Past my bedtime...make it quick.
For some reason today I suddenly remembered Srebrenica. I spent a lot of time there in 2001. It is really a beautiful valley. The hills though were full of abandoned and destroyed Muslim villages. The factory where the unlucky Dutch Battalion had been contained a sawmill where a drunken Serb, late of Sarajevo but at that time maintaining his family in Belgrade, milled lumber that he almost certainly bought from illegal loggers cutting lands owned by missing or murdered Muslims. With his breath stinking from moonshine plum brandy he extolled to me the virtues of General Mladic, telling me how he was one of the greatest generals of all time. according to him even Colin Powell had praised the great man. Mladic, he said, saved Europe from Muslim fundamentalism by doing what the man claimed he didn't do in Srebrenica (i.e. overseeing the slaughter of 7000 men and boys). It was amazing to see him on the one hand deny the atrocity of Srebrenica and at the same time praise it. He was among the most disgusting people I have ever been forced to spend time with.
My most striking memories are of the day the widows came to the old factory where the Dutch peacekeeping battalion had been. For most of these women--hundreds of them--it was the last place they had seen their brothers, sons and fathers before the Serbs slaughtered them. One woman in particular struck me. As she walked up the road, she eyed a place off to the east side and moved into the tall grass to kneel down and touch the ground. She went there by herself and said nothing to anyone. I suppose that was the spot where she said goodbye to someone.
That day we made the Serbs provide most of the security. I spent the night before sleeping on the floor of the old bus maintenance facility. At about 4:00 am bus loads of Republika Serbska Special Police dressed in their strange purple camouflage rolled up. These men were from the same units that had been there in 1995 for the massacre. I had to wonder how many had been part of it. They moved up into the hills and secured the outer perimeter leaving the more ordinary and less offensive police to secure the site near the factory. The ceremony it self was not long. The mufti from Sarajevo lead prayers and made a very powerful speech. I imagine the text is on the internet some place. Now there is a memorial at the site. I haven't seen it. I wonder if I'll ever be back there.
The lingering cruelty of some of the Serbs in the area was shown by the people of Kravica. Along side the road in Kravica is an old warehouse where perhaps hundreds of Muslim men had been held after the fall of Srebrenica. The Serbs slaughtered them by tossing grenades through the windows. I think some survived by escaping in the chaos or playing dead until they escaped from burial sites. In any case, that day in full view of the buses of widows, as an insult to the murdered several large hogs impaled on spits were leaned up against the wall of that building.
For some reason today I suddenly remembered Srebrenica. I spent a lot of time there in 2001. It is really a beautiful valley. The hills though were full of abandoned and destroyed Muslim villages. The factory where the unlucky Dutch Battalion had been contained a sawmill where a drunken Serb, late of Sarajevo but at that time maintaining his family in Belgrade, milled lumber that he almost certainly bought from illegal loggers cutting lands owned by missing or murdered Muslims. With his breath stinking from moonshine plum brandy he extolled to me the virtues of General Mladic, telling me how he was one of the greatest generals of all time. according to him even Colin Powell had praised the great man. Mladic, he said, saved Europe from Muslim fundamentalism by doing what the man claimed he didn't do in Srebrenica (i.e. overseeing the slaughter of 7000 men and boys). It was amazing to see him on the one hand deny the atrocity of Srebrenica and at the same time praise it. He was among the most disgusting people I have ever been forced to spend time with.
My most striking memories are of the day the widows came to the old factory where the Dutch peacekeeping battalion had been. For most of these women--hundreds of them--it was the last place they had seen their brothers, sons and fathers before the Serbs slaughtered them. One woman in particular struck me. As she walked up the road, she eyed a place off to the east side and moved into the tall grass to kneel down and touch the ground. She went there by herself and said nothing to anyone. I suppose that was the spot where she said goodbye to someone.
That day we made the Serbs provide most of the security. I spent the night before sleeping on the floor of the old bus maintenance facility. At about 4:00 am bus loads of Republika Serbska Special Police dressed in their strange purple camouflage rolled up. These men were from the same units that had been there in 1995 for the massacre. I had to wonder how many had been part of it. They moved up into the hills and secured the outer perimeter leaving the more ordinary and less offensive police to secure the site near the factory. The ceremony it self was not long. The mufti from Sarajevo lead prayers and made a very powerful speech. I imagine the text is on the internet some place. Now there is a memorial at the site. I haven't seen it. I wonder if I'll ever be back there.
The lingering cruelty of some of the Serbs in the area was shown by the people of Kravica. Along side the road in Kravica is an old warehouse where perhaps hundreds of Muslim men had been held after the fall of Srebrenica. The Serbs slaughtered them by tossing grenades through the windows. I think some survived by escaping in the chaos or playing dead until they escaped from burial sites. In any case, that day in full view of the buses of widows, as an insult to the murdered several large hogs impaled on spits were leaned up against the wall of that building.