Anonymous, 52
Srebrenica, Bosnia
“He pushed my back with a rifle. I had one foot on the stairs. I told him, “You beat me for six months, you maybe broke my ribs, my jaw, my teeth, but you could not kill me. You son of a bitch.” (Deep breath). He cocked the rifle. I said, “Go ahead, do what you want.” I climbed up—once I got to the top of the stairs, I told him, “Zelena Beretka [Green Beret] survived. You couldn’t do anything to me.”
Interview originally conducted in BCS.
Tell us about yourself—Where did you grow up? What was a typical day like? How did you spend your time?
I grew up in Bosnia, in Vlasinac. I worked in Serbia. I travelled around all of Yugoslavia, along and across, everywhere. I went to concerts, I hung out with people. (Laughs).
When did the war start for you? Was there a specific moment when you realized, “Ah, okay this is happening”?
Ah…I worked in Belgrade as a baker. And it was one of our holidays, Bajram.
I started heading home for Bajram, and when I came to Zvornik, Mali Zvornik—that’s where the border was between Bosnia-Herzegovina and Serbia—and on the Serbian side, there was all of this heavy artillery, tanks, howitzers, canons, army reserves…you could call it whatever you want…mercenaries. They beat Bosnia from there, from Mali Zvornik. They stopped buses and they led Muslims, the led Croats [off the bus].
And then it was my turn, a guy came up to me, “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Where are you coming from?”
“Belgrade.”
“What were you doing in Belgrade?”
“I work there.”
And nothing happened, but they didn’t let us pass that border. So we went another three, four hours, up the Drina, in Serbia, to Perućica where there’s that dam, I don’t know, the TVA, we passed there. That’s all Bosnia up there, Muslim settlements, there isn’t there… there are Serbs, little villages. But no one has any idea [what’s going to happen]. Nothing, I came home, nothing [was wrong]. That was May 1.
Early in the morning, maybe six, seven, morning light dawned… the sun was shining… it was pretty (scoffs). And then they started to shoot. They had already climbed up the hills around us (we were in the valley)… and the shooting started.
And then this car came [into the town], military police. On the megaphone, they called all of the residents out of their houses, “Blah, blah, blah”, “Take out all of your weapons, it doesn’t have anything to do with anyone.” It’s just a military action, it’ll pass quickly (clears throat), we thought. So everyone went out to this one meadow, kids and women too, adults, people, everyone, and then they asked, allegedly, who here is a hunter, where are you weapons—do you know what lovac is? It’s a hunter.
[They said], “If you don’t bring… if you don’t bring [your] weapons in, five minutes, ten minutes, half of the people are gonna be wipe out.” People don’t have a choice. They go bring hunting guns, rifles, whatever they have, even if they have [it] legally, under the approval of the law, [like] conceal gun. [Whatever] they have, [they] bring the military everything. And they [the military] take it.
And they were couple soldier there to guide us, or, to like, “keep us safe,” from somebody (laughs).
And they keep on going farther out. They got to one village, maybe, [a] mile and half from where we are—and we knew all of each other, you know, the town people—they took one man, and [they] took him to those group of the people [in the meadow], so that everybody saw them…he stood up, with barbed wire on his back, and they took him, maybe, half mile from there, and they shot him.
[long pause].
When you were in Belgrade, was there either a feeling, or some kind of information, that something was going to happen in Bosnia?
We didn’t!
Bosnian media didn’t mention Bosnia. They only talked about Croats, “Ustaše attacked,” and they showed there, Serbian villages that were destroyed, how everything was, how refugees were coming to Belgrade.
Actually, I met couple of people, and actually a couple, and I asked them,
“Why are you here? How they bring you here?”
“We didn’t wanna come here.”
“Well then, who bring you?”
“Serbian forces.”
And they said that they [Serbian military] make them to burn their houses. To just show on media how Croats are is so bad. How they killing, how they torturing, how they burning everything, when actually… (laughs).
That’s what girl told me, how much you can trust her? I heard from her. And she’s from not far from Sisak in Croatia, some, village, and they said they make them to burn their houses. Serbian forces. Whoever. They pulled them out and told them to burn their houses to look like—Ustaše, Croats, came and they burned down. That’s how they did. And like I say, that girl told me, how much, I don’t know.
Yeah, like hearsay…
Yeah. And once, we were sitting there when they [the Serbian military] had a mobilization in Belgrade and they sent [a bunch of people] in a truck and they pack them in a truck with some coffins well…[we thought] “That’s something that will not be good…” But, they never talked about Bosnia. Nothing. April 29, when I left Belgrade, I could cross [the border] where I usually cross in Bosnia, but I see that something is not right [laughs]. And then, on May 1, that’s how they start.
Pa, we have more specific questions, but, maybe you could start what you want to say about your story.
About my story?
I couldn’t believe that it was happening. I had more Serbian jarane [buddies] than anyone else—I didn’t hang out with Muslims the way I did with Serbs. They came over to my place, slept over, ate, drank, I went over to their place. [We were] like family. And then, when the war start, they don’t wanna even look at me or say “hi” or anything. So what’s happened to them, I don’t have idea.
But I believe, like I say, from when I was in the army, and Milosević and his crew, they poisoned the people with this information and all kind of stuff. And… I believe they use some kind of narcotic because cause when you talked to them, you can see they hear you but they didn’t get what you’re saying. They just looking as blind, you know, these…I don’t know.
They didn’t want to talk because—
Because of the war.
Because of the war.
And before war, like now, we would sit together, have drinks, coffee, you know, joke about life, everything. And tomorrow, that’s it. Everybody’s like stone. Nobody… and actually they tried to hurt you. Or your family. And they did.
And they were being influenced by—
Media. Serbian media. They were the originators with fake misinformation, you know. And they, the young people, in a cafe, for drink, the TV would be on showing music, music that we all knew. And they [media outlets] would always stop the music, “BREAKING NEWS”— this happened, this happened, that happened, and people get pumped up, you know. Especially when they have few drinks and whatever, and then, sign up [for the army], “Oh yeah I’m gonna go,” you know, for revenge. But they don’t know what they want revenge for! (Laughs). Because they’re listening to the media and what they’re saying is so bad and it so influenced those people to do what they did.
You were in Belgrade. Did you also see those news stories?
Yeah, yeah.
Yeah?
Yeah. They just talking Ustaše, Croatia, how they get screwed in Slovenia, you know. They first start in Slovenia. And, they moved down to Croatia, and…it was always…they, they are right, everybody is wrong, they are right. (Laughs).
When the war started in Slovenia, did you think it was coming to Bosnia?
No! I didn’t believe. How I’m gonna believe?! Two years before that, I was in army, in Jugoslav Army. And I still had influence from these meetings that we had every day—telling us how we should care about Yugoslavia, about people, about everything. That’s not what was happening [in 1992], you know.
When they start talking, “yeah, Croatia, Ustaše, did this did that,” maybe, 40-50% of that is true, but rest of is made up story. (Clears throat).
