Page 17 of A Call to Home (Women of the Resistance #3)

Bosnia

June 1943

Having broken out of the trap the Germans had set for them, the liberated Partisans swept like a horde of avenging angels through the villages of the plain. The advance guard of the First Proletarian Division had forced the breach in the encirclement and the rest, moving in small groups, had followed Tito and the Escort Battalion out. Others had succeeded in extricating themselves at other points. Now they were bent on revenge for the deaths of so many comrades and of the thousands of wounded who had been trapped on the Piva plateau.

At the first taste of freedom Tito and his escort spurred their horses forward and Alix thought she was going to be left behind, but at the last moment Nikola wheeled his mount and rode back to her.

‘Come up!’ He leaned from the saddle and stretched out his hand. Alix grasped it and swung herself up to sit behind him. Summoning the last reserves from his starving horse he galloped to the head of his men, and they surged into the village of Jelec. All the local villages had been taken over by companies of German soldiers and their Ustashe allies, mustered to provide reinforcements for the ring of steel the Nazi generals had thrown round the mountains. The civilians had either fled or were in hiding. The Germans were taken by surprise. As Tito’s men charged in, they tumbled out of their billets and grabbed their rifles but the Partisans rode them down. Nikola was slashing to right and left with his bayonet.

Alix still carried the rifle she had picked up after Olga was wounded and she fired until her ammunition was exhausted. A figure in the field grey of the Wehrmacht grabbed for the horse’s bridle and, holding herself in the saddle with her knees, she reversed the weapon and used it as a club, knocking him sideways. ‘Bravo!’ Nikola shouted breathlessly. They rode on and she struck out at the heads of anyone in her path.

When there were no more signs of opposition, Tito and his escort stopped their headlong rush and paused to take stock, allowing the men and women on foot to catch up. Their first thought was food, but a search of the houses produced almost nothing. It was a poor village and the German troops had commandeered what little there was to eat.

As soon as their forces were gathered together Tito gave the order to move on. Alix knew that the aim was to join up with the Bosnian Division that controlled the forested land on the far side of the plain, but before they could do that there were two barriers to cross. The first was the main road between Foca and Kalinovik, which was a main artery for the transport of German troops and supplies coming from Sarajevo and was bound to be guarded. Beyond that was the railway line connecting Sarajevo to Visegrad, which would also be well fortified.

As they left the village one of Nikola’s men rode up to him leading a big grey horse by the bridle.

‘Spotted one of the bastards trying to make off on this,’ he explained. ‘I thought Comrade Alix might have a better use for him.’

Alix thanked him, slid down from her position behind Nikola and climbed onto the grey. She patted his sweat-streaked neck and murmured, ‘Okay, old chap. You’re with me now. We’ll take care of each other.’

‘What are you going to call him?’ Nikola asked.

Alix thought a moment. ‘Moonlight.’

As they moved on she found she had her hands full. Moonlight was in better condition than the Partisans’ famished horses and she had some difficulty persuading him that his place was alongside Nikola, not out in front. As he curvetted and danced Nikola looked across with a grin.

‘I believe you are enjoying that.’

Alix grinned back. ‘You know, I really am.’

She rode a little further before a memory nagged at her and she realised guiltily that she had not seen Olga since the breakout. She turned her horse and rode back along the line. She found Olga at the end, struggling along with the help of her husband.

Alix reined in and jumped down. ‘Olga! You shouldn’t be walking. Here, get up on Moonlight.’

Olga shook her head wearily. ‘I couldn’t. I don’t have the strength. Keep him. He will be more use to you.’

‘No!’ Alix insisted. ‘You need him more than I do. Vlad, help me to get her up.’

Vladimir picked Olga up and between them they managed to manoeuvre her into the saddle. It was obvious that the process caused her great pain but she bore it silently, the only evidence in her ashen face and gritted teeth. Once mounted she recovered slowly and was able to hold herself in the saddle by gripping a handful of the horse’s mane with her uninjured hand. Alix took the reins over the horse’s head and led him, while Vladimir walked on the other side.

Dawn found a straggling column riding or trudging across a grassy plain dotted with clumps of trees and it was not long before the Luftwaffe spotted them. They dived for cover where they could, in ditches or under trees, as the planes flew over at treetop level, dropping bombs and strafing the column with their machine guns. At nightfall, exhausted and hungry, they huddled into a small valley and along the line the cooks lit small fires and boiled nettles and wild clover to fill empty stomachs. The only consolation was that here, at least, there was grass for the horses and mules. They were hobbled and set loose to graze.

