6

At four o'clock sharp, the first vehicle, containing the headquarters of "Operation Little Draculas", stopped in front of the house of the Greek-Orthodox family of Djurdje Glamocanin from Lower Drakulic. Its headlights were immediately switched off. One after another, the other vehicles arrived and pulled up behind it. The snow had almost stopped falling and only an occasional snowflake drifted by. In accordance with the instructions issued before, none of the men from the headquarters vehicle made a sound. The same held true for the units that followed. No sound was heard from the home of the aforementioned Greek-Orthodox family or from its surroundings either, except from a very brief miaowing of a cat.

- We have overlooked something, after all: we should have poisoned the local cats, too! - Dr Gutic said in a barely audible whisper, leaning his head towards Captain Mišolov.

- There is nothing to worry about, Doctor. This Glamocanin fellow is in a German concentration camp, according to Friar Miroslav, and only the remaining members of his family, predominantly children, are here. Friar Filipovic knows all these Greek-Orthodox families like the back of his hand. He knows them all and hates them with all his might because of their refusal to be converted to our faith, so none of them shall escape him today. You must have seen the pleasure with which he read out the names of slaughtered Serbs. A Satan inside a friar's cassock or a friar inside Satan...! - whispered the Captain, marvelling at the parish priest from the Petricevac monastery in a subdued fashion.

- You own surname also testifies to the fact that no-one and nothing can escape you, if I may be allowed to observe. Mišolov! It sounds as if your ancestors were dangerous and cunning like a cat in its nocturnal mouse-hunt, the sort of hunt that ours will be today... - Gutic observed jocularly, while the Captain just dismissed this remark with a casual wave of his hand.

The officers, non-coms and Ustashi from the Captain's unit, proven so many times before, were coming out of the arriving vehicles in total silence. In the pitch-black darkness, it soon became evident that some of them had wasted no time in disposing of their grape brandy rations, so that the smell of brandy wafted through the air despite the cold. Still, they hadn't forgotten the most essential thing of all: for the purpose of keeping their presence a secret, they kept their mouths shut.

A little while later, all the officers and non-coms gathered around Friar Miroslav emerged from the darkness to join the Captain and Dr Gutic without a sound.

- Come on, gentlemen, let this be an auspicious start of our operation. Here we go! - Friar Filipovic hissed through clenched teeth, and for a moment it seemed as if a tiny flash of lightning burst out of his mouth.

- With the help of the Almighty! - the Captain added, holding his hands in prayer against his chest, hastening towards Glamocanin's house.

The parish priest immediately knocked at the door sharply, then called the hostess's name in a subdued voice:

- Djuja, Djurdjija, open up! Open up, it's us... It's me, Friar Miroslav, open up... I have good news for you from Djuradj in Germany...

From the inside of the house came the sounds of movement, then the low voice of the hostess:

- Here I come. Just wait till I put something on. Here I come, Friar Miroslav, I won't be a minute...

At that moment one of the children started crying, then another one. Not paying any attention to the children crying, Djuja opened the door slowly, holding a weakly glowing flashlight in her left hand. Seeing the many unknown figures of officers and non-coms behind Friar Filipovic's back, she opened her big eyes wide in fright, started trembling all over and dropped the flashlight onto the threshold.

- Do forgive me... Just a moment... Here... - she stammered while the Captain quickly switched on his own flashlight, whereupon the woman picked hers up from the ground.

- You are here, too, Doctor Gutic - she said, evidently in some surprise, then invited those gathered around the door to come in, managing somehow to switch on her flashlight.

- Yes, it's me... Are all the members of your family here? I repeat, all of them! Call them all here at once... - he ordered.

The two children were still crying but the woman paid no attention to them, slowly waking up the rest of the family, calling each one by his or her name. The children and the grown-ups filed into the room lazily, yawning, with eyes half-open. One of the children screamed.

- How many are there, Friar Miroslav? - the Captain asked almost casually.

- It doesn't matter, we'll "count them up" right away. There would be eleven children - he said with utter calm.

- But it does. Call out their names, just in case... Let the adults answer for themselves and point out the children. Or they can hold them up so that we can see them.