Going back to that day when they started to shoot, from the hills, what happened after that?
Typical day after that? We were—on that day when it started— we were all there [in that meadow] and they left five or six [guards] to watch us. There were around eight, ten people from that the morning, in this one meadow we were all together. Then night fell. I took my family along with a few others, and we left. I don’t know how much you know geography of Bosnia. (laughs), but maybe 25 kilometers, from our town, there was one place, Han Pijesak, where my sister was. They were far away from Serbian community. We went up there, we were [there] maybe two weeks. There’s no food. None… I came back [to my town] from Han Pijesak one time… that’s 25 kilometra, maybe 16, 17 miles one way—
You walked?
We walked. Yeah. She [my wife] was pregnant. I have brother and sister, my mom. She [my mom] decides that she gonna stay with my uncle and his wife. We were younger [than her], we were… yeah.
And I come back from Han Pijesak, to get some food. That’s a long way to walk. And then you get 70, 80 pounds of food on your back and you go back (laughs). Yeah it’s not easy task but that’s [what we did].
And then, they have some organized civilian force up there. Commander Avdo Palić. He was my professor in my high school. I know him very well.
Oh really?
Yeah. And they had organized some army, you know. I joined army right away. They have some posts outside of the village, but the Serbs? They had barracks there. And they passed through the village… tanks, trucks, canons. And I asked him [my commander],
“Why’re those [barracks] there? Why’re those tanks there?”
“Ah they won’t do anything to us,” [He said].
(Laughs).
Then… seven days later, they burn down everything. And when I asked them [before that],
“Why [are] we not stopping them before they gain that terrain? You don’t need any weapon, you can stop them with a rock.”
(Laughs).
[Bosnian commanders] say, “No we not gonna do [that]…”
Seven days later, they burn down [the village]. Yeah.
[Long pause].
And from there, then we went to Sućeska, that’s Srebrenica, I have an aunt there. And it was maybe 40 kilometer from Han Pijesak to Sućeska. And it was late. Night time. You don’t see nothing. Forest. Mountain. River. It was horrible. And she’s [my wife’s] pregnant, I got younger brother and sister, they maybe, ten, eleven years old.
How did you decide to go to Sućeska?
When they, when they burned everything up there, they [the Bosnian military] left for Žepa, down there, maybe twelve kilometers away. But I knew that they didn’t have any food there. How are we going to survive there? I don’t know people down there, I don’t know who is going to give me food to eat (laughs). I have my wife, pregnant, two brothers, and another brother and sister, they young, everybody need to eat. And I know I have my aunt and they in good standing is, maybe 70, 80, square kilometer property in free territory, maybe there’s more opportunity to get the food there.
That’s how we decide to go. It’s not just me, my cousin, nephew, there were plenty of people [who went]. So we get there. And were there for three, four months. Four months, and it’s getting badfor the food. Real bad. There’s nothing to eat. Actually I borrow from the people there horse and I go maybe 50 kilometar one-way to find food.
We didn’t [find it] for another 15 or 20 days. There wasn’t any, really. The first stop we hit, we couldn’t go anymore because četnici set up a line of armored trucks and there wasn’t any more free territory there for us to pass through. And my aunt that we were staying with in Sućeska told me
“Don’t me mad at me, you’re free to stay, but you see we don’t have food, you don’t have food.” I mean, it’s hard for her. She says, “If you can find [food] you can stay, if you not find…” That’s what she told me. “I don’t want to see children of my brother how they suffer.” You know, from hunger. “You have to go somewhere else.”
And there were a lot of Serbian positions that we had to cross.
We successfully crossed.
We get to my mother’s house. They received us really hospitably, but they start getting tight on the food. There’s no food (laughs). I have some weapon, gun, ammunition, I want to sell to get some food, nobody wanna give me nothing. We are three days, no food in the mouth, nothing. Yeah. And then, Konijević Polje fell. When was Morillon there. That UN whatever—
Yeah, the French guy
Yeah. And actually when he was talking to the people in the town, the Serbs threw a grenade. I was standing there and I saw… I don’t know the woman, she was in her late pregnancy. I mean late, late, belly is that big (gestures a big pregnant belly). And when the grenade fell down, you know they kill couple of people, and I look at her, and the shrapnel cut her belly. And baby is halfway out of her belly and gasping and crying, you know, nobody has cut the belly. Wow. Is mess.
Was she alive?
Yeah she’s alive. It just cut her stomach, it didn’t kill her. You know you get knife and just slice. She’s crying…baby crying…oof. They get her, you know, take care of baby. And she died later. Because there’s no medication or nothing. She get infected and… that’s it.
And in March 93, there’s a big offensive on Konjević Polje, četnici from all sides. We [Muslim paramilitary forces] were in Cerska [near Srebrenica] for three days. From there, četnici were coming and going, to Kamenica, to Zvornik, to Kamenica, and everything in between was destroyed. Now, they’re coming to Cerska, they’d already taken a part of Cerska, we fought there for three days…
you can’t survive. We gonna die. We gotta go somewhere. We go back again to Srebrenica.
And when was that?
‘94. And from ‘93 to ‘95, we were in Srebrenica. God… [we stayed] with this family. And they don’t have food, they don’t have nothing, but at that time, they start dropping the food, United Nations, America, from those big army airplanes. We came one night and the next night they started the drops. Yeah. So you go into the forest and wait. (Laughs). And I was lucky—that night I got big trunk of the food.
We’re in Srebrenica. [My wife] just gave birth to a baby, and the baby was, three, four months old… no maybe a month old, when is Konjević Polje fall and when we came back to Srebrenica. Srebrenica is, from her village, about 20 miles, so…
Srebrenica went up in war, but in fact we [Muslim paramilitary forces] didn’t go to Srebrenica to fight. We went to Srebrenica just to take care of people in Srebrenica. So that they [the Serbian army] wouldn’t come, but they succeeded [in seizing the town]. How they did it, what the politics were, what do I know.
First they took that our commander Naser. He didn’t return. Ejub Golić did return, and he perished when Srebrenica fell. But… it wasn’t good. It wasn’t good…
In Srebrenica, Naser and his army, when the food fell would fall from the planes, it fell in the surrounding hills. So people (civils) needed to pass through Srebrenica [to get to the food drops]. And the Serbian army put up check points to see what you have. They’d check your bags and say “I wanna see what you have. I’m gonna take this, take that, and you can have this.” And next day, they selling that stuff. (Sighs).
I remember once—We [Bosnian military] were fighting on Zeleni Jadar [a mountain plateau] in Srebrenica—and we lost eighteen people. Our front line held for seven days. On the eighth day, the line fell. The next day in Srebrenica, there were cigarettes, coffee, salt, sugar is for sale. Before that, there wasn’t anything, you know. [We found out] that someone cooperated on creating a blockade with the četniks. So you know we lost eighteen, twenty men for a couple of kilograms of salt, sugar, boxes of cigars, some were rich and some didn’t have anything. (Laughs). But that was sad.
