The Bosnian Experience

by J E Higgins

  Studying the landscape, she established that the hill wound from the cliff line above down to the river line. If her comrades were to come her way, they would come from that direction. Pivoting, she observed the area she could make out with her limited visibility. She tried to predict any other directions Oleg and Smolesk might choose. Aside from her current location, no other point in the general vicinity could be used.

  They knew to meet her at the edge of the city. She had landed on the same side of the river where they had initially landed. With limited ways to cross the river on foot, they would still be on the same side when they came looking for her.

  Her next consideration was how she would contact them when they were trying to find her in the dark. A flashlight was too dangerous. She contemplated whistles or a loud whisper, all of which she dismissed as impractical given how close she was to a security point. Besides, she had no knowledge of what security elements or who else might be lurking in the darkness nearby. Eventually, she resolved to play it by ear when they arrived.

  She was tired from rowing and leaned back in the boat to rest. Now motionless, the night chill bit at her. The sweat from her nervous energy had soaked her clothes, and the dampness was not helping. Hugging her shoulders, she tried to get warm resisting the urge to grab a blanket because she had to remain able to move promptly in the event her comrades arrived and they needed to flee.

  It was a long half hour before she caught sight of two darkened figures ─ men searching for something ─ standing on the cliffs above her. Sauwa held fast, not quite sure they were her two friends. The figures stood at the edge of the cliff for a considerable time. Then they made their way down the winding trail toward the river carrying large objects which made their decent an awkward affair.

  Progressing down to the plateau, they disappeared into the darkness. Sauwa could trace their movements only through the sounds they made. Eventually, they re-emerged into the scant light looking around nervously when they reached the river. Convinced they were Oleg and Smolesk, but needing to be sure, she grabbed a small rock and tossed it in their direction. It caught their attention with a sharp thump.

  “Sauwa?” The smaller of the two called out in English using a heightened whisper as he turned in her direction.

  “Oleg?”

  The two men rushed to the boat. They dropped the containers they had been lugging into the stern and jumped in, practically landing on top of her.

  Oleg pushed her to one side, and Smolesk took up his position at the motor. She had no time to ask questions before Oleg kicked the boat out into the water reaching for the oars. He was about to drop them into the water when Sauwa cautioned him by pointing out how close they were to the defense perimeter.

  As Sauwa had done, Oleg rowed with gentle, quiet strokes as they departed the land and headed for the perimeter barriers. No one said anything as they neared several shadowed figures manning the guard points.

  Smolesk remained at the motor ready to fire it up at the first indication they were discovered and had to make a run for it. They watched the glow emanating from the floodlights on the river. The lights remained stationary, but it was on everyone’s mind how easily that could change. The boat only needed to be seen once, and a barrage of gunfire would follow.

  They passed the perimeter, hearts pounding, eyes staring straight up. None of the silhouettes moved beyond their routine gestures, yet all three guerrillas held their breaths in anticipation as they got close to where the floodlights were aimed.

  Sauwa had the same feeling she had felt so many times in her life when she was inches away from death. It was the cold sinking sensation of coming to grips with your own mortality. Their deaths would be instant.

  Inch by inch, they passed the wide beams of light. Time stopped. Every stroke seemed to take hours rather than seconds. The lights did not budge from their positions. With every second gaining more distance, their sense of relief became stronger. Sauwa could hear Oleg start to chuckle. His strokes became stronger, and he rowed faster. Even from the other side of the boat, she could feel Smolesk begin to loosen his grip on the motor.

  When they turned a bend and the city was far behind them, Sauwa flicked on the flashlight and Smolesk started the motor.

  Oleg decided it was safe enough to start speaking. “We were worried we wouldn’t find you. We weren’t even sure you would be there, because it was taking us so long to find what we needed. Then we had to make our way through the city without looking suspicious. You must have been waiting for a long time.”

  “Not too long,” Sauwa replied. “Trust me when I say my circumstances were not that much better when it came to getting to the other side.”

  “Difficult?” Oleg pressed expecting an answer.

  Sauwa grimaced. She didn’t want to give them an explanation but knew she was going to have to. “I killed one of the guards while trying to make my escape.”

  “What!” Oleg exclaimed, almost shouting.

  Sauwa turned to look at him and was about to explain when Smolesk chimed in. He hadn’t been able to follow the conversation between his two comrades since it was being carried on in English, but when Oleg had jumped with surprise, the older man demanded an explanation. Oleg obliged him. Once Oleg responded, Smolesk groaned and leaned back against the boat.

  “We’ll never be able to go through that way again,” Oleg grumbled. “We still have to get back to our people when we sell these supplies and that means having to go through this all over again. Killing our own people is not something easily forgiven, especially if they discover that we had smuggled anything past them. You really couldn’t have used any other method than to kill the guard to make your escape.”

  Sauwa could feel Oleg glaring at her even in the darkness.

  He continued, “I should have expected this. What more could have been expected, when I leave such a situation in the hands of a psychopath. Murder is the way you deal with everything.”

  Sauwa’s voice was calm and quiet. “I would have used less controversial means; however, I was left few options once the man attempted to rape me. He tried the minute you all left.”