- All right, then: Glamocanin Gajo, the head of the family, right? Then his wife, Joka, his daughter-in-law, Djuja, grandson Boško, granddaughters Dušanka, Darinka, Jovanka and Sava, grandson Milan, granddaughters Radojka and Bosiljka, then another grandson, Vladislav, and granddaughters Gordana, Djuja and Vasiljka. That makes fifteen of them in all.

- Sixteen by my count! How come? - Dr Bilogrivic wondered.

- My father, Risto, is the sixteenth - explained the hostess readily - that one, standing over there. He came to visit us last night and stayed the night...

- Well, that's all right, then. Now, woman, which child of yours is the youngest? - Friar Miroslav asked resolutely.

- This little one here, Vasiljka... She's barely fifteen months old.

- Well, gentlemen, officers and non-coms, or as Mr Gutic put it, little Draculas, the time has finally come for us to begin our task - Friar Filipovic said, quickly grabbing the baby by the hair and piercing her tiny neck with a dagger that he had kept out of sight until that moment. The baby merely whimpered helplessly, croaking out something like "Mum", whereupon the woman, Djuja, pounced upon the parish priest like a young lioness. She shouted something that sounded like a curse at him but there ensued such a noise and commotion among this family encircled by the Ustashi that it was impossible to make out a single word. In the dim light, somebody's dagger rose and flashed, then pierced Djuja's neck from behind. With supernatural strength, she managed to pull her pierced neck free of the dagger, then sank her teeth into Corporal Bakota's hand. Somebody's Serb-basher smashed against her skull and she fell motionless onto the bloody floor. The remaining Glamocanins just stood there, without a word or movement, as if under a spell, so Friar Filipovic addressed the Ustashi in a truly holy trance:

- The Almighty has brought you here, you should all follow this example. And I'll say a prayer to our Lord - he added, licking his bloody dagger with his tongue - so that all your sins shall be forgiven in advance. Come on, Ustashi, the Almighty and our Headman are watching carefully!

Hearing his words, the officers and non-coms got down to work in earnest: Serb-bashers rose and fell, daggers flashed, the Captain used only an axe, so that the Glamocanins had no time to utter a sound. Only indistinct brief cries and croaks were heard, blood flowed everywhere and the brains spilling from their skulls formed little islands on the floor. In death throes, the limbs and bodies of a few of them made barely perceptible twitches, following which they would freeze forever.

- Call a few men over here to get rid of this garbage, move them to one of the side rooms - the Captain ordered cheerfully, still holding the axe in his right hand - and let some of them immediately make their way to the Rakovac coal mine, is that what it's called? You, Reverend Filipovic, lead the way because you know the Serb cattle best. Doctor Gutic, Doctor Bilogrivic shall remain here and make this our headquarters. We'll put three men on guard duty in front of the headquarters, that should do. And, Friar Miroslav, don't forget to wish those Greek-Orthodox miners the traditional miners' "Good luck" - the Captain said, roaring with laughter at this truly witty remark of his.

The men who came over to clear the room did so quickly and very efficiently, whereupon the members of the operation headquarters remained alone.

- I didn't expect such efficient work myself. Great, wonderful! Allow me, gentlemen, while their filthy blood still adorns our hands, to congratulate you. First you, Captain... - Dr Gutic croaked, throwing his axe upon the pile of dead bodies, while indescribable joy poured through his thick glasses.

- Wonderfully put, dear Doctor, but do let us wash this, as you say, filthy blood off our hands. And then, in view of what Friar Miroslav said, that this was the richest family in the village, we'll take a closer look and search for hiding places. It would be a shame, wouldn't it, if we left this prosperous home empty-handed - the Captain joked again.

- Now I see how right I was to observe that you were a real mouse-catcher. Nothing, truly nothing can escape you or be hidden from you. So let us search this rich house for about half an hour, until the first couriers start arriving with reports from the field - Gutic added readily, making his way to the room on the left at once.

For a while, only the sounds of breaking and pulling down furniture could be heard, followed by the triumphant cries of those who were successful in their search. The first one to return after a short while was the Captain, still holding a flashlight in his left hand.