I needed to go down into Srebrenica [the town], so I passed through the command where beside it was a pijaca, farmer’s market. There was an older woman, maybe, 70, 75 years old. It’s winter. Cold. She don’t have shoes. There’s just part of the flip flop on her foot. She’s sitting there crying at the people who are selling the salt, sugar, saying give me just “How much you can take between your finger. My grandson he not salted for seven days and he’s two year old.” Yeah.
It’s...it’s bad.
It’s interesting četnici, they were killing people with pistols and selling them food so they can live.
War is fought to destroy the people or for individuals to get rich. Those are the two reasons to fight a were. There isn’t a third reason (Scoffs).
[I saw someone] carrying backpack that said “Deutschland”—this is when the Srebrenica fell— and I watched, a četnik made him take his backpack off and dropped to his knees. He opened his backpack. [The man] says, “Take what you want just let me live.” They [četnici] took everything from the backpack and they (shooting gesture) right between the eye.
And then there was the one woman crying, “Just give me a little bit of salt.” And this guy gave everything and life.
Wow.
Yeah. But look—you can kill life. You can’t kill the soul. In the camps, they tried to kill everything inside me, to crush everything in me, but they couldn’t kill my soul.
To know, these big guys and 150, 180 kilograms. I weighed maybe 60 kilograms [at the time], maybe less than that. They can knock me down. And they started doing everything to get me down, but what they gonna do to get you down? Nothing. You can break my leg, you can do whatever you want, but I’m still standing.
You mentioned the camps, were you in a logor?
Yeah. Six months.
Six months. When?
When Srebrenica fell.
We left, My brother was 14 years old, he couldn’t go with where my mom was going, where my sister, mother were going (sighs), down into Potočare where the UN was. He [my brother] had to go with other civilians [into the woods]. The first to go [into the woods] was the command, the saboteurs, units, civilians. My unit was behind civilians. When we left from Srebrenica, we came across some village over there—Kravice, above Kravice— that is a Serbian village. They killed the most Muslims there. Um… they attacked us there, scattered us around, what do I know about what was happening?
They were beating us down from the air, from the ground, from all over. You do not even know where it [shooting] is coming from. At the end, I’m not hurt at all—the people with me are okay. We went down to the army quarters. We went past the quarters. I saw a lot of dead people. There was Udrč Mountain, and from that mountain, maybe you needed [to go] seven more—no, maybe thirty more—kilometers to reach free territory (deep breath).
But I caught up with the group of people, civilians, who were with my brother. And they told me that my brother got left behind on that hill above Kravice, that he was heavily wounded, so they were not able to carry him. He was left behind. A couple more of these people told me that there was a man who saw his uncle [fall], there was a man who saw his father [fall]—five of them went back. They looked [for them] there and told me, “There are so many corpses, you can’t even count them.” (sighs)
All those bodies. I flipped over so many bodies, I do not even know how many. “Is my brother there? My brother isn’t there.” I couldn’t find him.
One man found his father. Those people told him, “The body was here, the head was there.” That’s how his body separated.
And again, we had no reason to look for anybody anymore. Who died, died. Who lived, lived. We spent the whole day there. It was July 12th. The sun was beating down on us, maybe 40 degrees Celsius [104 degrees Fahrenheit]. Those bodies... ugh. The smell was…
Flies were all over…you know how it goes.
Hell.
We stayed the night there and saw Kravice below— where they picked up Muslim soldiers. We are looking…and that is maybe half of a kilometer away, but there is maybe two kilometers of walking. We are looking down. You hear screaming, yelling— they are beating, killing. All of a sudden, I heard machines, I thought it was a tank, when in fact—I don’t know if you are familiar with the word, it was rovokopač. An excavator.
It came on the street. There was a curve. It did not fall off the street. For ten minutes, it was digging, digging. They brought Muslims, around the pit. They were all lined up shoulder to shoulder (scoffs). I’m thinking, “What’s going on?” We are looking down on them, thinking “What can I do? I only have a rifle. I can’t do anything with a rifle. I don’t even know how many of them are down there.” (coughs) I looked above the street. Bright floodlights turned on, flashlights, I don’t even know how many. I don’t know how familiar you are with those weapons, anti-aircraft machine guns. with the big ammunition like this (gestures hands 10 inches apart). “Uh oh…”
That excavator moved away. People stayed and were still standing around the pit. When the excavator moved maybe twenty, thirty meters away, da, da, da, da, da, da (shooting sounds). It sounded just like a wave in the sea, you know (laughs). Everyone was killed, but was everybody dead? I don’t know.
Then the četniks surrounded them with Kalashnikov, AK-automatic rifles (makes shooting sounds) all over the bodies in the pit. Then, the excavator came back, threw the dirt back in the pit, and went over it about ten times, back and forth—that’s it.
We stayed there [on the mountain top] through the night. But dawn was coming. We needed to leave. We can’t stay there anymore. (Deep breath). We don’t have any water, we have nothing—we’re thirsty, hungry. I am really unfamiliar with that area. I don’t know enough about it, but I am still going to go and try to find water. I tell the people I’m with,
“If I do not return in half an hour, you go on.” (Sighs).
I went to look for water, but I could not find it. On the way back, I heard some noises. The grass was really tall. It was never mowed. You can walk in it, and nobody gonna see you. I hear something…it’s unusual.
I’d never heard it before, [but] I am ready for whatever, četniks or whatever. I slowly [look] (hums)—I see a man lying down. I look around and see the track of blood from where he was walking. I can see that he can do me no harm (laughs).
I approached him. He was holding his neck. He moved his hand away, and I could see that he was slain….He was going down to Kravica, but when they started to kill people around the pit, they didn’t finish slaughtering him…they thought that they’d slaughtered him, but actually he only got cut, you know. He can’t talk, he can’t nothing. He can’t talk, he can’t nothing. And that must have happened like early in the morning. I [lean] in close... wow… maggots, in there crawling…≥ooff, (laughs)...no water no nothing.
What we gonna do?
He get piece of paper, he’s still in his mind, he write asking me—I’m sorry, it’s not very polite to say—asking if I… I could urinate on him to clean his wounds.
(Starts crying).
Eva: You don’t need to continue.
Erna: You don’t need to do anything.
It’s alright.
They try whatever they try but they didn’t succeed. I’m still stronger. I’m still stronger.
Um… I got in, put bandages [on his wounds], and take him to those people [I was with] over there, (deep breath), and we keep carrying him. We find, I don’t know if you’re familiar we found, a little radio, whatever radio.
And we hear on the radio news that Žepa is still fighting.
Pa... That’s a long way to Žepa.
And we got wounded man he is in bad, bad shape. There’s no way we can go. We can’t go to Tuzla anymore—we too far behind and the četnik is coming behind, you know. We can’t get anywhere. It’s the only way—go to Žepa. Yeah, we gotta go there. (Sniffling).
