an investigation was launched,

but any attempt to hold particular
government officials accountable

has been blocked on
multiple occasions.

For the people of Beirut,

the long wait for justice continues.

The country is going through
a real, real tough stuff now.

It's actually a
tough job to be Lebanese.

It's not an easy job.

In downtown Birmingham, Alabama,
is an imposing structure

that played a part in one of
America's greatest times of change.

Standing alone like a
monolith is this very dramatic

seven story building.

It might be a former department
store or an office block.

It's just so vast.

What can it be used for?

On the upper level are long
corridors with fading business signs

for lawyers, doctors and dentists.

But I'd say it's been a while since
anyone sat inside of those chairs.

It's almost as if the people
left in a great hurry.

Further exploration reveals
there is much more to this site

than meets the eye.

The whole second floor is
dominated by this enormous ballroom

with balconies and a stage.

This was a place for big
public meetings of some sort.

Discarded paraphernalia
hints at an ominous agenda.

They're strange symbols,
a coffin and throne like seating.

It all feels sort of ritualistic.

Yet looks can be deceiving.

And all is not what it seems.

It was a place where
people organised to make sure

that democracy was for
all of American citizens.

Corey D Hawkins is a local lawyer
who grew up in northern Alabama.

Since 2013, he has headed
up the group that originally

constructed this grand
century old building.

It was the place that
African Americans were proud of,

and whether they were a
member of the organisation or not,

this was their building.

That organisation is one
often shrouded in secrecy.

We have been accused of
being a cult, which is not true.

Being a part of the Illuminati.

I am a fourth generation Mason.

My father, my grandfather, my
great-grandfather were all Masons.

Freemasonry has been described
as a beautiful system of morality.

In simple terms,

the Freemasons are a male social
and philanthropic organisation,

and its origins date
back to medieval Europe

and the guilds of stone masons.

Through his career, a mason would
move up from being an apprentice

to a journeyman,
to eventually a master mason,

and at each level, they were taught
secret code words and handshakes.

That way, as stone masons made their
way across Europe to the next job,

each man would be paid
according to his skill level.

By the mid 1700s, the handshake
still remained,

but the society had evolved into
a fraternity no longer connected

to the stonemasonry labour force.

Yet there were no lodges
for African Americans.

That is, until Revolutionary War
hero Prince Hall

made it his mission to change that.

Prince Hall
was an extraordinary man.

Born, raised as a slave in Boston,
by 1770, he had earned his freedom.

He sought admittance
to an established lodge

and was prevented
because of his colour.

But he wasn't daunted, he continued.

Hall realised he had to
sidestep the American Masons

that denied him access.

Instead, he petitioned the
Duke of Cumberland in England,

the home of Freemasonry, to ask
permission to start his own lodge.

A charter was granted and the
African lodge number 459 began.

Many African American lodges,
including this one,

are descended from Prince Hall's.

Fast forward to the early 1900s,
and Birmingham's Prince Hall Masons

were determined to build
a state headquarters worthy

of their hard-fought history.

You have to remember that this
was a period of Jim Crow laws,

meaning that segregation
was enshrined in law.

This building, therefore,
was to be the beacon of hope

for those communities.

The order raised $720,000
from its members,

and in 1922 construction started
on their new Masonic Temple.

Two years later,
it opened its doors.

There's a photo from 1924,
when the Masons were congregated

here in this room
at the statewide meeting.

But this building was much more than
just a headquarters for the Masons.

This building was intended to be one
that people could walk in proudly

through the front door
without fear of reprisal.

It was full of
excitement and creativity,

businesses and activities
designed to uplift the community.

On the 17th Street side,
ground level,

you had a drug store,

barbershop, shoeshine shop.

There were several dentists here.

Doctors and attorneys were in here.

Places like that, where people can
just walk in right off the street

and not have to worry about
if they were offending anyone

just because of the
colour of their skin.

For African Americans, that was new,

gave people a sense
of pride and hope in

what the future
holds for our people.

Over the next three decades,
the Masonic Temple helped transform

the Fourth Avenue District into a
thriving business and cultural hub.

But the biggest test
was still yet to come.

In the 1960s, the long
overdue fight for civil rights

was really coming to a boil.

And Birmingham is today synonymous
with the intensity of this fight.

In January 1963, Martin Luther King

announced he wanted to lead
a demonstration in Birmingham.

It was while he was in the city
to recruit nonviolent protesters

for the Birmingham campaign
that Martin Luther King came

to the Masonic Temple.

And there is a photo where
he's making a pool shot.

So, that lets you know
that he was in this building,

and we're proud of that.

King chose Birmingham because
of its strong segregation laws

and because it had officials
there like Bull Connor,

who was a symbol of segregation.

