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Jovan Babic
L I T T L E D R A C U L A S
Resurrected Draculas
Dead Stories
Translated from the Serbian by Novica Petrovic
Resurrected Draculas
1
My final hour is approaching, Reverend. Wishing to come before Our Lord Jesus Christ with a pure heart, I would like to set down, without hiding even the smallest detail, how we went about exterminating the Greek-Orthodox population of some villages in the vicinity of Banja Luka. I swear before you and Our Lord that I shall speak nothing but the whole truth! You know, I should hope, that no action of mine has ever been for the sake of my personal benefit and that I have never neglected the furtherance of the foundation of our Independent State of Croatia or the orders of our Headman. On the contrary, with all my heart and most diligently, deeply believing that His Providence guided us, the Ustashi, and the whole Croatian people, I have always acted in accordance with the Statute of the Croatian Ustashi Revolutionary Organisation - CURO - and the orders of my superiors. And our historic duty, as you, Reverend, knew only too well, could be summed up by the three key issues: overthrowing the bloody Yugo-Serb tyranny, clearing Croatian historical and ethnic space of the Greek-Orthodox population, and then, in spite of all the obstacles, establishing the independent and autonomous state of Croatia. No excuses or humane considerations were to stand in the way of such an elevated objective. With a view to achieving this objective, with the purposeful support of our Mother Church and our virtuous allies - the Great German Reich and Duce's Italian Empire - we acted not only most efficiently but also without any mercy whatsoever towards our enemy of many centuries, the Serbs.
This generation of Croats, however, both those in our only homeland, Croatia, and those scattered all over the world, has not been allowed by Fate to bring this covenantal thought and mission of ours to fruition; Providence has certainly bequeathed the joy of achieving this pinnacle of Croatian thought and deed to Croatian soldiers of the future. You have witnessed for yourself that, most unfortunately, we have been driven forcibly from our holy Croatian soil all the way to the far-off Austrian town of Filach, where the last vestiges of my strength are waning due to severe wounds.
I am not writing to you, Reverend Wili, to remind you, let alone lecture you, but to assure you unequivocally that even now, writing these lines with a trembling hand, I am still that same private, sub-corporal, corporal, sergeant, sergeant major, sub-lieutenant, lieutenant and, finally, captain that I was in Lipari and Brescia in Italy, in Janka-Puzsta in Hungary, in the course of our great undertaking, the extermination of the Greek-Orthodox population in Glina, Bihac, Krupa, Livno, Glamoc, and particularly in the vicinity of Banja Luka, the only occasion in the course of our exalted mission when we were not acting under your unerring guidance, that of a true Croatian Ustashi and people's priest.
That is why, in my final hour of earthly life, I take the great liberty of asking you most humbly, deeply believing in Jesus Christ, Our Saviour, for the last unction and pardon of sins, despite the fact that our exalted Church, as you have always pointed out to us, has taken upon itself, before the face Jesus Christ crucified on the cross, all the sins pertaining to the establishment of the Independent State of Croatia.
The only occasion when, on account of attending to more pressing duties on behalf of our glorious Headman, you were not with us was when, acting upon the Headman's personal orders, we exterminated the Greek-Orthodox population of the villages of Drakulic, Motike, Šargovac and the Rakovac coal mine, all in the vicinity of Banja Luka. That is why I wish, as long as my waning power should last, to provide you with an exact description of that day, a truly glorious day for my Second Battalion of the Headman's Personal Guard. I am fully aware that my wounds are beyond healing. I go, therefore, to meet my Lord with a pure heart. Let Him bless you!
Having departed from Zagreb, our capital, we arrived in the town of Banja Luka on January 6th, 1942, on the eve of Orthodox Christmas. Ten days before, I had been summoned by telephone by the Head of the Ustashi Police Force, Eugen Dido Kvaternik, acting on the orders of his father, the Commander of the Armed Forces of the Independent State of Croatia, Sir Slavko Kvaternik.
- It is to you, Captain, that we entrust this task of the utmost importance for the benefit and advancement of the Ustashi regime in Bosnia at the moment. The former liquidator of the Vrbas Banovina , later the regent and Great Župan of the Great Župa of Sana and Luka in Banja Luka, currently the Great Župan with the Ministry of Interior Affairs, Dr Viktor Gutic, has managed to obtain the Headman's permission to have a battalion of the Headman's Personal Guard sent to Banja Luka. In view of the Headman's great confidence in Mr Gutic, based on the latter's impeccably efficient work so far, the Headman was reassured that such a task could only be performed by old-guard Ustashi members, those sworn in at one time or another in Italy, Hungary, Belgium and South America, to whom you, Captain, also belong...