- This will be quite sufficient for me - he cried, carrying a large bag full of ladies' jewellery, gold as well as silver - and you keep on searching...

- This will do for me - Dr Gutic echoed his words a little while later, showing a piece of oil-cloth full of gold coins, which shone quite dazzlingly even though the light in the room was dim.

- I must hand it to you, Captain: a real mouse-catcher you've proved to be yet again! Actually, I had heard about this particular hiding place, behind the icon of their Mother of God, from a Greek-Orthodox prisoner of ours, a neighbour of these Glamocanins, who was tortured in every conceivable way. And you scented the spoils all by yourself. I congratulate you most sincerely... - Dr Gutic went on glibly.

Dr Bilogrivic was the only one to return empty-handed, weary and depressed. However, Dr Gutic cheered him up at once.

- Here you are, my dear Guardian - he said gaily - four gold coins, one for each arm of the Cross. One for the wise Ustashi head, one for the sharp Ustashi tongue, one for deft Ustashi hands and one for the enduring Ustashi legs that have faithfully carried me everywhere...

There was a smart knock at the door, then the door opened and a young man emerged out of the darkness.

- Ready for the homeland! Courier Boban, coming from Friar Filipovic, sir. I report: all the Greek-Orthodox miners from the night shift, eight of them in all, killed with Serb-bashers, pickaxes and daggers.

- Dismissed, Sub-Corporal! - ordered The Captain, satisfied with the report, adding: "As soon as you finish off that first shift, let me know immediately..."

No sooner had the lad left than another knock at the door was heard. Two more couriers arrived:

- Ready for the homeland! Sub-Corporal Matuša, sent by Sergeant Major Mioc from Lower Drakulic, the households of Glamocanin and Stolic. Seventy of these Greek-Orthodox elements slaughtered up to now. The Sergeant Major reports that everything is going according to plan, things couldn't be better, only the men in his unit polished off their grape brandy rations long ago, so he gave orders that I was not to return without extra supplies - the young Matuša recited his report, then, somewhat embarrassed, shrugged his shoulders.

- Dismissed, Sub-Corporal! And tell the Sergeant Major that his men are to drink Serb blood instead of brandy today. Is that clear? Wait for the other courier and leave together with him...

- Ready for the Homeland! Sub-Corporal Šuravanja, sent by Sub-Sergeant Bakota, Lower Drakulic, the right-hand side of the road, the households of Stankovic. Brkic and... Begging your pardon, sir, I forgot what they were called. Oh, yes, the Kuruzovic household! By the time of my departure, sixty-three of them slaughtered. Everything going...

- Dismissed! Tell Bakota to hurry up a bit, things will proceed more smoothly while it's still dark and the Serb litter is still asleep.

One after another, at very brief intervals, couriers kept arriving at the headquarters bringing in most satisfactory reports on how "Operation Little Draculas" was being carried out. The Captain and Dr Gutic assiduously crossed out the Greek-Orthodox families form the "List for the distribution of food and other necessities" for Lower and Upper Drakulic, and those present could see the expressions of immense joy on their faces despite the dim light. Bilogrivic, the parish priest, was so excited that he couldn't sit still, so he paced to and fro across the room, rubbing his hands with pleasure, murmuring prayers indistinctly. Their satisfaction was all too understandable: even though it was barely dawning, the Stankovics, Brkics and Kuruzovics from Lower Drakulic had all been slaughtered already, and further good news was expected from Upper Drakulic. Indeed, it arrived in due course.

- Ready for the homeland! - a strapping fellow began with a smart Ustashi salute, then went on: "Ustashi private Rimac, being sent by Sergeant Major Drinjak, who reports that the households of Piljagic, Cušic and Katalina have been slaughtered, ninety-two Greek-Orthodox elements in all. No resistance has been encountered so far because the element of surprise is working entirely in our favour and the men in the unit are doing their work most assiduously and diligently. Captain, sir, may I..."

