by Anda Vranjes
“But in this short amount of time that we’ve been here, I can honestly say that I haven’t seen anything of the sort.”
“Between us, Tito has his own agenda. He needs full Allied support, especially if I am right and he plans on taking over Yugoslavia if this war ever ends.” Musulin replied. “And I’d bet that he doesn’t plan on reinstating the monarchy.”
“We wouldn’t let him set up a communist government. He’ll be sorely disappointed when this war is over,” Rajacich added sipping his coffee.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” answered Musulin. “Stalin is backing him. And although I can’t prove it, there’s some shady stuff going on within the Allies too. There are some Tito sympathizers within our ranks. I sometimes wonder if they are for Tito as an ally against the Germans or for communism in general. I guess we will have to wait and see. The truth has a way of coming out on its own.”
O’Donnell joined them as they finished their breakfast. He was curious to hear what the next steps were going to be.
“Good morning,” he said as they stood up.
“Good morning,” they replied.
“I’m wondering what the next step is. And I’d like to offer up my services if you need any assistance in getting things going.”
“I’d say our first course of action is to get this airfield ready for the C-47s to land. So if you’ve got the inclination, helping them on the field would be a good start.
“We are going to contact headquarters with a status update and then we will get together with Mihailovich and some of the airmen to formulate a final plan. You can join us when we do,” Musulin replied.
“I plan on it, Lieutenant. You can count on me.”
Jibilian contacted headquarters first. When headquarters confirmed the code, Jibilian and Musulin reported their findings
“There are approximately twenty-six sick or wounded soldiers that need immediate medical attention. Rajacich is currently providing medical supplies to the doctor who is treating the soldiers and peasants.
“However, there are substantially more downed airmen than we initially anticipated. We originally assumed close to one hundred and fifty. But after a thorough assessment of the situation, we are finding that that number will be closer to two hundred and fifty. And quite possibly much more than that in outlying villages,” Musulin reported. They continued with their report until they were satisfied that headquarters had a thorough understanding of the dire situation at hand.
They knew that there was a lot of opposition to their mission. The moles that had found their way into the SOE were determined to continue to mislead the British about Mihailovich. They were not about to let the three OSS agents ruin their plans. So Jibilian, Rajacich and Musulin reported, in great detail, what they could to ensure the support of the Americans in Bari.
Later that day, Musulin, Jibilian and Rajacich held a meeting with a committee consisting of several airmen, Mihailovich and his representatives to formulate a plan of evacuation. They needed to evacuate the men without alerting the Germans that surrounded the area.
Mihailovic listened as the Americans planned. After some thought, through his interpreter, he added, “My men have been instructed to guard Pranjane with their lives if necessary.
“The First and Second Ravna Gora troops are charged with guarding the plateau. They will have approximately ten thousand troops distributed throughout the villages within a fifteen mile radius of the airfield.” Mihailovich paused for a moment as the men absorbed the information.
“They will block all the roads and paths leading here, even the cow paths. In addition, they will enforce a total ban on movement to and from here. This will ensure that the Germans will not be anywhere near the field. As an added precaution, we will have two thousand of our best armed men spread around the immediate vicinity of the airstrip.”
The magnitude of the number of troops that he could rally in such a short time was staggering to O’Donnell. And that they would risk their own lives to ensure that no American life would be lost in this mission amazed him. He knew that the Chetniks were committed to the Allied cause, but it never ceased to amaze him how committed the Serbs were to the Americans.
“That’s good to hear, General Mihailovic,” replied O’Donnell. “That should provide enough ground protection in the event we are discovered.” He turned his attention to Musulin. “How are we going to get this many people out without being discovered?”
“We have looked at all the evacuation possibilities. We’ve determined that the evacuation has to be a night operation. That will provide us the initial cover from the enemy. But because of the extremely hazardous conditions and limited night visibility, we will have to keep the number of rescued airmen per C-47 at a minimum. We are looking at roughly twelve men per plane.”
“Twelve men? We would need over twenty flights just to get everyone out of here,” said one of the council members.
“That gives the Nazis twenty chances to shoot us down and kill us,” said another.
“We need to keep the load on the planes as light as possible. So in addition to keeping the number of soldiers to a minimum, the planes will not carry any additional equipment or armaments. And the fuel supply will be kept to the absolute minimum as well. That means each mission will have to be flown with extreme precision and accuracy. Otherwise, they will run out of gas before they make it back to Italy.”
The council agreed that although the plan was not ideal it was their only hope. O’Donnell was skeptical, but he understood the necessary precautions that had to be placed to increase the chances of success.
“The airmen will be divided into six groups of forty to fifty men. Each group will be housed in a different nearby village and under the command of its own officer. This should minimize the danger in case the Germans discover us and stage a surprise attack,” Musulin continued. “Each group will have a predetermined time of arrival to the airfield.”
The council ironed out some of the last minute details and prepared to disperse. Musulin stopped them before they left.
“We need everyone’s help and the grace of God for this to work. I know you are all up for the challenge. It’s time to go home boys.”