- And what task would that be, Commander? - I could not resist asking while goose pimples ran hotly up my spine.
- I shall inform you of that at once... - he said calmly, offering me a drink. What follows is a summary of that part of the conversation: to wit, despite the assiduous endeavours of Msgr Jozo Garic, the Bishop of Banja Luka, the Reverend Dr Nikola Bilogrivic, the parish priest, as well as other clergymen, there still remained three villages in the vicinity of Banja Luka with a Greek-Orthodox population that had resisted being converted to our Holy Faith. Hence Dr Gutic, well known for his zealous work for the Ustashi cause even in the pre-war period, had demanded that this festering boil should be removed from our pure Croatian body. In order to achieve this, the Commander added, action should be taken very urgently. And in great secrecy, without notifying the local authorities and highest officials. Therefore, until the very day of carrying out the order of Sir Slavko Kvaternik, the Ustashi from the Battalion, with the sole exception of the officers from the Headquarters, were not to have any inkling of what duty awaited them.
- And what about the Great Župan, Sir Ladislav Aleman? And the Banja Luka Chief of Police, Mr Ozren Kvaternik, will not even he - I asked in some surprise - get the necessary information? Then what about our Division Commander, Colonel Lulic, the Commander of our Third Police Regiment, Novak, the officer in charge of the Ustashi Supervisory Service, Alija Kurt...
Raising his hand impatiently, the Commander interrupted me and said:
- That, Captain, is no concern of yours. Mr Gutic, who eagerly awaits you in Banja Luka, will take care of everything. He has a completely-worked-out plan, approved by the highest authority. I wish you a successful completion of the task, with the help of Our Lord. Ready for the homeland!
- Ready for the homeland! - I exclaimed, echoing the salute, having sprung to attention, but I could hardly wait to be dismissed and to set off for Banja Luka, there to accomplish the true mission of my life.
I feel, yet again, that I lack the physical power required to go on writing this letter. However, as a precaution against extreme bodily disability, I have recounted all the details pertaining to the slaughter of the Greek-Orthodox population in the vicinity of Banja Luka to a young Ustashi, a highly educated and gifted lad. If, therefore, I do not manage to complete this letter, he will, I hope, do so, the way I dictated it to him. And if we do not meet again in this world, we shall, the good Lord permitting, meet in the next one. I cannot go on. The youngster will take over, Reverend Wili...
* * *
The blizzard has been steadily covering the streets of Banja Luka with a thick layer of snow for days. Sometimes, especially at night, when the streetlights are lit, it seems that the snowflakes, in the manner of angry wasps, spring out and charge at one from every direction. Even from below, from the ground. And the cold is unprecedented: everything freezes, be it dead or alive. Dead sparrows dropping from the sky, as they say! This morning, the Central Weather Office of the Independent State of Croatia announced on the radio that the temperature in the region of Croatian Krajina had dropped to 25 degrees Centigrade below zero. It is now the beginning of January, and the month of December was not appreciably warmer. God only knows what February will be like. This is no good, quite simply no good. The German Army, which had advanced so triumphantly throughout Europe, particularly in the so-called USSR, in the course of military operations in the year 1941, is now stuck in the impassable expanse of Russia. Stuck in the same way as, for example, the superior army of Napoleon Bonaparte before Moscow back in 1812. Can it happen that, once again, the mightiest Russian general - winter, proves to be the victor? Not, as Russian historians would have it, the Russian army commander, Mikhail Ilarionovich Kutuzov, that half-blind old man, but the bloody Russian winter. This is no good, quite simply no good.
Sunk in these gloomy thoughts, protecting his ears from freezing by raising high the collar of his warm officer's coat, Captain Mišolov arrives at the entrance of the Ustashi Supervisory Service Headquarters in Banja Luka. Apart from his ears, the high collar, reaching up to his eyes, also protects his nose and mouth. Indeed, he is quite convinced that, without the collar, his very breath would freeze. And that an icicle, looking like an ant-eater's proboscis, would form on his nose.
- Ready for the homeland! - shouted the guard from the semi-darkness, trying to salute the officer he did not know by clicking his heels and raising his right arm.