But Reverend Fred Shuttlesworth,

a key civil rights
spokesperson in Birmingham,

didn't want to
proceed with the protest,

while Connor,
the city's public safety officer

and de facto police chief,
was still in office.

He believed that if a
desegregation accord was reached

with local businesses, that
Connor would actually reverse it

and then reinforce segregation.

The only way to remove Conner
was if the City of Birmingham

voted to change how the
local government was set up.

Jamison Davis played a crucial
role in making that happen

from his legal practice
at the Masonic Temple.

There were four or five lawyers
that were in this building,

and we were all
working toward the same end

of getting the city
of Birmingham changed

from a three person city commission

to a nine person City Council.

Once the voters voted to
change the form of government,

that changed the
attitude of all of the people

that lived in the city
toward progress by blacks.

Birmingham then held its
first mayoral election.

Connor ran, but lost.

And with the more moderate
Albert Boutwell in office,

the marches
actually could go forward.

On April 3rd, 1963,

the campaign began with
lunch counter sit ins,

a march to City Hall and a
boycott of downtown businesses.

But toward the end of April,
things were starting to flag.

It was hard for people to keep
going in the streets and facing

the kind of abuse they were facing.

The civil rights
campaign in Birmingham

was in danger of falling apart.

It would take a profound
leap of faith to save it.

Some leaders came up with
a pretty radical idea,

which was to send the children
out to help lead these protests,

the Children's Crusade.

This was very controversial,
obviously,

cos they were sending
these kids into harm's way.

In May, the campaign
was reinvigorated

by these young people's presence.

But Bull Connor, despite no longer
having any real lawmaking power

after being ousted
by Birmingham's voters,

refused to relinquish control
of the city's police force.

He was willing to use the most
extreme and vicious methods

to drive these
protesters off the streets.

Over 900 children were arrested,
and then he began to implement

even more draconian measures
involving the use of water cannons

and attack dogs.

I remember looking out the window
and watching the water

coming out of those hoses,
hitting young people

and knocking them
down in the street.

Often when protesters were injured,
they didn't go to the hospital.

They came to the Masonic Temple
because there were doctors there.

Outside, the tide was
turning in the fight for equality.

The shocking scenes were
enough to spark both national

and international outrage.

Eventually, Attorney General
Robert Kennedy sent a representative

down to Birmingham to try
to negotiate a compromise,

and indeed, the result of
all this was the effective

desegregation of Birmingham.

It was very good because you knew
that you were making progress,

because in the next year,
the Civil Rights Act was passed,

and the next year, 1965,
the Voting Rights Act was passed.

That that was the genius
of King's movement

was to make people see for
themselves that this was unfair,

that it had to change.

For a long time after
the Civil Rights Campaign,

this building
continued to be popular,

useful and a centre for
this community in this city.

But as the years passed,
the businesses slowly vacated

until the last occupants
left in 2011.

Its legacy, however, is secure,

and there are multimillion
dollar plans in progress

to bring it back to life.

As one of his last acts in office,
President Obama

signed an executive order
establishing a civil rights

national monument in Birmingham,

and it includes protecting the
Prince Hall Lodge Masonic Temple.

On the Greek island of Spetses,
is a collection of monolithic

constructions intended to
mould the country's elite.

Here, in this town of Red roof
buildings, we see this compound,

a very imposing,
large white structures.

They were clearly designed
to be stately and impressive,

but it's kind of eerily empty.

There's an old basketball court with
a hoop just lying on the ground

and then what seems
like an old gymnasium.

You can still see the wooden
climbing frames along the sides.

It all gives a very ghost
town feel about the place.

Entering through a broken door,
you're greeted by a vast number

of chairs and desks piled
precariously on top of each other.

Concealed within this
Aladdin's cave of artefacts

is evidence this facility
had a financial motive.

It says here how much
money they were getting.

Rows of old lockers with
the doors just hanging open.

Blackboards.

I mean, it looks like a school,

but why would you have such a huge
educational facility like this

stranded on a tiny island?

This complex was built to achieve
an ambitious national dream.

But for the people contained within,
it felt more like a prison.

The first year was very difficult,
especially for me.

- For everybody.
- And for everybody,
because we were bad boys.

This was no luxury five-star
resort.

This place was designed
to toughen you up.

It was a world-class institution
with a very serious purpose.

Leontios Portokalakis
and Panos Karamitsos

met here in the 1960s.

No Facebook,
no internet at that time,

not even cellular phones.

So we had to rely on each other.

We became brothers.

It's a like a family.

Forging strong alliances was
central to this facility's vision.

It was conceived in an era
when Greece was still emerging

from the dark shadow of tyranny.