As preparations for the upcoming evacuation continued, O’Donnell saw General Mihailovic and his interpreter walking through camp. He had just finished speaking with Musulin, Jibilian and Rajacich. Compelled to have a few words alone with him, O’Donnell ran up to the General.
“Excuse me General Mihailovic,” shouted O’Donnell as he approached them.
General Mihailovic stopped and turned to face O’Donnell. He smiled at the young soldier. “Yes?”
Not sure of what he was going to say, O’Donnell decided it was best to speak from his heart. “General Mihailovic, sir, I hope I can have a few minutes of your time.”
“You may. Let’s sit beneath that tree. I could use a short rest,” the general replied with a grin.
They sat under the tall tree. It was hot and humid, but the shade, combined with the slight breeze, offered some relief from the heat. O’Donnell wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“General, I want to thank you and your men, and your people for all that has been done for me and the other soldiers. You have all done everything you could to ensure our safety. I don’t even know if the words thank you are sufficient.”
“You’re welcome. But this is what we do. We do not abandon our allies, even if they have abandoned us,” he replied
“I am not really sure how that all happened,” O’Donnell replied, “but I see now that it is a mistake.”
“Yes, the Allies have made a mistake. And unfortunately, our people are suffering because of it. But, we believe that the Americans will see the error they have made and return their support to us.”
“Why are you helping us?”
“You are young, maybe that is why it is difficult for you to understand. We are a small nation of hardworking, honest people. All we have ever wanted was to li
ve our lives in the kind of freedom that Americans have. Unfortunately, we have always had to fight for it. And pay for it with our blood.
“For thousands of years, we have had one enemy or another invade and attack us. And each time, we battled our way to freedom. We may not have much in the way of material riches, but we have our Serbian Orthodox faith, identity, families, honor and pride. For most of us, that is the highest form of wealth.”
He paused as he took off is hat and ran his fingers through his hair. Wiping his own forehead, he said, “Is this how the weather is in America?”
“Summer is summer. We have it pretty much the same back home,” laughed O’Donnell.
“We are more similar than we are different. Language is our greatest barrier,” commented the General.
“General, you know that at this point, the Allies still think you are collaborating with the Nazis. I am not sure if that is going to change, even with this evacuation.
“But I think the evacuation might get them to allow for your safety to be taken into consideration. If we defeat the Germans, Tito will do everything in his power to take credit for it. And then your safety will be in jeopardy. I will talk to Musulin to see if we can arrange for you to be evacuated along with us. It could be your only chance for survival.”
Mihailovic shook his head. He looked thoughtfully towards the sky as he formulated his thoughts. Looking at O’Donnell, he spoke quietly.
“I appreciate your offer, very much. And it humbles me to think you value my life so. However, I must refuse. I am a Serb, loyal to the Serbian people. My place, dead or alive, is with them.”
CHAPTER 17
August 9, 1944
DAYS OF FOCUSED preparation for the rescue evacuation had passed. They were putting on the finishing touches and prepared to wait for this evening’s arrival of the C-47s.
O’Donnell, Musulin, Jibilian, Rajacich and a hundred others took a short break to relax as sheep and cows grazed nearby. The animals mewed quietly as the warm summer breeze bristled the leaves of the nearby trees. The airstrip looked about as good as it was going to get. They had leveled it as much as possible and extended its length to provide a relatively safe landing for the planes.
But even with all of the preparations, it was still a field that was, just six days ago, used to graze animals.
O’Donnell lay on his back, with a blade of grass between he teeth. He closed his eyes and thought of his conversation with General Mihailovic. His impression of the man never faltered.
It was easy to see why the Serbian people adored him.
He sat up and watched as the Chetniks and airmen shared their last moments with each other. Over the course of their stay with the Serbian Chetniks, the airmen formed close relationships and bonds with them.
Groups of men gathered around the field, some laughing as they reminisced about their adventures together. Others cried openly, knowing that this was probably the last time they would see each other. O’Donnell watched Wallace hug Branko as tears streamed down his face.
There would be little time tonight for farewells. Time was pinpoint precise for success. So they were taking advantage of this short time to say their farewells.
O’Donnell laughed as he saw several airmen take off their shoes and pieces of clothing and give them to the peasants and Chetniks. Shoes and good clothes were in critical supply. With harsh winter conditions just around the corner, the Americans thought there was not better gift they could give their new friends than a warm pair of shoes that would prevent frostbite.
The Serbs gave gifts in return. They handed them small trinkets for the airmen to remember them by. It was a heartwarming sight for O’Donnell. This was true good human nature.
The farewells continued as O’Donnell and others rested lazily near the airfield. O’Donnell was slowly drifting off to sleep when he heard the buzzing sound of engines in the distance.
He sat up quickly and looked out towards the sound. Everyone else heard the planes and scattered toward the tree line. O’Donnell hid the sun from his eyes and focused on the planes.
They were flying low, about one thousand feet above ground. He immediately recognized them as three German Stuka dive-bombers. And they were flying directly over the airfield.