- Ready! - replied the bulky officer less than enthusiastically. Waiting for the guard to ring for the officer on duty inside, he cast a contemptuous glance at the man, huddled with cold, and then went on to shake the thick layer of snow off his uniform. It appeared, judging by his gloomy face, that he was going to give the hapless guard a going-over, cross-examine him on the subject of the basic Articles from the Book of Regulations and then reprimand him for lack of discipline. However, the man quickly opened the door and the sullen officer went into the hall of the Headquarters, then hurried towards the Commander's office. A question was heard from the inside:
- Has Doctor Gutic arrived yet?
- Yes, Captain! He is expecting you. Let me show you the way...- the attendant replied.
The Captain's and the attendant's steps could be heard for a while yet, then there was the sound of opening and closing a door. There followed the sound of the hurried steps of the attendant, then silence.
- Ready for the homeland, Captain! The Great Župan with the Ministry of Interior Affairs, Viktor Gutic, at your service... - officiously cawed a rather short, stocky man of forty. Having frozen to attention, he tried to pull in his ball-like, barrel-sized belly and make it somehow appear smaller, apparently to no avail.
- Ready for the homeland, Dr Gutic! I know everything about you, or almost everything. Especially about your meritorious work... - replied the Captain, trying to be as courteous as humanly possible, although every move of his giant-sized body radiated the strength and firmness of a seasoned Ustashi officer.
While the Captain was taking off his overcoat and cap with a big shiny letter U upon it, Gutic was stunned by the giant-like body of his guest. He was particularly impressed by the bristly grey hair, thick eyebrows, low forehead and square jaw, the latter indicating a man of exceptionally strong will and quick temper. As an experienced lawyer in the pre-war days, a man adept at judging people, Dr Gutic also noticed this about the Captain: his small deep-set eyes blinked restlessly, as if constantly in search of something or other. It gave one the impression that the Captain trusted no-one completely, his host being no exception, although, naturally he did not want to show it in any way.
- Pray tell, what would you like to drink: our home-made slivovitz from Motike, or maybe a glass of German Mosel , something we just have to have for such a distinguished guest, or perhaps a glass of Herzegovinian Žilavka , or would you rather have Dalmatian grape brandy... Your wish is my command! For such a distinguished guest, as I said, a choice drink must be found despite the wartime deprivation. Do say... - Dr Gutic went on officiously.
- What would a native of Herzegovina have, for the love of Christ, but grape brandy! I am, you know, a true blue Herzegovinian. For many a long year, while I had to rough it in Italy, damn those wops, serving our beloved Headman, I dreamed of Herzegovina. To say nothing of our dishes and drinks. As you can see, Doctor, I haven't forgotten our mellifluous Herzegovinian dialect, not a single word of it. And I spent all of nine years in Italy... Well, to your health. And to the welfare of our beloved country, my good Doctor! - the Captain proposed a toast, knocking back a large glass of grape brandy, slurping noisily.
- God heed your words, Captain Mišolov, every single one of them. And may we accomplish our great task here so that the Headman can be proud of us. And we shall manage, it is my firm belief, with the help of Providence from above and the blessing of our priests here below, to exterminate the Greek-Orthodox vermin! To the glory of our crucified Jesus Christ and our God-given Headman! - Gutic replied zealously, draining his glass with visible pleasure.
- Your tireless work for our only homeland is well known, Mr Župan. I would like to ask you, with your permission, if you have ever been abroad, where and when you swore your allegiance to the Ustashi movement. For such diligence and unwavering dedication to our common cause...
- Let us, my dear Herzegovinian, if I may be allowed to call you that, have another glass. Two legs have brought us here, as they say. To your health, Captain. Let us clink glasses. Good... As for my ever having been abroad, if you mean as a member of some Ustashi unit, no, I never have. I swore my allegiance to the movement in Banja Luka back in 1935. My brother Blaž followed suit a while later. I don't know if you have heard of him.
- Of course I have! And I have studied all the details pertaining to all of you very thoroughly. Pray tell...
- Like all the other members of the Ustashi movement here in our homeland, I have suffered unspeakably: arrests, torture, trials, imprisonment. I have, my dear sir...
- I know, I know fully what you want to say to me. That I guarantee to you. You were, were you not, conscripted by that army of theirs in March 1941 and stationed in Bihac. In the rank of a reserve Captain, no less. You could hardly wait to tear off their epaulettes, whereupon you established the first Ustashi Headquarters in Bihac, and later on in Krupa, Sanski Most, Novi, Prijedor, Banja Luka... And where there's an Ustashi Headquarters, as we know only too well, there is an Ustashi administration. You went on to establish an Ustashi administration in the whole of the former Vrbas Banovina, that is, the whole of Croatian Krajina, even before being ordered to do so by our Headman and the Commander of the Armed Forces of the Independent State of Croatia, Sir Slavko Kvaternik. The two of them, along with many others, congratulated you personally on having achieved this, on the radio, no less. At the same time they appointed you the Stožernik of Croatian Krajina. And while you were in Bihac, your brother Blaž deputised for you. Is that right?