It takes us about maybe 30 hours to get there. We got him to carry. We get there, yeah. That’s, hmm.. 26, 27 July. Yeah that’s about two weeks after Srebrenica fell. We don’t have food, really. We killed wild pig so we could cook it. And we get there. They [military] gave us piece of bread. “Is this real?”
And they separate us. You know you going on this line, you going here, you going there. Second day, they come and ah, you buried, dead, down. A few hours, your buddy die here. All of it. I don’t know those people up there. I’m a stranger to them.
But somehow I get with some other people and they put me on one to guard, to be stažar, [on top of this mountain]. Maybe 100, 150 meters below us it’s an abyss. The village is called Čatić. No one can come up from below, what am I really doing to take care of people there? “Okay, come on, it’ll...” I guess I was tired. I fell asleep. While I was standing, I fell at some point, onto one of those big Montenegrin spruce trees. I fell asleep on the branch…those are big trees.
They came to swap me out, but I wasn’t there. There’s no one where I was. I heard someone yelling. The noise was like I was dreaming it—I wasn’t. I look, and I wasn’t in the sky or on the ground [laughs]. [Someone] call to me, “Hey, what are you doing down there?” I don’t have any idea what I’m doing [laughs]. He threw something down. “Ho, why are you down there?” I wasn’t down there. Last I remember I was up there. How I got to the bottom, I have no idea. Probably when I fell asleep like a light [phew]. [I was hallucinating].
Three days, there was fighting. Četnici came to take my professor, Avdo Palić, the commander from Sarajevo. [I hear] that my wife and kid are to go to Zepa, the bus is taking them.
Okay. The army left, but where are they going to go? The helicopters are going to come? No, they won’t come. It’s going to be like this? No, like that.
I didn’t know anything about that terrain. For me, I had zero understanding. [I was alone]. I met a few people who just told me, “You’re with us. Wherever you are with us, it’ll be okay.” I see they went somewhere to go down [into a valley]. Pa…not even wild goats go down there.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to Serbia.”
“What do you mean Serbia? What are we going to do in Serbia?”
“We’re going to escape to Macedonia,” they say this, that, oh boy… there’s nothing of that.
No one wants to tell me where we came to from Srebrenica. If I were to return, no one to tell me, no one to believe me. I have no idea what I’m going to do down there, in the Drina. [deep breath]. They’re yelling, “I don’t know how to swim. How am I going to cross?” You know how our people are. They’re carrying two wooden boards, I don’t know- Do you know what daske [wood planks] are? To make a raft to—
—So you can cross.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. They made that kind of raft. What type of raft is that? One person couldn’t steer it, but two people could. (Deep breath). But that’s nothing, there’s 700, 800 soldiers there. (Deep breath). It doesn’t look good for us in Serbia. There’s no other land, and nobody’s gonna tell me where I can’t go, ahah. Maybe a day passed by, so one [of our guys] crosses [the river] and they pull each other by rope. And then again, one by one, whooaa. I’m not only tired, but I don’t know what I am anymore. I ask one of the guys if I can take off my clothes (deep breath). I ask him if he can bring my clothes [across the river]. I’m going to swim across the river. “Okay,” he says, “I will.”
I bring my pistol halfway across the Drina, it sinks.
I can’t bring it into Serbia. When I was there last, as soon as I lowered my gun, they [the Serbian army] started shooting from above, from Serbia, da da da da da (makes shooting sounds). The bullets are flying into the water, just like in the films (laughs). But it doesn’t feel like they’re aiming for me (laughs). I kept going, I’m going (deep breath). I cross. There, they can’t [cross anymore]. They got closer, maybe another (deep breath), 100 meters, but how Drina is, that canyon, they start fighting if you come another 100 meters closer. They can’t fight you here, you know, so they wait for me there, before… it took two days to cross.
“Where now?”
“Up the hill to Užice.”
Ah then okay. I have no idea. I’m with them (deep breath) just like (deep breath)…We climb up there, on top of the hill the army is waiting for us (deep breath). They’re cussing, “Where were you balije [derogatory term for Muslims]? We froze up here for a month. It’s been a month since Srebrenica fell, and you still didn’t come. What were you waiting for?” (Deep breath). They picked us up—
So they were waiting for all those who were left [from Srebrenica].
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
(Deep breath) I see... something is not right. Srebrenica fell, which means they were waiting for Žepa to fall. That happened maybe two, three days after Srebrenica. That means after a month, (deep breath), maybe later, now how much that information is accurate, (deep breath), that we [the Bosnian government] sold Srebrenica (deep breath). Uh, because if Srebrenica and Žepa were still standing, then Sarajevo would be standing allegedly. Now I don’t know how accurate that information is. (Deep breath). Yeah.
[The Serbian army] gathers us, the Muslims from Prijepolja in the Serbian army. I remember well. There was Mujo, and Mujo was cussing “balija’s mother.” (Laughs). But there you go, how big that army is, it has an impact on your mind (deep breath). Ah, I know. I was a soldier. I know what a soldier is, you know. They take us down there to a town called Šlijvovica (deep breath). Some kind of barrack. Maybe s sawmill, whatever it was, I don’t know. It was some type of factory. (Deep breath). 700 people… that’s not a small number. (Deep breath). (Gulp).
But the Serbians are commanding us, saying something, arguing something, eh. The soldiers don’t let us lift our heads as soon as we try lifting our head (deep breath)…
They brought some kind of journalist from stations in Beograd andNovi Sad. I hear, “Here is the Yugoslavian People’s Army who freed Muslims from Alijah’s Berets, the Green Berets.” (Laughs).” Yeah. I’m thinking, “Who did you free?”
But there you are, you can’t do anything, okay. The night falls…they shave our heads. They bring the military cars, trucks (sniffles), by 20.
Only 12 can fit in that truck on a normal occasion, but they stuff 20 in there. I come to the front of the line (deep breath). By bad luck, I’m somehow the last one to sit. I climb up into the truck, but one of the Serbian soldiers hits me with a gun, owww. I’m out like a light (laughs). Everyone’s cussing, this one’s leg, this one… eh, do whatever you want. Hit me, throw me like a bag…Drive, drive, drive, oofff… we’re never gonna get there.
“Where are you driving us? If you’re going to kill us, kill us. Why are you waiting?”
It’s already maybe 3 in the morning (I don’t even know when), right before dawn, (deep breath). They bring us there, I see it [the building] says “children’s hospital” (deep breath). It’s empty, there’s nothing. There’s small bunk beds in the room. In the room, two rooms like this one [gestures the size of two small American dining rooms]. The whole space (deep breath). They call us alphabetically. “B. [interviewee’s last name].” Right away, I’m first—
How did they know your name?
You have to tell them, you have to tell them, you know. When they picked us up, they were carrying some kind of list. They jammed me and another 19 [people]… whewww. That’s like half of [this room]. Where are you gonna go? Like [we’re] in a sardine container. (Laughs). Ah. I don’t recognize anyone. I don’t know anyone from Višegrad. Some are from Žepa, some from, I have no idea where they’re from. (Deep breath).