- Dismissed, Rimac! And tell the Sergeant Major to keep up the good work. Do you know how Škogrlj and Zuban are doing? They are to your right, dealing with the Mitrovics, Brkovics... Who else was there? Ah, here they are... the Stijakovics, Savanovics and... And then there are some Cvijetics, Kocics and Amidžics left. What's the situation there, then? - the Captain asked, rising from the table.

- I can only tell you what I have seen with my own eyes on my way here, Captain, sir: there's no white snow there at all, not a patch of it. Only red, blood-red snow! And rivulets of blood flowing down into the ditches. That unit is carrying out your orders in a truly heroic manner. Their couriers, who set off at the same time as myself, told me that those Greek-Orthodox elements had gathered there for the distribution of food. Those couriers then went off the road a bit. They said, sir, that only a fool would go back home with an empty knapsack today. You know...

- Yes, yes! All right, I'll remember that. So, despite my express order that no-one was to take a single button and that the belongings of those slaughtered were to be taken to Banja Luka, they have started looting and pillaging. As soon as "Operation Little Draculas" is brought to its close, I shall have those two court-martialled. Looting and pillaging, then... - the Captain said, shaking his head angrily.

The morning of February 7th was very cold indeed. The snow had stopped falling altogether, it was Saturday, so it appeared that the villagers were not in any particular hurry to get up. At almost regular intervals, the couriers came, bringing reports to the effect that, as each Ustashi unit reached a particular household, its members were left sleeping "the sleep of the just", "like logs", they hadn't even had time to start proper fires in their homes. The effect, obviously, was one of total surprise. Therefore, the people in the Glamocanin house, the operation headquarters, did not bother to suppress the expression of triumph on their faces. They kept on adding up the numbers of slaughtered Greek-Orthodox villagers in their lists for the distribution of food and other necessities on the basis of the reports the couriers were bringing.

At about nine-thirty, two couriers with fresh reports from the Rakovac coal mine and Upper Drakulic arrived. The first one brought the news from Friar Filipovic that all the Greek-Orthodox miners from the first shift, thirty-nine in all, had been identified and sent off with a miners' "Good luck", that is to say - killed.

- Do tell us, Sub-Corporal, how it went, I'd very much like to know!

- Why, Captain, sir, the parish priest turned out to be a real joker. First of all, he checked the identity cards of all the miners, separating the Serbs from the Croats and Muslims among them, keeping the identity cards of the Serbs to himself. "Those who are without their identity cards now - he said gaily - line up here so we can check whether they are able-bodied miners."

When the Serbs had lined up dutifully, he had the Ustashi in our unit tie them up, then went behind their backs and started hitting one after another on the back of their heads with some sort of mallet. As each one fell down, he would say: "This one is not an able-bodied miner! Nor this one! Nor this one! Nor this one..." And so it went, down to the last one of them. The moment they went down, the Ustashi would take over and start hitting them with pickaxes. Just a few of them let out a sound or two. Now the Croat and Muslim miners are burying them in the snow. The entrance to the mine is awash with blood. So...

- A very good description, Sub-Corporal. Dismissed! - the Captain said.

The other courier briefly reported that an additional one hundred and twenty-five Greek-Orthodox elements from Lower Drakulic had been "sent off to meet their Maker".

- Quot servus habemus, totidem habemus hostes! - Dr Gutic exclaimed all of a sudden.

- What was that you said, Doctor? - the Captain asked, puzzled.

- He was quoting Seneca - Dr Bilogrivic explained readily - "The number of slaves that we have is the number of our enemies!" That is to say: only dead slaves cannot be our enemies...

- Never mind that, what precisely did you mean by those words, Doctor Gutic?

- Sirs, let me remind you of my words spoken in Gracanica on June 10th last year: "We are the victors, they are the vanquished, we are the masters, they are our slaves, and we shall wipe them off the living space of the Independent State of Croatia. The great German Führer also said in his Mein Kampf that he would clear the "deutsche lebensraum", that is, the living space of the German people, of non-natives. Speaking of which, I have to take a little walk to the school in Šargovac... - Dr Gutic added enthusiastically.

Thinking that he was joking, the two men laughed heartily, but he really set off for the school.

