Field of Blackbirds - Clayton Jeppsen & Lindsey Jeppsen (me reader txt) 📗

-Signed, Rico and Dmitri.


Chapter 16 – The Farmhouse


Tuzla, Bosnia-Herzegovina 1992

The Croatians were offering every dying breath to keep control of Vukovar, the destination of Lazar and Radenko’s reinforcement unit. The Croatian Paramilitary Forces (HOS) that ambushed them just outside of Tuzla received their own reinforcements from the Croatian National Army. They also rallied help from many local partisan fighters of Muslim and Bosnian decent. The fall of Vukovar would be a major blow to Croatia, politically, geographically and morally. It was paramount that the Serbs be cut off, never to reach Vukovar.
Radenko hoped they would be able to push through the ambush. It offered him a small chance of reuniting with his briefcase. But it seemed it was all they could do, over the past two weeks, just to hold the line they established. Their own reinforcement simply went around Tuzla and straight to Vukovar. They were on their own. Radenko planned on sending the briefcase to his father for safekeeping, but his transfer to the infantry happened so fast he didn’t have time. Radenko thought to himself that if he could not get his briefcase back, he would then hope for it to be destroyed through all the fighting.

The sun was beginning to set and the fighting seemed to lessen. However, large patches of smoke remained over the city, managing to disrupt the bright orange horizon. Even beauty would not rest without paying its toll to the destabilization of mankind.
Once they returned to their tents, Lazar removed his boots and set them next to the fire to dry out, as he and Radenko prepared for dinner. Lazar began to be good friends with Radenko lately. They stuck together during the fighting. Radenko seemed to be the only one who still had personality. Perhaps that was because he had only been in the fight for a short time. But that didn’t matter right now. He was someone who Lazar could relate to, someone who made him feel he wasn’t so abnormal. Lazar also felt he had a responsibility to take Radenko under his wing. He felt a loyalty to him for saving his life.
“I overheard some of the brass talking on the way back from the line.” admitted Radenko. “General Pec ordered a retreat if we haven’t penetrated the city in one week.”
“That’s understandable. Their numbers are increasing while ours seem to be diminishing. We already know our reinforcements are in Vukovar by now.” Lazar began to rub his feet.
“That’s a good idea!” blurted Radenko as he unlaced his boots.
Radenko had a somber look on his face, “Don’t you wonder why they want us in Vukovar anyway? It belongs to Croatia, not Serbia. So a few Serbs lost their jobs, is that a reason for war? We have enough going on in Kosovo.”
Radenko wasn’t a Serb, so it really was unfair for him to be fighting on this front. But even as a Serb, Lazar felt the reasons for invading Croatia were unprovoked. The truth was; it seemed he was getting farther and farther away from where he wanted to be. He wanted to find out what happened to those people who escaped across the river that day in Visegrad. He wanted to know where they went or perhaps find someone who knew anything at all about them. He didn’t know how long this war would last but he couldn’t wait until then to find Milla. Somehow, he had to get away, even if only for a while.
Radenko barely finished taking off his boots when a runner popped around the corner,
“Private Gavrillo, Lt. Obilic wants to see you in the farmhouse. He said immediately!” The Brass had found a sturdy farmhouse next to the stream. It was said to be vacant and just out of mortar range. They were using it for Officer’s quarters. Radenko wondered what Nikola wanted. He hadn’t spoken with him since that night at the restaurant. He thought he might threaten him to keep his mouth shut about what he knew or try to explain why they transferred him into the infantry. And then, almost immediately, another thought came to his mind. What if someone found his briefcase and Nikola had it? What if he saw what was inside of it? Radenko prepared for the worst and made his way to the farmhouse just up the stream. He prepared himself to take another stand for what he thought was right. He already stood up to General Pec in the restaurant, Nikola was nothing.
As Radenko approached the farmhouse he could see smoke coming out of the stone chimney. At least he would avoid the cold for a moment. He climbed the old wooden steps up to the front door. He knocked.
“Come in, Private Gavrillo,” invited Nikola.
“Sir,” Radenko saluted.
“At ease private.”
Nikola appeared calm, “Have a drink, Radenko.”