In the morning, there’s no water, there’s no restroom, there’s nothing. In the morning, they open the door, [and point to people] “You, you, you, outside, interrogation.”
“Who are you? What are you? Where are you from?”
There were a few from Žepa before me, they’re not soldiers, they weren’t fighting in the war, they didn’t do anything. They were civilians. [They call me].
“Who are you?”
“I’m this one.”
“Were you a soldier?”
“Yes I was, from May 1 of ‘92.”
“You’re a soldier?”
I said, “I’m not. You came to attack my house, so I came to attack your house.” (Sighs).
“Is that the truth?”
“It is the truth.”
“How many did you kill?”
“I didn’t count.” (Deep breath).
“Do you know how many Serbian mothers have cried [because of this]?”
I said, “Do you know how many Muslim mothers have cried?”
Eh, I couldn’t even stand anymore. They put me in a chair, tied me up. That one [soldier] took my shoes off so I was barefoot. He asks if I talk. They start beating my legs. Do whatever you want, I don’t know. Maybe 4, 5 hours passed (clears throat), they took me out, I couldn’t walk. (Deep breath).
Tomorrow, next day (deep breath), inspection. Something bigger.
“Who are you?” “What are you?”
Blah, blah, blah. Same story, everything the same, repeated. Do whatever you want. “I’m that one,” I don’t deny [anything]. (Scoffs). (Deep breath). Third day. Inspector from Beograd. (Deep breath). Who these people were, where they’re from, (laughs), I only think of myself. Now these are from Belgrade, I guess they said they would finish what the others started. (Deep breath). Same questions, same everything. (Deep breath).
“Were you Naser’s soldier?” (Deep breath).
“I am.”
“Do you know that I’m with Naser,” that četnik said. “That we were together in Milosevic’s guard [together]?”
“I didn’t know that.”
(Deep breath).
“Where’s Naser?”
“In Tuzla,” I said.
“Have you been to Tuzla since?”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t have anything to think.” He said “We were good, we worked together well. But during the peaceful times, he was the same. He was Milosevic’s bodyguard.”
“Take out that pistol,” he said. “Is it true that Naser had the same one like this?”
“Yeah.”
“I know it is, the type he has.” He said, “Here, see.” Prewar Yugoslavia’s, that Republic of Yugoslavia, present from President Milosevic. He said that only two recruits received it, that četnik and Naser.
“I sold it for a good price, I didn’t even get a beating.” (Laughs).
Eh. Nothing. The fourth day comes. Soldier inspection. And here comes some sort of army inspector. (Deep breath). But you don’t know [referring to the interviewers], your father [referring to one of the interviewer’s fathers] knows that Yugoslavia, in the time of peace, they had military reserve exercises. So they [the army] came there around us. (Deep breath) and that captain began to ask me where I’m from. I answered.
“Do you know this one?”
“I know [him].”
“Do you know that one?”
“I know [him].”
“How about the other?”
“I know [him].”
He said, “From where do you know [them]?”
I told him that every year, we went for military exercises (deep breath). (In the time of Yugoslavia, we had military exercises every year).
“Good,” he said, “How was it?”
I said, “The people looked after us well. I didn’t have any problems,” I said. “Why would I have problems?” (Laughs).
He curses. He says, do you see these animals? He said “They don’t have brains, they don’t know anything.” And he starts to curse Milosevic, this, that, Tuđman, this, that, Izetbegović. (Deep breath). He leaves. There’s not [food]…we don’t eat one piece of bread. That’s not bread. That’s leftovers from the Serbian army what they eat, what they can’t eat. Those are pieces. Maybe he bit it 5 times, a piece was left over. He gives it to us to eat. (Deep breath). And that’s just one piece per person. (Deep breath). Ah yeah. (Laughs).
That time passed. They began to take away workers, people to go work. They come to ask me, “Do you want to be a worker?”
I said, “You don’t have any money. Give me Serbian money. You have to pay me to work for someone.”
“Oh, it’s like that?”
“Yes.”
They bring another three, four [soldiers]. “That’s, alright, you can do what you want.”
“I will never work for you. I worked in Belgrade, fed 10 schools in Belgrade. I fed [your] kids, and you treat me like this.
“And for me to work for you now?” I said, “you don’t have money.”
“Hey, you’ll get cigarettes.”
“I don’t need anything. I need to be taken away.”
The parking lot is big since it’s a children’s hospital. There’s lighting in the middle of the parking lot. He tied me to a pole (laughs).
“Tie me up, brother, whatever you want.”
He brings two bottles of water. Like this [tied up], I can’t reach it, there’s no chance. The sun is burning. It kills. It’s pounding from above, the heat’s rising from the pavement. I stood there like that for some time, I guess until I came to my senses, I don’t know. At some point, I woke up. Because in that room where I was, I had burned. There were already blisters all over my face from the sun. (Deep breath). My lips, they were all busted and bloody. Did they beat me up? I have no idea. (Deep breath). Yeah…what are you going to do?
Beatings, beatings every day.
“Come on, finish one. What do you want from me? There’s nothing anymore. I can’t harm anyone anymore. Either kill me or forget me.” (Deep breath). Those work units went to bring one piece of bread per person.
We get not even a cigarette each, but half a cigarette. Whatever those četnici smoked and then threw away and oof… if they would’ve let me just take a drag (laughs). I would have forgotten everything, but no... The next day they ask again,
“Do you want to work?”
“Didn’t I tell you yesterday that you can do whatever you want, crucify me as Holy Jesus, I won’t work (deep breath).”
“They went to clean the river beds.”
I said “Send me to that river, either you’ll kill me or I’ll run away” (Laughs). Eh.
They came, I don’t know if you know what is zvuce… they blindfold you, you put your hands out [gestures to them tied in front of him at the wrists], and then they beat you. Eh now you need to guess who ia beating you, but that’s what the četnici do, (deep breath). It's different when you’re playing a game. No one is going to hit you (laughs) to hurt you, but whatever (deep breath). It’s no use what you guess, it’s not a joke they make of you, its like a game of cat and mouse (deep breath). Pa… do whatever you want, even that passes (deep breath).
The Red Cross came (deep breath), but for them to pass in the complexes of the hospital, you need to cross the bridge over one of those rivers. (Deep breath). They [Serbian army] stopped them [Red Cross officials] before the bridge (deep breath), they’re talking, talking…we’re looking at them. Also below the window is a guard (deep breath). He curses at us. We pull the blinds, and again we see concrete. Jebo majku, I think. They begin to beat us, beat us… yeah. The Red Cross returns, there’s no access (deep breath). The next day, the Red Cross, UN, UNPROFOR, (deep breath), the same story. They return (deep breath). The third day the Red Cross comes… Eh. That was President of the Europe’s Red Cross, Jean Jacques from France.
Yes, mhm, we know him.