Two Montenegrin brigades had been sent ahead to clear the way across the Foca to Kalinovic road and at dawn next morning the main body of the army followed. Crouching in the undergrowth bordering the road Alix, along with the rest, scanned the surroundings for signs of danger. Slewed across the road were three burnt-out German tanks. Other than that, the road was empty. Tito gave the order to advance and Nikola led the Escort Battalion across. Tito and the members of the Supreme Council followed. By nightfall the remaining troops, together with those wounded they had brought with them, were safely across.

‘Who was responsible for disabling those tanks?’ Tito asked when the Montenegrins rejoined the main body.

The captain looked slightly discomfited. ‘One of the lads didn’t obey the order to ditch all heavy weapons. He’d brought his anti-tank gun out with him. We were hiding in the ditch when we heard the tanks coming. He only had three shells left. He made all three count.’

Tito frowned. ‘That is rank insubordination.’ Then his face relaxed into a smile. ‘Tell the boy I’ll see he gets a medal when all this is over.’

Next day Tito ordered a contingent to go ahead and hold the crossing of the railway. The constant bombing and shelling they had endured had forced the column to break up into smaller units again as they sought cover and each group made improvised camps in whatever shelter they could find. The British agents had been given instructions by Tito to stay close to him and they now hunkered down with the members of the Supreme Council and the Escort Battalion. Alix took the short pause in their travels to study them more closely. The faces of all three were gaunt and strained and it occurred to her again that for them the abrupt transition from the safety and relative luxury of their former positions must have called for tremendous reserves of courage and endurance. The loss of Captain Stuart had hit them hard, but she had not heard one word of complaint. Only once she had heard Deakin mutter to one of the others ‘Just think. Only a day or two ago we were sitting in Cairo with full bellies.’

Looking round the group she noticed that Arso Rankovic was missing. He was one of Tito’s closest companions, a quiet man of great courage, and his absence was disturbing. Late in the afternoon he suddenly reappeared, carrying on his shoulders the carcass of a pig. He had ventured alone into a village a few miles away and found it deserted, with the pigs wandering loose. He had shot one and brought it back. A fire was built and they gathered round it in an atmosphere of suppressed excitement. The pig was placed on an improvised spit and Alix guessed that everyone was experiencing the same almost unbearable impatience as they watched the fat dripping into the flames and smelt the aroma of roasting pork. When at last the pig was pronounced done the cooks set to work with their knives and mess tins were held out. The same restraint held and nobody clamoured for their portion, but once each man had his share he fell to gobbling and slurping with no regard for the niceties of table manners. Alix, in the midst of her own eager gnawing and chewing, was amused to see the dignified Captain Deakin dribbling fat all down his uniform.

The next day scouts returned to say that the advance contingent was holding a section of the railway and a group of Bosnian Partisans had occupied the station at Pale, a few miles outside Sarajevo. After dark, Tito’s party crossed the last barrier between them and the relative safety of the forest and the disparate companies that now constituted the army followed. They were unmolested, though they could hear the sound of shelling to the north. They learned later that a German armoured train had shelled the station but had been kept at bay by the defenders.

Even though they were now no longer in danger of being surrounded by ground troops, the menace from the air continued. And though the forest was their own there was no support to be had in the nearby villages and towns. Many of the villages were populated by Muslims, who were hostile to both the communists and the Chetniks, while the Ustashe controlled the local towns. There were a few places left which were still under Chetnik control and they heard rumours of bands of Chetnik soldiers roaming the countryside, apparently operating without central authority. Tito’s ragged army was desperately in need of food, ammunition and medical supplies. He and Deakin conferred.

‘What help can we expect from the British?’ Tito asked.

‘If we can hold out the prospect of doing some real damage in the way of sabotage, I am sure we can expect a drop of explosives and I can make a strong case for that drop to include the supplies we need,’ Deakin replied. ‘But before I can make that request we need to be able to establish a secure dropping zone. We must be sure that the supplies don’t fall into the wrong hands.’

Tito nodded grimly. ‘That may not be easy, but if we move further north things should get better.’

They came to the village of Bogovici and found it deserted. Tito and his companions moved into an empty house and Alix went in search of Olga. She was almost too weak to keep her seat on the horse and Alix hastened to help Vladimir lift her down. As they did so a stench hit Alix’s nostrils and her stomach clenched. They had been so harassed by the constant air attacks and the need to keep moving that there had been no time to change dressings. Even Tito still wore the bloodstained bandage that had been wrapped around his arm on the day that Stuart was killed and Olga wounded. Alix had no nursing experience, but she had spent enough time in the hospital to know what that smell indicated. Vladimir knew it too.

‘Gas gangrene,’ he muttered as they carried Olga towards the nearest building. They both knew what that meant.

Alix opened the door of the simple cottage. There was only the one room, with a ladder leading up to sleeping quarters above, but it was empty and tolerably clean. There was a solid wooden table in the centre.

‘Lay her here,’ Alix said. ‘I’ll find Doctor Nikolis.’