  “A convenient situation for you, I’m sure,” Oleg hissed angrily.

  Sauwa didn’t reply to his comment. Her dead silence created an uneasy atmosphere in the boat.

  Oleg reconsidered. “I apologize. I understand you did what you had to do. Even if he had not tried to attack you, killing him might have still been necessary. Smolesk and I were under intense scrutiny from the commander. It was only when he was distracted by more important affairs that we had a chance to escape, find some fuel, and follow the river to the end. If you hadn’t been here when you were, we would have been killed or pressed into their army. In truth, looking back on it, we barely escaped. I hate to say this about my own countrymen, but you were right. They would have seized our goods if they had known about the other boat.”

  “As long as we’re all good then,” Sauwa replied. “You are right. You won’t be able to go through Mostar on the return trip.” She had come to the same conclusion earlier.

  Oleg nodded. “I was hoping you might have an idea for an alternate path going back since the river is becoming a less viable option.”

  “I’ll have to think about it. Until I have better intelligence regarding the overall state of the region and the conflict, I couldn’t give you anything of value.”

  Oleg nodded, though it was apparent he was annoyed not hearing a plan instantly. He turned and spoke to Smolesk translating their conversation.

  Half a kilometer down the river, they saw a flickering light emanating from the river bank. A communication system had been established between the two boats using a series of flickering patterns with the flashlights in the event the two parties were separated in the dark and had to identify each other. Sauwa recognized the pattern and responded with a flickering of her light.

  Smolesk didn’t wait for an order. He steered the boat in the direction of the light. This alarme
d the other two who wanted to approach with greater caution.

  Soon they were by the river bank where a voice materializing from the darkness. Oleg cheerfully replied. Sauwa turned her beam in the direction of the voice and was excited to see their comrades moored along the bank looking in the best of health. There was a quick exchange of pleasantries and conversation and an exchange of adventure stories.

  It took a little prodding from Sauwa to get the guerrillas back on their journey. She feared with all that had happened in the city, it was unwise to remain so close.

  24

  Sauwa awoke to the usual icy chill, the chirping birds, the pinkish-orange crack of light emerging over the hilltops, and the now familiar scratchy blanket once more found thrown over her.

  Smolesk observed her with a paternal look of affection. It felt strange to be seen by someone who wasn’t viewing her as a mercenary or a potential plaything. Even stranger, she found she actually enjoyed the older man’s doting concern.

  Sitting upright she could see the flashlight placed at the head of the boat offered a well-lit view of the river ahead. She cursed herself for having fallen asleep during a dangerous operation. People were depending on her. She needed to be more attentive and not let such things happen.

  As if reading her mind, Smolesk spoke to her. She was unable to interpret fully, but his words seemed kindly directed and meant to put her at ease.

  “You have done a great deal for us,” Oleg translated as he arose from his own slumber. “He’s saying you shouldn’t punish yourself for not always being the consummate professional soldier. The responsibilities you bear and the risks you undertake on our behalf are more than many people could handle. If you have lapses after all this, it should only be expected.”

  She turned back to Smolesk and nodded her thanks to him. His words did make her feel better. Yet, she was a soldier, this was a war, and moments of weakness were not acceptable when someone was counting on you.

  She stretched and groaned, her joints and back protesting. Her body ached from both the wood deck and the awkward position she had been in while sleeping. Something as simple as a bed, not to mention a warm meal, seemed like a heavenly dream.

  Oleg passed her more dried meat for breakfast.

  As the sun came up, the land became more visible and soon the boats were heading to shore so the fuel tanks could be refilled and the motors topped off. Finding a patch of land that provided reasonable concealment, the guerrillas secured the boats along the river bank. No sooner had they landed, than a delegation from the other boat made their way toward Sauwa and her trio.

  Oleg met them standing on the lead boat his arms extended with one of the fuel cans which they quickly grabbed. They took the second can with the same zeal and part of the delegation departed swiftly to tend to their motor. The remaining men carried on a conversation with Oleg for a time. The topic did not seem to require her assistance, nor did Oleg pause to translate.

  Sauwa jumped off the boat and took up a comfortable spot next to a large tree to enjoy the remainder of her breakfast.

  A short time later, the rest of the delegation returned to their boat. Oleg sat down next to her looking weary and a bit frustrated. Sauwa picked up her canteen and sipped some water. Smolesk finished pouring fuel into the motor and hunched over his own meal.

  “They’re concerned about the bodies,” Oleg said. “There is some contention regarding what to do with them.”

  Not knowing if he was speaking to her or merely talking out loud Sauwa said nothing.

  He shifted in her direction but kept his gaze directed out at the water which gleamed with the light of the sunrise. “Some of them want to dump the bodies because they take up space and will become a health hazard when they start to decompose. Others want to see them brought home to their families. I’m not sure what we should do.” He looked at Sauwa with expectation.

  “It will be hard enough getting to the end of this journey. Dead bodies are excess baggage we don’t have the luxury to carry with us.” Sauwa capped her canteen. Her own gaze was fixed on the river. “Even if you decide to stay with the rest of the men, as you have said, it won’t be easy getting back, and the bodies will be even more of a burden. I don’t like discarding fallen comrades either, but you have precious little to work with and a lot of obstacles ahead. Keeping the fallen really isn’t an option.”