(Deep breath). Those two armored UNPROFOR vehicles came and they let them go. And they came to us (deep breath). God forbid if someone said anything. No one is coming to their senses (deep breath). They brought out the ones that weren’t skinny, those that weren’t dead, on the runway, those of us lined up, closed, darkened the windows. Two come to the doors with guns (deep breath). There’s no salvation for us (laughs).
It passes day by day, (deep breath). They gave them a bag of tobacco, I heard. I smell the smoke. Apparently they allowed them to smoke, wow… that smell, nothing in my life smelled like that (laughs). And we don’t have anything. We’re still here. Two are at the door with rifles. Four, five hours, they picked them up, one was from our room. Once everything is gone, food will come for us tomorrow, a truck of food. They [Red Cross] said we have to write letters, that we have to register, that no one will be missing.
But that night, a teenager of 17 years died from hunger. What kind of death is that.
And really the next day, they came and listed us on those cards. They take pictures, they examine us, but there’s nothing (laughs). (Deep breath). They hand out food for lunch wow… (deep breath). You know our bread, cut up in four pieces. That one Thursday, I didn’t see it. Will I become sick from all of this now (laughs). Half I eat it… (deep breath). The fish were whatever, but that canned fish is for two, and a fourth of that was good. After so much time, wow! I felt like not even a million soldiers could kill me.
They allowed us to write letters. The whole day they [Red Cross] stayed. (Deep breath). And that Jacques, he went from room to room, he was asking around what family we have, where they are, what we have. Everyone tells their story (deep breath). It’s time for them to go, and they pick up all [of our letters].
There, they [my family] told me that they never received my letter that I wrote. They didn’t even know I was alive. It was maybe only the third time he [Jacques] managed to get through (deep breath)…[Time] passed like that… the winter came. There wasn’t winter, the real winter. Kopaonik (a mountain in Serbia known for snow) in Serbia, I’m not sure if you’re familiar with that place—It’s cold.
The complex where we are doesn’t have…doesn’t have heat, no blankets, nothing. I grew a beard, hair uncut, clothing torn, not bathed, no showering ever (Laughs). (Deep breath). I think the 15th of December comes, they bring us things to shave and they took us out to the river to take our clothes off. It’s so cold your heart is bursting. You take off your shirt to shave—I can’t shave with that, one razer blade.
Five minutes, shave or whatever (laughs), how can I shave….What am I gonna mess up? And like that I take the blade in my hand and shave myself like a peasant (laughs). Somehow its good. They took us inside. The 19th of December, the Red Cross came.
“We have good news.”
I’m thinking, “What kind of news?” (Deep breath).
“That concentration camp stayed in Užica and this one on Kopaoniku, that’s 720 people.” (Deep breath). People will be sent to Europe, America, Australia (deep breath). When it’s gonna start, we still weren’t sure but we got the green light that it will be happening (deep breath).”
You believe it, and you don’t believe it.
[Long pause].
New Years passes (deep breath). Nothing is happening. Their [Serbian] Christmas, the 7th of January, that passes too and nothing. (Deep breath). The 10th of January, the Red Cross comes. They’re carrying papers. (Deep breath). It reads this, that, this, that. America, 110 people. And I’m there. Good.
The next 100 people to Europe. France. Germany. The next to Australia. (Deep breath). Like that… all of us.
Eh now, how are they going to transport us. We were in bad, bad condition.
Yeah.
You don’t have clothes, you don’t have anything. The first group went to America, 50 people. The other group went to France, 50 people. When will I go? Fuck. Will I ever go? (scoffs).
Twenty five people go to Australia. Damn. (Deep breath). The 24th of January (deep breath) in the morning, on the speaker it reads this name, that name, this name, that name. They read my name off as well.
In 5 minutes, outside. (Deep breath). They file us into the bus (deep breath) I don’t know where we’re going or what. No one knows. (Deep breath). I was hoping that it wouldn’t be in Kopaonik (Serbian mountain). Gruha gruha gruha gruha (exploding sound of a canon or grenade). (Deep breath). We came. I see it looks like Belgrade. They want us to go outside (laughs).
But we’re not going to Belgrade. Surčin is before Belgrade. At the airport. (deep breath). There, wow… there the army is waiting. Weapons at the ready. There’s regular travelers too… regular people, someone is cursing us, some are sorry, some you know… the soldiers just say, “Don’t speak.”
Mhm.
Good. Loading us, loading us. Actually, they had us sit down at the airport. The people from Red Cross are reading our names, carrying our bags. They are going in order-- I finally got called. I opened the bag. There is nothing but those papers. I see eleven dollars. Woowww! (Laughs). One guy asked, “Can we buy something with this money here at the airport?” A soldier started cursing at us. How can we buy anything? They are not letting us do anything. (Deep breath).
They first boarded their civilians that were waiting for a flight. (Deep breath). We finally had our turn to board. (Deep breath). We were all patted down, but they already patted us down on the bus as soon as we got on and again when we got off. (Laughs). And now they were patting us down again. Oh well, doesn’t matter. They’re searching, searching, and finally, they searched me as well. (Deep breath). At that time in Belgrade, they were not boarding from inside the airport, through the boarding bridge—you had to use stairs to get on the airplane.
He pushed my back with a rifle. I had one foot on the stairs. I told him, “You beat me for six months, you maybe broke my ribs, my jaw, my teeth, but you could not kill me. You son of a bitch.” (Deep breath). He cocked the rifle. I said, “Go ahead, do what you want.” I climbed up—once I got to the top of the stairs, I told him, “Zelena Beretka [Green Beret] survived. You couldn’t do anything to me.”
We don’t know where we are going. Nobody is telling us anything. (Laughs). We took off, but we were separated from the civilians. They probably had their secret agents (deep breath) keeping an eye on us. Then the stewardess (deep breath) began to talk, “Welcome to the flight of JAT-o. Our flight to Ankara will last…” What are we going to do in Ankara, in Greece? (Deep breath). I see through the airplane curtains that they are giving out juice to the civilians, but there is nothing for us. (Sigh). An hour and a half, two hours, I’m not sure how long a flight from Belgrade to Ankara is, but I know it’s far.
We landed in Ankara. I saw through the airplane window that they had their military waiting for us, like we were terrorists. (Laughs). The civilians got off, and then it was our turn. They were calling us one by one. Of course we are not going to all go at once like sheep. Two people can’t walk out of the door, only one person can at a time. (Laughs). Come on. That Greek military acted just like Serbians. They waited for us with cocked rifles. They drove us to the airport and seated us on the benches. They gave us all tickets. I see that I am going to New York. (Laughs). That’s good. (Laughs). That’s good. We waited about two hours.
They also did not let us buy anything with those eleven dollars.
Why did they give you only eleven dollars?
