This period of the year, the end of March, always reminds me of the ugly events in my country back in 1999.
I remember March 24 of that year as if it were yesterday.
I arrived from work tired, I was working through the student cooperative, helping my parents with the household budget (instead of studying, which I needed more at the time). I was laying down to take a nap, when I heard noise from the TV in the living room. "Aggression. Bombing. NATO...".
I wasn't overly interested in foreign policy at the time, but I knew that our government at that time had messed something up, and that shit was about to happen.
The ringing of the landline completely woke me up and my friend called me.
At around 9:00 p.m., the bombing of our country began.
He knew that, his brother worked in television, they had news from all over the country. You couldn't find news on our state television, just like today, it was satellite (today social networks).
I am reminded of the fear we all collectively experienced in those first days when NATO started dropping shells over our skies.
In those first days, we were not sure what our fate was and whether we were doomed to perish and suffer.I don't have a single picture from that period, although it is necessary for #TBT this Thursday, but even if I had it, the question is whether I would post it, because I don't remember any good moments from that period.
Watching this curtain in the theater last night, it reminds me of that period.
26 years ago, on March 27, I didn't know if the curtain over our (or my life) would be lifted and allow us to live or if it would remain down forever and eternal darkness would cover us.
Yes, I was afraid in those first days.
After that, our well-known stubbornness worked in us, we protested in the streets, challenging the bombers to target us and painted targets on our heads, we called on NATO soldiers to march into our country and attack our homes and lives, which would have led to a more equal conflict, but that did not happen... We were attacked from the air as long as the aggression lasted.
And in those first days, the fear I felt remained buried deep inside me.
How did I feel those days? Small, tiny, scared...
And I had to work and go to work.
The feeling of fear that grew in me during those days, I would not wish on anyone.
And one of the situations, when I was most scared, is the one that I will now share with you in the #reflections community, because as I wrote, I don't have any pictures for #TBT.
The morning after the start of the bombing, 6:15 a.m., March 25, I get out of bed broken after a sleepless night for fear of what will happen tomorrow and go to work.
The company where I worked as an assistant at the time was involved in the transportation of consumer goods.
We separated the goods all over Serbia.
On that day, the owner of the company decided to work properly and fulfill his contracted deliveries, without asking the drivers what they thought about it and regardless of the announced shelling attacks.
With the truck loaded, we cross the Danube near Beška and pass Novi Sad to Subotica.
We cover the 200 km road quickly, because there is no one on the road.
No matter who it is, when just 15h ago, the war started, in which the outcome is very unfavorable for us.
We finish delivering the goods, talk to our families back home on the phone, and they report: "On the CNN news, NATO announced that bridges will be bombed during the day, as strategic targets".
And we are separated from home by several bridges...
We headed home.
Adrenaline in us made us not notice how our way to the first big bridge passed.
The Danube near Beška was bridged by a 2200m long bridge.
We prayed to God that in those few minutes during the duration of the air danger warning, while we were driving a truck over the bridge, bombs from NATO planes would not fall on us.
We prayed and hit the gas.
Fear is at its maximum, palms are sweating, our pulse is fast, pupils are dilated, all that can be heard in the truck cabin is the hum of the engine.
Two minutes, like an eternity.
When we reached the other side of the bridge and found ourselves again on the Vojvodina plain, there was fear again.
Yes, we have crossed one big bridge, but we are moving towards Belgrade, and on our route, there is another one waiting for us, the Gazela bridge in the center of the city, which can also represent the goal.
The curtain didn't come down permanently on us those days, the "show" that started at the end of March lasted a full 77 days.
During that time, buildings, refinery, bridges, military barracks, military airports were bombed... There were also some situations in which we rejoiced, but we will talk about that another time.
And we? All that time we were there, at the bomber's crosshairs, in fear or spite, it depended on the situation.
And the situation on that first day after the start of the attack, when we were crossing bridges with a truck during the air threat, remains in my memory to this day as one of the times when I was most scared in my life (without seeing with my own eyes the threat I was afraid of).
I hope so, and for that reason never again!
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That first night, away from my parents I spent in a bunker in NS, underground. I try not to think about those times or remember them and the feeling of fear we had.
But I have one photo, here it comes for your post.
I'm sorry that I reminded you of that terrible time in our lives with this post.
I passed OK in that lottery, and I was able to find myself on the bridge at the moment of shelling.
Thank you for the picture, an addition to my post 🙂
Somewhere in the cottage I have pictures with those targets on our heads, from the rallies on those same bridges, but I don't have them at hand.
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