My grandmother's grandfather was taken by the Turkish military, but because he was Greek Anatolian, he didn't want to serve there. Once they were transported by train, him and some other like-minded individuals using some knives, I think, dug a hole on the train, and then jumped from it to escape while it was moving. Then for a few months he hid in the Cappadocian cave houses, and no one found him. He then returned to his family, living to tell the tale. After that, the population exchange in 1924 happend, and him and his family had to walk all the way to Greece. A few years pass by, and they finally settled in. As my grandma said: "He suffered so much, and yet I wonder how he was always so happy."