(Laughs). Well they didn’t know if we could buy something with it or not. Hey, they gave that to us and okay. Yeah. (Laughs). They don’t let us do anything. When the time comes, some man arrives, who does not speak Bosnian nor Serbian nor English—I don’t even know which language he was speaking in—
Ah, then, we are going to America, okay. “When the airplane arrives, you will follow me, okay?” the man says. We are travelling with the papers that Red Cross provided us with. We don’t have any other documents. (Deep breath). Okay, we boarded the airplane. It was huge, a big one Boeing 737 (laughs), phewww. (Laughs). Where are we going? Where will we…
Oh wait, did you ever go on an airplane? Before that.
Ne. No. Well, in Yugoslavia, we did not need to.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
(Laughs). Well even if you are travelling to Russia or to… You would use a transatlantic ship to go to Africa, Australia, but not many people from Yugoslavia were travelling anywhere.
(Deep breath). Anyway. The plane took off. The stewardess was speaking English, yeah sure, I have no idea what she’s talking about. (Laughs).
Back then, you could smoke in airplanes.
Oh really? [Laughs].
(Laughs).
Did they give you cigarettes?
No, no, no. Listen to this now. (Laughs). The duty-free cart is coming by.
Ahah, okay.
“Somebody wanna buy something?” Who knows what she is talking about, but I figured out that I could buy cigarettes (laughs). And I bought a box of cigarettes, (long pause). The airplane wasn’t full. I ended up in the back. I fainted when I lit the cigarette. (Laughs).
When I got back to my senses (sigh of relief). Wowww. They were handing out dinner, and they gave me some. I was eating with my eyes, but I could not eat. I guess my body lost control over food. (Deep breath). I ate-- I could tell it was good, but I had no idea what it was. (Laughs). Some passengers were waving at others, some were talking to each other.
Yeah.
We were totally lost. In New York. The guy with us began to read our names again in New York. “This one is going here, this one is going…” Three of us were going to Nashville.
Were refugees only going to one place or…?
No, no, no. A hundred of us came, 3 came to Nashville. The rest of them in Chicago, Florida, Texas, Iowa, Indiana... everywhere. Okay. Someone comes, I think it was a Croat. He didn’t introduce himself but he was the translator, but I, I could tell who was a Serb and who was a Croat because I was in one army and in the other, I am familiar with them enough (deep breath).
They told us the flight to Nashville was delayed. In New York, it was really cold. And the snow— you can’t open your eyes. We are watching. They said, “You three are going to a motel tonight. In the morning, you will go to Nashville.” Okay. (Deep breath). They drove us from La Guardia to some motel— I don’t know if it was some Super 8 motel, but it was good.
Ah I got there. Wowww. A bathroom after six months.
To take a shower. What a feeling.
I fell asleep like… (laughs). And in the morning, the telephone rang. I guess they were waking us up-- we have no idea. Someone is banging on the door. I didn’t care about who was banging. But we didn’t know who was doing that. Then, I hear that person trying to unlock the door, so I opened up. He is yelling something. I don’t care, I have no idea what you are talking about.
That guy waited for us at the airport. But he was not there at the motel. ...So he contacted the guy who was at the door. He told him we don’t speak English and to come pick us up in his van and take us to the airport. And he was waiting for us at the airport for real. (Deep breath). They boarded us on the airplane, and told us, “Somebody will wait for you in Nashville. They will be holding up your names, whoever is waiting for you. Catholic Caritas.”
An old man, maybe around 60 years old, (deep breath), is holding my name, and two more women were holding the names of the other two guys.
Mhm…
He is yelling, “Hi, bye, hi, bye.” I have no idea what he is saying.
You did not talk at all.
Nothing.
Oh my gosh.
He picked us up from Nashville. In New York, it was cold, and here [in Nashville] it was hot— it was summer here. People are wearing shorts, short sleeve shirts. What kind of country is this? (Laughs).
Well okay. He drove us from the airport, dropped off the other two guys somewhere in Jefferson, and dropped us two off on White Bridge.
At that moment, a man named Salko joined us. He was from Zenica and also came before the war. He was a child from a mixed marriage—whether his father was a Serb or mother a Croat, I don’t know.
And he said, “We wish you a warm welcome, welcome to America.”
Okay. He opened an old refrigerator and said, “You have all kinds of food. Here are the keys to the apartment. Somebody will come tomorrow to vaccinate you for tuberculosis, okay. Then, they will take you to fill out papers for social security.”
And then we were supposed to fill out papers for our family too. And now, did he not understand well or did we not understand well? My daughter and wife were supposed to come in a month, but instead, they arrived nine months later.
Oh really?
I am telling you, somebody made a mistake. Was it him or us while we were filling out those papers for social security, whatever. It is what it is… Some man arrived, I did not know who. One of them came, I remember him really well. Slavko was busy working, so that man came with checks for us. He doesn’t know Bosnian. I see he has ten dollars for me, ten dollars for the other guy. What am I gonna do with that money? I have no idea where the bank is, nor what it looks like. No car, nothing. After about four or five days passed, Slavko visited us again. He asked, “Did they take you to fill out those papers?” “Yes,” I replied, “Some woman was there as a translator. We don’t know her.”
And then they gave us those shots. Whatever they gave us, I have no idea. (Deep breath). “Did you sign that?” “Yes, we did,” I replied. Whatever we had to sign, I had no idea. But I do not know the woman who was translating… I saw her then and never again. That passed, uh, yeah… Slavko came and we showed him food. Americans were stopping by once in a while, we have no idea who they are or where they are from. They were bringing us food, tons of food.
But were you alone at that time?
No, no.
Oh, okay.
[Name omitted] and these two brothers lived separately.
And those two were also from Yugoslavia?
From the concentration camp.
Ah okay, okay.
Yeah.
He [Slavko] said, “Well here. You have those checks—ten dollars to cash out. I am busy, I can’t take you, but I will call that guy who drove you earlier.” Then he said that guy was Vietnamese. What Vietnamese man? Slavko said, “Well, that guy who gave you checks, he is Vietnamese, he is from Vietnam.” Slavko said he was going to get in touch with him and tell him to take us to the bank to cash our checks in. Monday came, and there he was. Phew… he drove some old Buick that was falling apart. Two of us went in the Buick— the other guy sat in the front and I sat in the back. The car was so old that its wheels were about to fall off.
Oh wow.
We went to [a bank] down by Charlotte. I opened an account there later. He took us there, he was muttering with the cashier. I showed him my checks. (Deep breath). Eh, the Vietnamese guy picked up the checks in a hurry. “Let’s go, come on.” They don’t want to cash our checks. Whose checks they are, where they are from, God knows. Then he took us to the Union Bank near Church Street. They don’t cash our checks there either, same story. I don’t understand much, but I know something isn’t right.
Nothing. He picked us up from there. He picks up the two of us, takes us to Gala, the Catholic Caritas. They were our sponsors (deep breath), they paid for our plane tickets here.
That was Catholic Caritas?
Yeah, yeah.
Okay, okay.