- Mr Blaž Gutic hasn't called from the town headquarters yet, which certainly means that no-one there knows anything about "Operation Little Draculas". Is it your impression, Reverend, that everything is proceeding according to plan? - the Captain asked Dr Bilogrivic.

- Quite so! - was his terse reply.

Then a very unexpected and unpleasant report arrived.

- Ready for the homeland! - the courier said, out of breath, then added: "Captain, sir, Corporal Mudroslov is dead! Sergeant Major Krželj immediately sent me to report this to you most urgently...

- What? What did you say, Corporal? I didn't catch your name. Calm down. What happened there, then? Who, in God's name, killed Corporal Mudroslov? Let me hear all about it...

- Captain, sir, Corporal Špiranovic, being sent by...

- Sergeant Major Krželj, I've heard that already. Go on, in the name of God...

- Why, Corporal Mudroslov entered the Greek-Orthodox home of the Todorinovics and...

- And was shot by some Greek-Orthodox element who had a revolver hidden on his person or what?

- No, he was killed by Sergeant Kasap. The Turk from Foca, who is in Sergeant major Krželj's unit. You know him well: he is an old Ustashi, or so they say, and used to be a butcher; they also say of him that he is the best slaughterer in our Second Battalion...

- Of course I know Kasap. How did it come about that he killed Corporal Mudroslov? Have you only heard about it or did you see it with your own eyes?

- I saw and heard everything, I'm from that unit, too. Sergeant Kasap got angry over Corporal Mudroslov's inefficiency and...

- Sit down, Corporal, do! And tell us everything, right from the start...

- Well, the slaughter in that part of the village began at the same time in all the Serb houses. Corporal Mudroslov had entered one, and no sound came from within for quite a long time. Then he actually killed the host and...

- And what?

- He ran out through the door, vomiting violently. Sergeant Kasap had already slaughtered three families, thirty-five Greek-Orthodox elements in all, and happened to be passing by that house at the moment. "Whatever is the matter, Mudroslov, you aren't pregnant by any chance, are you, vomiting like that?" - he asked him ironically. "No... I killed the old man and couldn't go on." "What do you mean, you couldn't go on"? - Sergeant Kasap asked.

- For a while, Corporal Mudroslov sat on a log, holding his head in his hands, then he went on: "I was overcome by a feeling of powerlessness and shame. Even though he seemed to have sensed what was to happen, and probably heard what was happening outside, that Serb peasant was very civil to me. He called his daughter-in-law, an incredibly beautiful young woman, and told her to bring us some brandy. Holding a baby in her arms, she poured both of us a glass. Strangely enough, the baby did not cry, it was not afraid. On the contrary, it held its little arms out towards me, trying to reach the shiny letter "U" on my cap. There it was, gurgling merrily, as if about to laugh..." "Go on, go on!", Sergeant Kasap said to him impatiently. "The old man talked, at some length, about the bad harvest they had had the year before, about his son, that young woman's husband, who had been captured by the Germans, and how difficult and worrisome it was for him, an old man, to get his family through this terrible winter... Then he took the bottle of brandy from his daughter-in-law and poured us another glass. Then he took a tobacco box out of his pocket. He offered me some, slowly rolling up a cigarette for himself. I refused, saying that I didn't smoke, not taking my eyes off that young woman and her baby. At one moment, it seemed to me that it was not that woman with a baby in her arms standing in front of me, but the Mother of God, holding little Jesus to her bosom. And I noticed another thing: milk dripped from her left nipple, slowly drenching the thin blouse she had on..." "And that gave you a hard-on! You wanted to fuck her, why didn't you say so at once" - the Sergeant laughed, as did all the other Ustashi present there. "No, it wasn't that - Corporal Mudroslov tried to justify himself - but that woman really looked like the statue of the Mother of God, holding little Jesus Christ in her arms..."

Dr Bilogrivic, who had been listening most intently to every word the Corporal said, protested all of a sudden:

- Never again, Corporal, are you to utter those blasphemous words, comparing that schismatic scum and the Blessed Mother of God. I repeat: never again! Go on, tell us what happened, but no comparisons of that sort, please...

- Sergeant Kasap demanded that Corporal Mudroslov should get on with the task forthwith, or else...