Oddly, Radenko preferred Nikola to call him Private. He hated to hear his first name pass through Nikola’s lips. As much as Nikola loved to drink, Radenko knew he had to be pleased with the discovery of a wine cellar in the farmhouse.
“Sir, I’ll take some hot coffee if you have it.” Radenko didn’t think it would be a good idea to drink with Nikola.
“Have a seat.” Nikola yelled into the next room, “Vladimir, Bring Radenko some coffee.”
While Radenko waited for the coffee, there was an uncomfortable silence between him and Nikola. Nikola just watched him. Radenko refused to engage in meaningless, small talk as he waited. He glanced around the room. There was no sign of his briefcase. It was a relief. Radenko did notice a stack of newspapers sitting on the table in front of him. He recognized two of them to be Kosovo underground papers. The LPK, ‘Zeri I Kosoves’ and the LKCK, ‘Climiri’, both of which could get a Serb jailed, just for being in possession of them.
Radenko looked up at Nikola. Perhaps Nikola was going to accuse Radenko of being in possession of the papers. Maybe someone planted them in his tent, he thought. For whatever reason Radenko was there, he didn’t trust Nikola’s antics. What was he up to? Radenko wondered.
“Thank you Vladimir,” Nikola broke the silence as the coffee was placed on the table next to the papers. Then he stood up and closed the doors to the room.
“Radenko, I have some bad news. There was a tragedy in Ivangrad.”
Radenko’s eyes widened. He thought of his father.
“Ivangrad was attacked by the Kacak Resistance and General Gavrillo’s home was hit with a flurry of rockets. Radenko, your father was inside.”
Radenko stood up out of his chair and sucked in the bitter air between them. He thought Nikola was going to report the worst.
“He’s in critical condition, but he’ll survive.”
“Are you sure he’s going to be okay?” Radenko wanted to hear it again.
“He’ll be fine” Nikola claimed, with a hint of, what Radenko recognized to be, regret.
“It was an assault on the morale of the Serbian National Army. It won’t go unpunished, I promise you.”
Radenko was hoping Nikola would grant him some leave. “Can I go see him, Sir?” Radenko waited.
Nikola put his hands together, interlacing his fingers, “I don’t know how much longer we’ll be pinned down here. But it’s not safe for you to leave now. It could be a month before we get out of here.”
Radenko knew they weren’t pinned down and he also knew General Pec had ordered a retreat in a week’s time. He could simply drive south through the Bosnian Serb town of Zvornik. This was outlandish, Radenko thought. He stared Nikola in the eyes. Nikola looked away as if being forced by guilt. As ideas began to spin in Radenko’s mind, he though of his father and then that was all he could think of.
“Is that all, Lieutenant?” asked Radenko.
“Yes Radenko, I’m sorry to be the one to bring you this news.”
Radenko stepped up to the table and poured two cups of coffee; one for himself and one for Lazar. Then he walked toward the front door.
“Radenko,” Nikola stood up. “This only means that now Montenegro is equally entangled in this conflict. Now we both have a reason to help Greater Serbia rid itself of those who hate her, leaving bloodstain after bloodstain on her soil.”
Radenko nodded as he walked out, almost not even paying attention to Nikola’s nationalist remark. He would never win Radenko over with that pathetic cry. And Radenko would never beat his chest to the sound of the war drum the way Nikola did.

************

Lazar thanked Radenko for the coffee. Tonight seemed to be colder than other nights.
“Is everything okay?” asked Lazar. He noticed that Radenko looked worried.
“My father was injured in an attack. He’ll be okay.”
“What do you mean? He’s still in Montenegro right? Lazar was surprised.
“There was a rocket attack on our home. Supposedly it was the Kacak Resistance. My father was inside.” Radenko looked curiously vexed when he said it.
“Someone’s marked him, Radenko. It doesn’t sound like a resistance tactic, friendly fire maybe. Sounds like a cover-up. You’re lucky your father’s alive.”
“He’ll be fine,” Radenko said halfheartedly. “By now my uncle Petrovich is with him, taking care of him. I just wish I was there too.”
As Radenko lay in his cot that night, his mind wouldn’t rest. The Kacak Resistance had only surfaced in Kosovo and only twice in the last year. Why would they travel all the way to Montenegro to the mountains of Ivangrad? And why was the attack not publicized? Radenko asked himself many more questions. Then he thought of Nikola, the way he sounded disappointed that the attack on his father was unsuccessful.
Everything began to click. The only thing that stopped General Pec from getting his