TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/101292/10129929.000

Text File | 1993-04-08 | 5.9 KB | 124 lines

                                                                                THE BALKANS, Page 62

Murder at Ugar Gorge


One lucky survivor recounts to TIME a Bosnian tale of horror
-- the summary execution of more than 200 Muslims

By JAMES L. GRAFF/ZAGREB and Semir K.


    There have been many tales of atrocity and murder in the
chilling course of the war in Bosnia. But few stories match the
horror of an alleged incident reported late last month for the
first time: the massacre in August of more than 200 Muslim men
and boys by Bosnian Serb militia at the edge of a ravine near
Travnik. Like some other Balkan tales, this one is impossible
to verify independently. Bosnia's Muslim authorities claim to
have details, but Serb leader Radovan Karadzic says he knows
nothing of a massacre. In the meantime, one escapee, Semir K.,
24, shivered with vivid memory as he poured out this account of
the evening of Aug. 21:

    Five of us -- me, my three brothers and my 18-year-old
nephew -- survived the "ethnic cleansing" of Muslims from the
town of Carakovo in mid-June by hiding in the bushes. We stayed
around there for 10 days or so, until we really had nothing left
to eat. Then my older brother said we had to surrender, and we
listened to him. The Serbian military police picked us up,
questioned us at the Keraterm ceramics factory and then took us
to a camp at Trno polje. They beat us until there was blood
coming from our noses and mouths. We were in the camp for about
a month.

    At about 8 o'clock in the morning on Aug. 21, the Serbs
brought five city buses to Trnopolje. Women and children filled
about half of one, and they ordered men to fill the rest. There
were some people who wanted to go; others were scared. But we
had hope because they told us the buses were under the
protection of the United Nations forces in Croatia and were
heading for the Croatian border. As we were getting on, my
sister-in-law pleaded that she and my 16-year-old nephew be let
on too. One of my brothers stayed behind.

    When we turned away from the Croatian border, we still
thought the U.N. would meet us. Instead three dump trucks joined
us. There was one van in front with Serbian military police,
and on each bus was a soldier with an automatic weapon. At
Skender Vakuf, they told us we were passing the front lines, so
we should lie down and not look out the windows.

    When we came to what I later knew to be the Ugar River,
they took us all out and said not to worry, we were going to be
exchanged for Serb prisoners. They got everyone out of the buses
and the trucks, which also had prisoners in them, and lined us
all up along the edge of the road, between the buses and the
river. They chose about 250 people, all men between about 16 and
50, and put us back on two buses. We still thought we were
heading for a prisoner exchange.

    After half an hour, we stopped. It was very quiet. Then a
soldier came in and pointed to a man at the front and said,
"You." They got out, and we heard a single shot. Then another
Serb came in and said to the soldier on board, "Now get two
out." More shots. Then we realized it was over, there was no
life for us. They started taking people by threes, and we heard
machine-gun bursts along with pistol shots.

    I was in the middle of the bus. When it was about my turn,
they opened the back door and started taking people from there
too. My brother and my younger nephew were taken out, and we
heard the shots. The guard nudged me with his rifle butt and
told me to take two with me. As I rose for the door, I thought
my other brother, Sakib, was with me. But then I tilted my head
and saw him and my older nephew lying on the floor, crying.

    I had already decided to run, whatever happened. I pushed
the soldier at the back door slightly; three steps was all I
needed to jump into the gorge. I landed in a tree, lost my
breath completely. My left arm was hurt, and I was bruised all
over. There were dead bodies all around me. As I jumped from the
tree, a guard fired three bullets at me, and I fell to the
ground. "He could have killed you," I heard one guard say to the
other, who answered, "I killed him instead." They heaved the
next two bodies down by their feet and hands. The skull of one
of them burst as it hit the rock, and his brain splattered my
shirt. I was lying on my back and could see what they were doing
up there. I watched them sling the bodies into the canyon; it
all took about an hour.

    I spent two nights and two days in the river, walking but
mostly swimming. I thought I was heading southeast toward
Muslim-controlled Travnik. I was lost and in shock. Once I
walked right into a Serb trench. They barked a question, and I
said I was going to fetch water, holding up an empty canister
I'd found. I just walked toward whatever the tanks were firing
at, since I knew the Muslims didn't have tanks.

    By the sixth day, I was very hungry, but the thirst was
even worse. I was coming to a settlement but didn't know what
kind. I saw a spring of water near a house. I couldn't focus my
eyes as I went to it to drink. I heard young girls passing; one
of them cried, "Mehmet, coffee is ready." A stone fell from my
heart; they were Muslims. The dog with them ran at me, and I
climbed a tree. Two men came with a gun. "Help me, brothers," I
said. "I'm completely unarmed." When they'd called the dog off,
I got down and tried to raise my hands above my head; I found
I didn't have the strength. I felt great pain in my kidneys. I
took off my shoe and showed them my ID I had hidden there. They
took me in.

    Later I went to the authorities in Jajce and told my
story. I was taken to Travnik, where I knew my mother and
sister-in-law had gone before our village was cleansed. I found
my sister-in-law, who asked me where the others were. I couldn't
tell her they were dead.