“Cover!” O’Donnell shouted as they all scrambled to hide in surrounding bushes and trees.
“They’ll see the airfield! It’s over! All for nothing!” shouted one of the soldiers.
O’Donnell’s heart sank as the planes neared. If they saw the airstrip, they would definitely report it and the Nazis would attack immediately. His hopes plummeted. All this time, they’d been able to hide everything from the Nazis. Now, just hours away from rescue, they were about to be discovered.
He closed his eyes and prayed that somehow, someway, God would prevent them from seeing the airfield. When he opened his eyes, he was shocked.
The cows and sheep that were grazing nearby had moved from those grassy fields to the airfield. They were spread out across the entire area, like they were trying to hide the area from the bombers!
The planes flew overhead and everyone was immobilized, afraid that breathing alone would give them away to the Germans. The planes passed the airfield and continued flying towards their destination.
“Do you think the cows covered it well enough?” Wallace asked as he walked up to O’Donnell.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell from this viewpoint. And it’s too late to warn Bari, pick up is only hours away, replied O’Donnell. “I said a prayer as they approached us. I guess you can say it was answered.”
“I hope you’re right, O’Donnell.”
As a precaution, Mihailovich sent his troops to check on the German garrisons that surrounded Pranjane. They looked for any sign of increased activity that indicated that the airfield had been discovered.
When they returned, they reported nothing out of the ordinary. From the looks of things, the Germans had been fooled again. How long could their luck hold out?
At nightfall, the prearranged groups assembled at the airstrip. Tensions were high as they anxiously awaited the arrival of the rescue planes. At precisely ten o’clock they heard the engines.
The ground crew flashed the signal. They blinked three dashes “Oscar”. The plane responded with “kilo.” They scrambled and lit the fire pots.
The wind had been shifting all day. O’Donnell hoped it wouldn’t shift towards the trees. If it did, a landing would be impossible.
“Hold on, wind. Just hold on. Don’t disappoint us now,” O’Donnell whispered as he watched the first plane approach. It began its slow descent towards the runway.
“It’s going too fast. They are going to overshoot the field,” said a pilot standing near O’Donnell.
They watched as the plane flew over the field and continued on.
“No!” hissed O’Donnell. “Come on! Not after all of this!”
The second and third planes also misjudged the strip. Hope quickly plummeted. The fourth plane approached quickly. Everyone held their breath and hoped for a landing.
The plane began its descent sooner and approached the ground. It bounced a few times before it landed then raced towards the edge of the plateau! The pilot braked as hard as he could while the others watched in horror as the plane raced forward.
The plane screeched to a halt just inches from the edge.
“Woohoo!” shouted the men.
“Yea!” others shouted and shot their fists into the air.
The first twelve airmen raced for the plane, hopping and scrambling to take off their shoes and jackets. They jumped into the plane and threw their shoes and jackets to the celebrating Serbs, who shouted out their thanks and goodbyes as the plane immediately took off. It retracted its wheels just in time to avoid hitting the trees as it ascended into the night sky.
“Son of a gun!” shouted O’Donnell! “We did it!” He laughed as he slapped Wallace on the back.
“Still got a lot of men to get out
of here, but, yea, we did it,” said Wallace.
They watched as the fifth plane overshot the airstrip and gunned around. It tried again, this time with a slow descent towards a landing. It landed and taxied around.
The plane slowed to a near stop when its wheel got stuck near a ditch. The plane teetered towards the ditch. Everyone jumped and raced to stop it from falling in. They surrounded the side of the plane and pushed several times until they moved it out of the ditch and back onto the strip.
The next twelve airmen repeated the earlier scene and boarded the plane. As it flew away, their Serbian hosts waved their goodbyes and blew kisses to the Americans. They celebrated another successful takeoff.
Musulin thought about the three planes that didn’t make it, and the other two that nearly didn’t.
“It’s too dangerous. We’re pushing our luck.” Rajacich and Jibilian agreed.
“We can’t allow any more planes to land on these conditions. Night rescue is too dangerous, especially with a makeshift airstrip on a damn plateau.
“Block off the strip and signal the planes to return to base without landing.” Musulin commanded.
Disappointed, the remaining airmen did as they were told. For now, they were still stuck in Yugoslavia. But they had no intentions of leaving the airstrip, so they remained there the rest of the evening.
Musulin radioed headquarters and informed them of the situation.
“Standby for further instructions,” was their reply.
Early the following morning, O’Donnell and the others were awakened by an earsplitting noise in the distance. They quickly rose and looked up into the sky to see what was causing the incredible noise.
“Holy Mother of God!” exclaimed Wallace.
“Are you kidding me?” shouted O’Donnell.
The sky was saturated with American airplanes! O’Donnell counted six C-47s surrounded by at least one hundred P-51 and P-38 fighter planes! Amazing!
“This is headquarters’ answer!” laughed Musulin.
Everyone erupted in cheers as it dawned on them that today was the day! Evidently, headquarters decided that the only safe rescue could be one done during the day under the protection of fighter planes.