- That is, indeed, right. Thank you for speaking favourably of my brother Blaž. But...
- Mr Great Župan, I know by heart your rousing words directed against the Greek-Orthodox part of the population, words spoken in Varcar-Vakuf, Sanski Most, Banja Luka, Prnjavor... "We must sweep these Serb ticks and intruders - you said on the occasion of pulling down the monument to King Petar, the so-called Liberator - off our holy Croatian land with an iron broom. Each and every one of them, down to the last one, so that not a trace of them should be left there..." Like every Croatian patriot, I was particularly impressed by the illustrious phrases you delivered in Sanski Most: "There are no more Serb peasants, our bloodsuckers, their Serboslavia is no more! The roads will wish for Serbs, but there will be none." And by those you delivered in Banja Luka, too: "I have received a special seal of approval from our Headman. As of tomorrow, I shall be even harder on them. The Serb spine shall snap! We shall have no mercy for the enemies of Croatia! I say: let no-one come to me to plead for our oppressors. I repeat: I shall sweep like an iron broom here..."
All flushed, what with the brandy and the excitement of listening to such praise of his person, Gutic just stood there, blinking contentedly. Boundless joy shining through his glasses, he interposed:
- You know what I said in Prnajvor, on June 6th last year? "In this district - I said - there are three churches that have been forcibly taken away from the Croatian people. Repossess them as of tomorrow and write upon their walls: this belongs to Croatia! To the Serb den in Prnjavor I say: I will take twenty-four hours to destroy it! I will start killing them and you will follow my lead..."
- Did you prepare those wonderful speeches yourself or...?
- Of course I did! When I was a lawyer, I would stand in front of a mirror, get hold of a text and speak, raising or lowering the tone of my voice, making pauses, making the appropriate bodily movements, be it with my head, arms, even legs... I would add words to the original text, sometimes quite a few, if the occasion warranted it...
- Most interesting... - the Captain concurred.
- I am truly moved by such kind words, but with your permission, I would like to point something out. I personally swore in the first group of seventy Banja Luka Ustashi at our Catholic monastery of Petricevac. That is a fact! But I was helped, in no small way, by our fine priests and monks from that monastery, as well as others, who were always wholeheartedly at my service. Thus, for example, Friar Alojzije Cosic of Pavlovac said this, or words to that effect, at the local church: "Brother Croats, for twenty years the Serbs have been a heavy burden on our shoulders. The good Lord allowed us to shake it off. That is why the Serb breed should be exterminated once and for all..." Our priest Petar Pajic was none too gentle either: "Until now the Lord has spoken by means of advice, papal encyclicals, countless sermons in Christian publications, missions, heroic examples of saints... The Lord has decided to resort to different methods from now on. Not only priests will follow them but army commanders as well, headed by Hitler and our fine Headman. The sermons will be that much more audible with the help of artillery, tanks and bombers..."
- Those are very fine words indeed, my dear Doctor. How well our priests put it... Yes, yes. With the help of artillery, tanks, bombers... Or, as our Dalmatians would put it: cannon, tanks and aeroplanes. Yes, they would, I swear by the name of Jesus Christ and the Blessed Virgin. Yes, that's how they would say it - the Captain interposed, in an advanced state of inebriation, roaring with laughter. "Why, do not be modest, my good sir. As I have already told you, I know everything about you: that you joined the Croatian Farmers' Party as far back as 1921, together with our Headman, whose wisdom is beyond compare, Dr Mile Budak and Dr Mladen Lorkovic. Also, that you were arrested for the first time in 1930 for having distributed Ustashi leaflets in Banja Luka, Kotor-Varoš, Gradiška-upon-Sava, Jajce and elsewhere. Following which, you were sentenced by the Gypsy court of their King Aleksandar Karadjordjevic to thirty months of hard labour... Pray tell, do I know it or not? And I haven't told everything yet, not by a long chalk. Here..." - he insisted on pouring the next round of brandy himself.