- Or else... Or else, what? - asked Captain Mišolov nervously.

- Or else - this is exactly how the Sergeant put it - he would personally shoot Corporal Mudroslov like a dog. And leave his bones to mad dogs and wolves to gnaw at...

- And what did Corporal Mudroslov say to that? Hurry up, finish your story, other couriers have been waiting too long in front of the headquarters to give their reports - the Captain said.

- He replied that he was no slaughterer of little children and old people but a humanist who, he said, had been studying for the purpose of serving the Croatian people honourably, in a free and civilised Croatian state, and that he had never sworn to be a murderer. And that what had shaken him most was the fact that the Greek-Orthodox oldster he had killed seemed so calm and collected, like an Indian guru, ready to attain some sort of nirvana. For the old man had said to him: "I know what your business here is. Get it over with, lad. I only beg of you to spare this grandson of mine, little Radoslav, I beg you like the one and only God, do not kill him. Here, start with me." And then... Then Sergeant Kasap, still holding his giant dagger in his right hand, ordered him again to finish what he had started. This the Corporal opposed most resolutely, whereupon the Sergeant slashed right through his neck and held the cut-off head of Corporal Mudroslov by the hair. That's how it all happened...

- Corporal Špiranovic, you are to return to that house as soon as possible and convey my strictest order to the Sergeant: no-one is to know of this, under threat of summary execution. Whoever knows about his, including you, is to report here forthwith. Is that clear!? Dismissed - the Captain said sharply, letting a new courier in immediately. For the purpose of saving time he didn't request the man to identify himself in accordance with the Regulation Book.

- Sub-Sergeant, tell us very briefly who sent you and with what sort of news.

- Captain, sir, Sub-Lieutenant Boban reports from Šargovac that at least two thirds of the Greek-Orthodox inhabitants of this village have been slaughtered already. He said something about brandy, for the sake of...

- Convey my congratulations to him, and as for brandy, tell him we'll be drinking it tonight. Dismissed!

- Excellently put. Although I see that the operation is proceeding most efficiently - it is eleven o'clock only, and we have already exterminated, let me add up the figures, about 1,500 of the vermin... - Dr Bilogrivic concluded joyously, crossing himself enthusiastically.

- Ready for the homeland! Captain, sir, Sub-Sergeant Križan, being sent by Stožernik Keljan and Friar Filipovic from Motike. The report is as follows: all the local Greek-Orthodox elements had gathered in their homes, expecting, as they said, to be given food. All the Vasics and Todics, the largest households there, have been killed, then the Maleševics, Brkovics, Stijakovics and Kovacevics. There are still some Kneževics, Šešics and Miljevics left. Stožernik Keljan also ordered me to convey to you his request that a certain Doctor Gutic should come over there, which I didn't quite understand. He added that, God permitting, the job would be finished by one o'clock in the afternoon...

- An excellent report, Sub-Sergeant. Thank you, dismissed - the Captain replied to Križan. When he had left, the Captain added:

- What did I tell you, with Friar Filipovic you don't know whether he's Satan disguised as a priest or a priest inside Satan! You see, all this snow and the cold couldn't prevent him from reaching Motike from Rakovac...

- Whoever guesses correctly who was with me at the school in Šargovac will get three gold coins from me! - Dr Gutic shouted the moment he entered the room, all sweaty.

- Who could know that! - the Captain retorted almost indifferently, adding up figures and crossing names off the list in front of him.

- Friar Miroslav! Friar Miroslav, do you hear me?

- How come? - Dr Bilogrivic asked, being the first one to recover from the shock.

- Ah, how come, how come! He got himself a good horse somewhere, all saddled, that's how, and he...

- What did I tell you: Satan inside a priest or a priest inside Satan?! - the Captain retorted joyously, then asked:

- How did things go there, how much work left to do? Do tell us...

- None! Mission accomplished. "Quot servos habemus, totidem habemus hostes!" Not a single little slave did we spare, so we shall have no adult enemies at all...

- Doctor, shall we finally get a straight report from you? - asked the Captain a little impatiently.