When we got there, I saw the Vietnamese guy talking to the old guy who was waiting for us at the airport. Eh, they are mumbling something. They can say whatever they want, I couldn’t care less. (Laughs). Uh. Whatever, he took our checks and folded them up in his pocket. He gave ten dollars to [name omitted] and ten dollars to me.
Yeah.
The Vietnamese man brought us back to the apartment.
(Deep breath). There’s food, there’s everything. What am I going to do? I was in the concentration camp for six months. What am I supposed to do? I was in a concentration camp for six months. I want to go outside in public. I don’t know where to go outside, nor… (deep breath). Vahid and I start heading towards White Bridges towards Target.
Walking?
Yeah. (Laughs).
And we arrive at Target. It wasn’t Target, it was just getting to be Target. It was that ITT [Tennessee] Tech.
We got there… Oof, we walked so far that we couldn’t walk anymore, we were out of shape and so tired. How are we going to make it back? Let’s go back slowly. We got back. (Deep breath). Then… we met some people from Bosanska Krupa. They arrived to America before us. We met some people from Sarajevo as well.
Who told them about us? Catholic Caritas or someone else maybe, but they found out that we were here and came the ones from Sarajevo came to meet us.
We introduced ourselves to each other. Then the people from Krupa came to meet us, and we introduced ourselves to each other too. Heaven. You have someone to talk to.
(Laughs).
But how long were they here before you? Did those people come before you?
Yes, before us.
Did they know a little about Nashville?
Well the people from Krupa had a car, were already working, and they found jobs for us.
Yeah, mhm.
And this guy from Sarajevo was working with them. (Deep breath). And that’s how our life in America started.
How did you learn English?
Yeah. This is what happened. When these people from Krupa came, (deep breath), they asked, “Would you like to work?” Of course I would. I have no money. I have no… How much money I’ll be making? I don’t even know what the value of five and a half dollars per hour is, so it’s good. (Laughs).
So you don’t have a choice. You have to learn English however you can.
Yes. He picks us up; they lived in Madison and we were at White Bridge. Those places are not close.
He comes and says, “I will come in the morning to pick you up and take you to work.” At that time, the firm was where the Titans Stadium is now.
Yeah
Yeah. (Deep breath). There, they gave us some papers. “Sign, sign, sign.”
[I asked] “What am I gonna be doing?”
He said, “We assemble beds.”
I never assembled a bed before, I was a baker. Fuck your bed. (Laughs).
[Laughs].
I had been working there for seven days…one month…time is passing by, and he tells me, “Don’t worry, you will be paid well.” Okay, I notice he is not serious. Eh, I have no idea. It doesn’t make sense, there is no mathematics there.
(Laughs). That training passes. I see the manager comes to ask him. I don’t understand anything. I just watch the cartoon. Bugs Bunny, Tom and Jerry, (Laughs). So he says, “I did have that PBS channel and….” I don’t know yet what this channel is, whatever. (Laughs).
He says the boss came to ask,
“Are you ready to take over your position at work?” I
said, “Yes I am, yeah, yeah.”
I said I can do that with my eyes closed. It’s so easy to put it together, oooh, he told me, “It is like you’ve been doing this for years.” I see that he’s talking with him. I don’t understand what he is saying. (Laughs). I learned, “hi, bye.” My name. That’s it (Laughs).
(Laughs). That’s it. And he pretended he knew what he was doing, even though he has no idea, just like me. His English is worse than mine (Laughs). Ahah… five and a half, now he says that the hourly wage is going to be six dollars.
It’s good… I’m glad (laughs). One day I make seventy of those beds, the second day ninety, the third day… a week passes, that guy comes back. He asks [name omitted] again to pay me per bed. I don’t have any idea, nor what that is, pay me how you want. (laughs).
Yeah (Laughs).
I watched an English cartoon, but I remembered them from Bosnia. When they say something, I write it. I’m writing in Bosnian, I…. what they’re saying in English. (laughs). I'm starting to understand, little by little. That’s how I learned [English].
Step by step.
Yeah, yeah. Then 9 months passed, my wife came, my child. [My] child in kindergarten, I don’t know if they told you about the problems with—
—When was the last time you had seen each other?
When Srebrenica fell, the 11th of July 1995 to September 1996. (Deep breath).
And how old was [your] daughter?
Four years old.
Wow.
And this kindergarten geez… they’re calling from kindergarten, the child doesn’t know anything, doesn’t understand. She’s not playing, she is afraid to play with anybody. They call, I don’t understand. But that one from Sarajevo worked with me, she’s pretending that she knows English. She doesn’t know [English] she knows it worse than I do.
But did she also come with Catholic Charities and all, when you signed that document?
When I needed to fill out the social security, I needed to fill it out for them then so that they can come, and they would come maybe a month later. But someone misunderstood. I’ve already figured it out what the old man is asking for, “family, family”, what family… He brings the papers, he is hitting himself on the head, he calls Slavko, “What is this?” Slavko says, “Who made the mistake?” “I don’t know who made the mistake, I told you when you told us that you’re going to take us for vaccines, and you took us.” “Shhh.” They vaccinated us and took us to Social Security. We signed the papers, but from there, they needed to take us to Homeland Security to sign off on our arrival. But no one took us.
But did you know where your family was, your wife and daughter?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, we heard from each other on the telephone but then, it was one minute, two dollars. (Laughs)…Yeah, one minute two dollar.
Wow.
That’s how we heard from one another. Not a lot. A few times. But we wrote letters just like the Amish. (Laughs). That’s how it was.
Now you’re here.
Now we’re here.
[Long pause].
Is there anything you want Americans and student to know about the war?
Yeah. (Laughs). They first need to learn the history of America and then learn the history of the world, especially in conflict areas. You went to school here, they part of it. They don’t teach the real history.
And is there anything specific that you want the people in the Balkans to know of the war, or what happened?
They need to know that regular people don’t start wars. Only hot heads that ate bread and led the people who believed in them… and that needs to be sorted now, as far as the Balkans, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Serbia, Montenegro are concerned, that’s a lot of nationalism. The people need to get rid of this nationalism. The people will live as they lived. Everyone from Serbia will go to the beach in Croatia, like those who went, and Slovenians are going to go to Macedonia and who is where. Bosnians were throughout Yugoslavia in every area. And people like people aren’t, because you only need to get rid of those hot headed nationalists.
For example, Bosnia. How many years passed that the war ended and those three main sides are still repeating the same story, year after year. These wrong the Serbs, those wrong the Croats, those wrong the Muslims, ah Muslims, Croats, Serbs, they live together without… but the people are dumb, I don’t know why they pick them year after year. Do they pay like they do in Serbia, Bosnia, Croatia. When it comes time for the elections, okay, I have a thousand marks, I need a thousand votes. And I’ll go from house to house, here’s 100 marks for you, here’s a 100 marks for you, there’s no freedom of choice. That’s the biggest problem.
[Long pause],
Thank you for talking with us.
It’s okay. It’s alright.
Hey, it’s alright. (Laughs).
Thumbnail image from David Brauchli/Sygma via Getty Images