- I have no doubt whatsoever that you do. God forbid that I should! This, however, should not detain me from telling you more about our clergy from Banja Luka. Even about the clergy of the entire Croatian Krajina. Take, for instance, the Bishop of Banja Luka, Jozo Garic, who should be an example to us all. He has always given us his wholehearted support. Even when he didn't wish to do it publicly, I knew exactly what instructions he gave to the clergy ranking below him for the sake of the general advancement of our Ustashi cause. Of our local Guardian, Dr Nikola Bilogrivic, I can only say that he is my right hand and sabre-sharp. There has been no Ustashi gathering of activity, Captain, that he has not taken part in right by my side. Not only has he taken part, but has promoted the Ustashi cause in his public appearances. To say nothing of Friar Miroslav Filipovic, the parish priest at the Petricevac monastery, who was among the first to be sworn in by myself as a member of the Ustashi movement. He is, after all, an Ustashi officer today. In view of this, I have entrusted him with the most responsible and decisive task in our forthcoming undertaking of exterminating the Greek-Orthodox population in Drakulic, Šargovac, Motike and the Rakovac coal mine...
- It is certain, my good sir, that Catholic priests throughout the Independent State of Croatia, and here, in Banja Luka, support us. In spite of that, it is my duty to remind you, there do exist examples to the contrary. Those, it is my duty to observe, you have not mentioned. For example... - Mišolov retorted, enunciating his words with visible effort, stumbling over them.
- As far as that is concerned, do be quite open, I beseech you. Pray tell... - Gutic replied, also rather exhausted due to inebriation and their long conversation.
- Who is, for example, Friar Željko Džaja? What sort of a Catholic priest is Friar Niko Kaic? You will not tell me, I hope, that you haven't heard of them! - the Captain insisted.
- No, I won't. They both belong to this Great Župa. Džaja is the parish priest in Dobratic, near Skender-Vakuf, whereas Kaic is the parish priest in Varcar-Vakuf. What is it that I ought to know about them? - Gutic said, teasing his guest a little, raising his voice all of a sudden.
- You should know, sir, that they are not true Catholic and parish priests. The former has opposed the slaughter of the Greek-Orthodox population of the nearby villages, speaking disparagingly of the Ustashi movement. What's more, he has tried to dissuade our young men from joining Ustashi units, preaching peace with our brothers in Christ from the altar... I have information on this from the highest level, the Headquarters of the Ustashi Supervisory Service, the USS...
- As for Friar Kaic?
- It is less bad, but still bad. He has issued certificates to Greek-Orthodox individuals, confirming their conversion to the Roman Catholic faith, saying to them: "You have already been christened once, and that is enough. Two baptisms won't do, so go on making the sign of the cross the way you have done until now, my child. For the cross is the same, mark my words. As for this piece of paper, take it home. Keep it, and produce in case the Ustashi ask you about your faith..." That is how he spoke to them. I know everything, see, much more than I ought to. A certain priest by the name of Prpic, here in Banja Luka, has acted similarly, doing his priestly duty in an extremely negligent manner...
- As you well know, after my clash with the German General Fortner I was transferred to Zagreb. That is why I may not be acquainted with each and every detail of what is going on here. That I do admit, as, I hope, you will admit that we have to bear in mind that there are always exceptions to the rule. But you will see for yourself the worth of our clergy when we start exterminating the Greek-Orthodox vermin in Drakulic, Šargovac and Motike. You will see, God willing, my Friar Filipovic bashing and slaughtering them, Friar Zvonko Brekalo following suit, also, I trust, Friar Kruno Brkic. All three were most enthusiastic when it came to pulling down that Serb Devil's shrine, the "Holy Trinity" church in the centre of the town, constructed according to the architectural design made by the architects Suljaga Salihagic and his son. In this way, I managed to make the animosity between the Muslim and the Greek-Orthodox population even more intense. Why, together with Filipovic I even...
- What?
- The two of us, what's more, have devised a special tool for exterminating Serbs. We called it a Serb-basher...
- Why, you are a real devil disguised as man, my dear Doctor! Serb-basher, you say. What demon has whispered those words into your ear: Serb-basher! Oh my, I'll die laughing - the Captain got up from the table, holding his stomach.
- That's precisely what it's called, a Serb-basher. This - Gutic, too, was roaring with laughter as he took the tool out of a drawer - is it. Look, it consists of a wooden handle with a spiked iron ball on top. Quite simple but most effective. We have already tried it on a horse's skull. A single blow and the skull is smashed, as if made of glass. Here, take a look... - Gutic said, out of breath with laughter.