At the start of the 20th century,

Greece was still a
relatively young country,

having been ruled for much
of the previous 500 years

by the Ottoman Empire.

In a bloody war of independence
in the 1820s,

the Greeks had taken back Athens
and many of the surrounding areas,

but much of the
mainland and the islands

were still controlled by the Turks.

That all changed when a legendary
leader hailing from Crete

took power in 1910.

Eleftherios Venizelos
was a young politician

determined to unite
all Greeks into one nation.

By 1913, after fighting
against the Turks

with his Balkan neighbours,

he managed to retake
former Greek land.

Then, during the First World War,

after siding with the allies,

he seized back even more.

By 1920, Greece had doubled in size
and population under his leadership.

Venizelos believed that
this re-established country

with its deep cultural
roots, needed a strong, elite,

a leadership class who could manage
the challenges that lay ahead.

And he was very aligned to looking
at his allies in Britain and saying,

"Well, how did the British do it?"

Venizelos used the centuries
old English boarding school,

Eton College,
as the blueprint for his vision.

The aim was to educate
future leaders of Greece.

By that time, Eton had already
produced 15 British prime ministers.

The Duke of Wellington supposedly
said after defeating Napoleon,

that the Battle of Waterloo was
won on the playing fields of Eton.

For Venizelos,
his country's future depended

on the realisation of this dream.

Yet no-one else was
willing to invest in his idea.

He didn't have anywhere near
the money to build his school.

The grand plan
looked destined to fail

until an old friend
offered him a lifeline.

Sotirios Anargyros
was the wealthiest man in Spetses,

having made a fortune
trading tobacco in America.

But he offered the
cash on one condition,

that the school be built
on his beloved Spetses.

In 1927, the Anargyros and
Korgialeneios school of Spetses

opened its doors
to wealthy families.

It featured five neoclassical
buildings, manicured gardens,

state of the art sports facilities,

and even an amphitheatre with
breathtaking views out over the sea.

The school brought in
noted scholars and educators

to train these young men,

but it also really
sought to toughen these kids up.

These might be the spoiled
children of the elite,

but they wouldn't
be spoiled for long.

The school adopted the harsh
discipline system of Eton,

complete with a timetable that kept
the boys busy from 6am to 10pm.

Every half an hour,
we had something to do.

We were kept busy.

There was no other
disciplinary system like that

in any other school of Greece.

That system included
physical punishment

by the teachers
for alleged bad behaviour.

The boys could be caned
for the slightest breach,

from speaking in class
to not cleaning their rooms.

If that wasn't bad enough,

the students themselves were
forced into a brutal hierarchy.

Older boys who'd earned their rank

were free to dish out
punishments as they saw fit.

That was one of the
saddest memories,

because we had to cope with the
discipline tactics

of the teachers and also
the discipline tactics

of the boys of the higher grade.

The daily curriculum also
included harsh activities

intended to build character.

Every morning the boys had to
take a plunge into the cold sea

or face punishment.

That was the start of the day.

At 6am, in the morning,

it was dark in winter,
and some days it was snowing also,

and we had to go inside the sea.

The regime was tough,
but the school's early years

delivered on Venizelos's promise.

In the 1930s, future
Greek Prime Minister Georgios Rallis

was educated there.

Yet Rallis would be the only
Prime Minister produced here.

13 years after the school opened,

world events forced
it into a radical new era.

Greece was devastated
by conflict in the 1940s,

first under occupation by the Nazis
and then by a three year civil war.

With the country in a
state of post-war poverty,

parents were less able to afford

expensive boarding schools.

The school then began to target
a different type of student

to keep its doors open.

Greek shipping tycoons working
abroad knew that their children

would be well taken care of here
by the round the clock boarding.

Another type of student who got
sent to the school were

basically the ne'er do well kids
of the upper classes,

kids who were out of
control or making trouble,

a little bit like
the way some people

would send a wayward child
off to a military academy

to get straightened out.

Panos was one of those children.

I was a bad boy before I come here.

- - Yes.
- No.
- That's why they
put me in this school.

- Yes.
- In order to
have more discipline.

Confined on this tiny island,

this was almost the school
version of Alcatraz.

We have many, many escapes
from students during our lessons.

But the school was
running on borrowed time.

As Greek society
became more liberal,

the school's conservative
approach to education gradually

became less popular.

Student numbers
declined in the 1970s,

and by 1983 there were only five
pupils attending the massive school.

Without enough income to
maintain the extensive facilities,

it was forced to close.

Today, Leontios and Panos helped
run a foundation which is working

to revitalise the school.

Their goal is to host
summer schools,

conferences and academies here.

Our task is to make the
whole foundation more popular

and attract more seminars.

All of us, we feel very proud.

We lived a part of this vision.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media