  Oleg ruminated uncomfortably for a time. It was clearly not the answer he had wanted. No leader wanted the burden of this kind of decision.

  Sauwa stayed quiet. They both knew her volunteering to make the call herself would only make the situation worse. The men would be angry with one of their own giving such an order, but a woman ─ a foreigner ─doing so would be an utter insult and a sure path to mutiny.

  Sauwa sat back as Oleg hoisted himself up and went over to where the men were gathered. It wasn’t long before tempers started to rise. Eventually, Oleg managed to reassert his authority. While a few retained their angry looks and stares, they all yielded to his control and backed down.

  A couple of them diverted their eyes in her direction seeing her as the force behind having their comrades’ remains dismissed so disrespectfully. She responded by casually lowering her rifle across her body, and placing her hand loosely near the trigger mechanism. She did this while delivering a cold stare back at them. The men who thought to exercise their anger on her quickly lowered their gazes.

  The men went to the boat and carried the bodies onto land. They grimaced bitterly as Oleg and another man cut each stomach releasing air or body fat that would enable the corpses to float. Not having any shovels, or much time, they gave the dead a funeral then lowered the bodies into the river. It was yet another decision that did not sit well with some of the men. Afterward, the guerrillas watched in silence as the dead disappeared into the murky green darkness.

  Sauwa respectfully stood at the correct time but opted to keep her distance during the funeral. She reminded herself she was still a mercenary, a soldier-for-hire who happened to be in their employ, not a loyal patriot fighting a passionate crusade like they were. This was a personal time for the guerrillas, a private ceremony to honor their dead. Her presence demeaned that in the minds of several of the men.

  After the sendoff, the men went about their activities in a daze going through the motions. They finished servicing the motors and ate their breakfast. Given it had been another long and harrowing night, Oleg ─ with Sauwa’s advice ─ decided to give the men a few hours of rest before they set off again. Since she had already enjoyed a brief respite, Sauwa offered to stand guard while others got some shut-eye.

  As the men pulled out blankets and found places on the soft dirt to sprawl out, Sauwa picked up her rifle and walked the area circling their location. She ascended a small hill overlooking the bank and cut through the bushes.

  Carrying her rifle at the ready, she tramped through the trees scanning the distance for movement. Further on, she lowered herself to a knee, closed her eyes and listened. Nothing.

  Rising to her feet, she set out again moving along the perimeter. The surrounding area was relatively spartan with trees and bushes well separated from one another. It reminded her of places she saw in the English countryside when she had been there. It was beautiful but hardly strategic. She enjoyed a clear view of the area but had little protection from anyone who was lurking. Devoid of any camouflage, she would stick out in her jeans and flannel clothing.

  Still, recce complete, she decided they were reasonably safe. She slid back down the hill along the river bank. There the trees and bushes were much thicker giving her better protection from anyone who might be observing her from across the river. She stopped a couple of times to look across the way, scanning for any suspicious movements. After a while, she was satisfied they were alone.

  Making her way back to where the guerrillas were resting, she climbed up the hill once more until she could just see over the crest. The men were all fast asleep; even Oleg, who was sprawled
out on the ground just a few meters from where she was.

  In the quiet, she nestled into some bushes to remain out of sight, keeping guard.

  25

  At noon, the boats were back out on the water with the motors buzzing at a steady pace.

  Sauwa took the opportunity to catch a nap. Given the icy attitude toward her by some of the guerrillas in the other boat over the dispatching of their dead comrades, she felt for the time being it would be safer to sleep in the company of Oleg and Smolesk in the isolation of the lead boat.

  The journey continued calmly enough.

  Now, well inside Croatian controlled territory, they found the landscape more civil and orderly. Armed patrols and soldiers had given way to civilians trying to re-establish their lives and communities. The guerrillas relaxed and smiled more and enjoyed short exchanges of pleasantries with their countrymen. Villages they passed were peaceful, and a few times the locals even invited them to join in an afternoon meal or offered some other form of hospitality. The hot, well-cooked food came as a godsend for the guerrillas who had been subsisting on a diet of dried meats and some edible plants since embarking on their river escapade. The friendly faces were a welcome change from the adventures and narrow escapes that had started their journey.

  In a few villages, local women befriended Sauwa, taking pity on her ─ a poor girl roughing it with smelly men. In one case, they even arranged for a hot bath. It was a luxury she was not about to pass up.

  Also during this time, the mood of the guerrillas lightened toward her. Those who had been bitter about the treatment of their dead warmed up, accepting her back as one of the group. This made life easier, but she still remained on guard and kept her distance.

  Though they encountered rough waters or the occasional small waterfall that required a workaround, they crossed into Croatia in a few days. It was a milestone that met with much rejoicing by all. Surprisingly, they found virtually no security at the border. The few security officials they came across waved them on the second they heard their native language. The guards assumed the boatmen were Croatian fisherman or peasants going about their daily business. To avoid any trouble, the guerrillas hid their weapons, burying them under blankets or other articles.