- Well, there was a bit of a clash between the two of us, myself and Friar Miroslav.

- A clash? Over what? - Dr Bilogrivic was very interested to know.

- Well, that was at the very beginning. He said that, as a priest who taught the local Catholic children Christian Science, he knew each one of them full well. The only thing to be done was to separate them from the rest and then immediately proceed with the slaughter of the Greek-Orthodox litter...

- And as for you? - Dr Bilogrivic asked again.

- As a Doctor of Law, I insisted that the procedure should be conducted in a regular manner: that there should be a roll-call, that the children should be separated with the utmost caution, that every detail should be rechecked... And that only when all that had been done most conscientiously should we get down to business...

- Do cut the story short, Mr Gutic. How was the matter resolved then? - the Captain asked with a note of boredom in his voice.

- Friar Miroslav acted on my advice, after all. However, even that didn't help much. As if they had sensed what was coming, no sooner had we started separating them than those little bastards started screaming and running up and down the aisles so that we had great trouble catching them...

All of a sudden, Dr Gutic closed his eyes, raised his head and went on, as if in delirium:

- Blood! Blood flowing all around. There was Friar Miroslav, holding a Serb-basher in his right hand and a dagger in his left hand. This man of God walking this earth, fulfilling the heavenly task. The Serb litter climbing onto the desks and windows, hiding under the desks... Not a single one of them could escape him. He mowed them down with his Serb-basher, slaughtered them with his dagger. Cut their throats with his teeth while they lay unconscious. Then he laid down both his Serb-basher and his dagger and started capturing them alive. He would just grab hold of them by the legs, swing their bodies with all his might and smash them against the wall. Their heads burst open, brains poured out, the heap of dead bodies kept growing. And so it went, down to the last, fifty-sixth specimen of Serb litter... Only our Holy Faith could have given him such strength! Quot servi tot hostes! - he opened his eyes, directing his gaze towards the Captain and Dr Bilogrivic, who, apparently, were still under the effect of the report about Mudroslov and Kasap. Actually, it seemed that they could hardly wait for Dr Gutic's trance to end. The latter had no inkling of the reason for this sudden change in their attitude, so shortly afterwards, he fell silent, feeling almost ashamed of himself.

It was about one o'clock in the afternoon. The couriers were coming at less frequent intervals, bringing reports of fewer and fewer slaughtered Greek-Orthodox elements. The last ones to come just said: "We have quite finished there, no survivors..."

In place of the couriers, officers and non-coms started arriving from the devastated villages, accompanied by their units. They were bloody all over, some of them covered with clotted blood to such an extent that one could hardly make out their eyes. They were led by the Petricevac parish priest, Friar Filipovic, whose face, also covered with blood, shone with joy. Although extremely tired, they gave the impression of men who had finished a job of the utmost importance, not only for the state but also for themselves personally. From the direction of Lower Drakulic, the sounds of a ganga were heard:

It is every Ustashi's delight
To slit Serb throats with all his might!
It is every Ustashi's delight... Oy-oy-oy-oy

From the direction of Šargovac, there came a well-known Ustashi song, full of noble and patriotic sentiments:

Amidst the smell of gunpowder, the sounds of gunfire,
A wounded Ustashi lies, about to expire...

Another song was heard, its sounds mingling with those of the one coming from the direction of Šargovac, but this new one was somewhat louder and more high-spirited, conveying a powerful image:

Amidst the smell of gunpowder, the sounds of gunfire,
The Serb litter lie slaughtered, slowly they expire...

- Captain, sir, shall we take the men to church at once, bloody as they are, or shall we have them wash off the blood first? - Guardian Bilogrivic asked, having made a proper Ustashi salute.

- We'll see - the Captain replied curtly, then got up quickly, straightening the gun holster on his belt, and shook Dr Viktor Gutic's right hand:

- I declare "Operation Little Draculas" completed and congratulate you with all my heart! You are herewith forgiven for insulting our boys somewhat by calling them little Draculas. For, today they have proved themselves to be true new-age Draculas - resurrected Draculas!

Content | Next: 7th chapter

Copyright © 1998 Jovan Babic
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