The doctor was one of the few who had escaped from the Piva with a party of walking wounded and had joined Tito’s group. Two of the nurses had come with him. He came at once when Alix told him what she suspected and immediately confirmed her fears.

Olga said weakly, ‘I know what must be done. Just get on with it.’ She smiled at Vladimir. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t be able to work as a doctor, but I’ll be a teacher instead.’

There was just enough chloroform to render her unconscious. Alix was sent to fetch boiling water from the fire the cooks had lit, and summon the two nurses. Vladimir found a sheet up in the sleeping area to cover the table. It was rough and patched, but it was clean. Then, with Vladimir holding his wife’s head, Nikolis set to work. Alix had never seen an amputation close up and the sight, combined with the smell of putrefaction, made her feel sick, but she stayed where she was in case there was anything she could do to help.

Just as the doctor made his first incision they all heard the drone of a low-flying aircraft and moments later bullets thudded into the walls. As the noise faded Nikolis looked round.

‘Everyone okay? Then let’s get on.’

When the operation was over and Olga had regained consciousness one of the nurses offered her a shot of morphine to ease the pain.

Olga’s pale lips twitched into a smile. ‘No, Sanotka. Keep it to save some comrade’s life.’

It was only then that Vladimir sank onto a bench with a groan. A sliver of wood from the log wall had penetrated his calf and he was bleeding heavily. The wound required stitching but he refused painkillers, opting instead for a slug of slivovitz . Olga was now lying on a stretcher, wrapped in a blanket, and as soon as his wound was bandaged he hobbled over to sit beside her.

Seeing there was no more she could do, Alix went to report to Tito, but as she reached the house she heard the sound of hooves and a train of mules came into view, led by a slender figure with a sharply jutting white beard, who was mounted on a shaggy horse. The door of the house opened and Tito rushed out, followed by the others, and there were joyful greetings. Eager hands unloaded the mules and the man was led inside. Alix followed, curious to discover the significance of the new arrival. In the middle of the rapid exchange of questions and answers she succeeded in attracting Lola Ribar’s attention.

‘What’s going on?’

‘It’s really good news,’ the young man told her. ‘We were told only half an hour ago that the mule train had been ambushed. That was a blow because what remained of the Party archives, apart from what we buried back in the mountains, plus the radio set belonging to the British agents, was on it. Now it seems that was wrong and they are safe after all.’

‘Who is the man?’ Alix asked.

‘That is Vladimir Nazor.’

‘The poet?’

‘Yes. He’s left his home and come to join us. Tito is overjoyed. He has a great admiration for Nazor.’

There was an atmosphere of celebration that night and the last reserves of slivovitz were drunk. Alix tried to join in but her thoughts were with Olga and Vladimir.

Tito’s spies had told him that after the German forces had swept through the villages and towns that had made up the free republic of Bihac they had moved on to Montenegro. Many of the Partisan commissars, who had fled to escape capture, had infiltrated back into the area and re-established control. If Tito and his troops could get that far they would find themselves among friends, but there was still a long way to go before they could feel safe.

Next day, they moved on. Olga was carried on a stretcher and Vladimir walked beside her, refusing all offers of a mount. Alix walked with them, leading Moonlight. Olga was feverish and as the day progressed she began to hallucinate, muttering wildly and incomprehensibly. They were forced to make frequent stops to bathe her face and moisten her cracked lips with water but as the day went on she grew steadily weaker. The muttering ceased and the colour left her face. From time to time Valdimir laid his fingers on her pulse and late in the afternoon he touched one of the stretcher bearers on the arm.

‘Put her down. It’s over.’

The stretcher was set on the ground and Vladimir put his ear to her chest and then close to her mouth. He looked up at Alix. ‘It’s no good, she’s gone. Better this way than go on suffering.’ He turned to the stretcher bearers. ‘We need to bury her.’

They were in the middle of the forest and had fallen well behind the rest of the column.

‘No spades, no shovels,’ one of the bearers said.

‘We have knives, and our hands,’ Vladimir replied.

All four stretcher bearers were strong men, specially chosen for the job. One of them said. ‘I was a miner before the war. We’ll manage.’

They set to work in a patch of ground between the roots of an oak, scraping away the fallen leaves then gouging the soil with their knives. Alix, half blinded by unshed tears, helped to clear away the soil as it was dug out. The sun was low by the time the miner said, ‘We’re down to the rock. This is as deep as we can go.’

They wrapped Olga’s body in her blanket and laid her in the shallow grave, then piled the loose earth on top. When they had covered her as well as they could, Vladimir stood in silence beside the grave and the rest waited respectfully a few feet away. Alix heard him murmur a prayer, then he turned away.

‘Come, comrades. We must find the others before it gets dark.’