- What a lovely tool indeed! And you say: "The skull is smashed, as if made of glass..." Why, my dear Doctor, if this Serb-basher of yours proves to be as effective as you say, I'll propose officially that new Ustashi members should be sworn in before it. Until now, as you know, they have been sworn in before two candles, a crucifix, a revolver, a dagger and the Bible. Now this Serb-basher of yours ought to be added to those. For this wonderful device the Headman ought to decorate you with a King Zvonimir Crown of the First Order. I do say... - the Captain assured his host, pouring another round of drinks. Having done that, he turned serious all of a sudden and said:
- Before emigrating to Italy, I hit a Serb officer on our ship on the back of the head with a similar device. But his skull was really tough. He didn't collapse but started shouting as if he'd gone mad. I had to flee immediately. I fled to Ancona, it was back in 1932, my dear fellow. I went from one place in Italy to another: Brescia, Lipari, Sacro... Always by our Headman's side. I have also spent some time in Janka-Puzsta in Hungary. Our commander there was Antun Percec, he was there with that whore of his, Jelka Podgorelec. The rest of us were starved of pussy the way a hungry man would be starved of food, and as for him... He fucked her all night long, the bed creaked under them, about to break...
- Your description of it was most vivid, I could almost see it for myself! - his host egged him on, his eyes aglow.
- That whore of his, we called her Cock-Starved Jelka, later betrayed us to the Yugoslav police... Lieutenant Colonel Antun Percevic was also our commanding officer there. He insisted on strict military discipline and would allow nothing else. We practised all day, fully armed and equipped, running and crawling like mice. We didn't even feel like eating, so help me Christ. Let us pour another one, sir, and then we'll go home. There'll be plenty of time for talk, we have almost one month of preparation for our task left... - the Captain said, getting up from the table.
- Yes, I agree with you. It's too much to bear, I don't know how I can wait for the day God gave us for our task. For, you know... - Gutic tried to continue the conversation although he could barely stand upright, but the Captain cut him short.
- Tell me, sir, before we part, who is in charge of guard duty here? Why, the guard who is on duty now cannot even stand to attention. He cannot salute an officer properly. Has anyone taught the local Ustashi how to salute? One's right hand is raised at an angle of 45 degrees, the body is held upright, the eyes are directed at the officer at hand, a passing column or military funeral procession. Precisely the way our great allies, the Germans, do. Our fine Headman had totally accepted the strict German, the real fascist, discipline. For even a minor infraction, a strict disciplinary measure is meted out, for violation of the Ustashi oath, insurrection or desertion, a bullet is put through the culprit's head! What do you say to that? - the Captain asked in a hoarse but firm voice, putting on his overcoat with great effort.
- Has anything of the sort ever happened? - Dr Gutic inquired.
- Of course it has! On the isle of Lipari, in the fortress called Castello, dating from the era of the Roman Empire, our Headman immediately established the so-called "la casa del tormenti" for those who violate the Ustashi code. Suffice it to say that, apart from other disciplinary measures of the strictest kind, he had about one hundred sworn Ustashi shot. He even wanted to have Dr Branimir Jelic, a prominent fighter for the Ustashi cause, shot for insubordination. A Turk from Foca named Kasap was also sentenced to death, but was pardoned on condition that he should execute those sentenced to death. He is now the best slaughterer in our Second Battalion. We may talk more about this on another occasion...
- Yes, yes, on another occasion... But I would really like to know what Dr Jelic got sentenced for - the host insisted, barely managing to get up from the table.
- As I said: for insubordination. He objected to the Headman that it wasn't advisable, not even for the sake of the advancement of the movement, to have so many young Ustashi, true Croat nationalists, executed. To which the Headman retorted: "Jelic, each and every one of us has to prepare himself for our future task of exterminating Serbs, Jews and Gypsies in the Independent State of Croatia-to-be. And we shall have all those who do not respect the Ustashi oath executed. Let our men practise, as of now, executing and torturing the insubordinate elements, be they from our own ranks. You, too, as I see, are insubordinate, and you should know what awaits you in such a case..." But a few people from the CUH, the Central Ustashi Headquarters, close to the Headman intervened on behalf of Dr Jelic, and he survived. And now: ready for the Homeland! - the Captain shouted, standing to attention in accordance with the Book of Regulations.
- Ready for the homeland! - replied Dr Viktor Gutic, clumsily trying to imitate the manner of his guest.
Copyright © 1998 Jovan Babic
Copyright © 1998 Zaduzbina Petar Kocic, Banja Luka - Beograd
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