Page 3 of A Call to Home (Women of the Resistance #3)
Gornji Vakuf
February 1943
Alix shivered and blew on her numbed fingers. Tito had set up his temporary headquarters in a partially ruined house and the bitter wind blew unhindered through the broken windows. There had been a hard battle to drive the Italian garrison out of the little town and few buildings had survived undamaged.
‘So.’ Tito lowered himself into his folding chair. ‘What despatches do we have to deal with today?’
Alix opened the satchel in which she carried her notebook and copies of all the messages that had been received from the scattered Partisan brigades.
‘The Krajina Brigade have successfully blocked a German attack from the area of Sanski Most. The German forces were routed and the brigade captured weapons including forty light and ten heavy machine guns and an anti-tank weapon.’
‘Excellent!’ Tito exclaimed.
‘The Seventh Partisan Division is holding the line on the Bihac-Petrovac axis but is under heavy pressure.’
‘The longer they can hold out the better,’ Tito said. ‘We need time to establish a base from which to attack the garrisons along the Neretva. What news of the Central Hospital?’
The discussion about what to do with the wounded had been resolved eventually. The deciding factor had been the knowledge that the Germans had orders to kill all those they captured. The numerous hidden hospitals had been evacuated and their occupants – patients, doctors and nurses – had been assembled into what was now known as the Central Hospital. The Seventh Banija Division was given the task of protecting it. A long line of trucks carrying those unable to stand was followed by men on horseback and finally the walking wounded. As they left Bihac they had been followed by a horde of civilians, desperate for any protection from the advancing Germans. The column had found a temporary resting place in the hills around the town of Glamoc, but it was known that the Germans were attempting to encircle the area.
Alix rifled through the documents. ‘The commander of the Seventh Banija reports that they are beginning to evacuate Glamoc. Conditions are very bad. The snow is deep and the trucks get bogged down and the walking wounded have to struggle to keep up with the column. He adds that the civilians who have attached themselves to the column are in an even worse condition. Food is very short and some of them do not even have shoes.’
Tito sighed. ‘There is nothing we can do for them. Once we have occupied Prozor, we shall have a place where our wounded can get some respite. Is there any news from there?’
As he spoke, they heard the guards outside shout a challenge and then came a breathless answer. One of the soldiers appeared in the open doorway.
‘A courier from Prozor is here.’
Tito jumped up. ‘Send him in.’
A bedraggled figure entered the room, his coat torn and muddy and his face streaked with soot and blood.
‘Good news, I hope?’ Tito said.
The messenger shook his head miserably. ‘I’m sorry, comrade. We were unable to break through the defences. Here is the commander’s report.’
Tito took the proffered paper and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘Don’t be ashamed. I am certain you all did your utmost.’ He raised his voice. ‘Someone take this man to where he can be fed and rested. And send me a new courier.’
He sat heavily in his chair and unfolded the paper. Alix watched him, disturbed by the brooding sadness on his face. The last weeks had taken a heavy toll on all of them as they had fought their way eastwards, but she knew that he felt more keenly than anyone the loss of so many good men.
‘The town is heavily fortified,’ Tito read aloud, ‘surrounded by concrete bunkers protected by wire entanglements.’ He looked up. ‘Does that remind you of Bihac?’
Alix shuddered, seeing in her imagination the bunkers rising out of the muddy fields and hearing again the screams of the wounded. ‘We need the bombasi there.’
‘There are bombasi with the Third Division. You helped to train many of them.’
After reading on for a moment, Tito’s face brightened. ‘There is to be another attempt tonight. All is not lost. It is vital that we take that town before our wounded reach here. We will send the Escort Battalion to reinforce them.’ He shouted to his guards again. ‘Send Nikola Dordevic to me.’
Alix’s stomach contracted. The Escort Battalion was normally held in reserve until the crucial moment in any battle, so she should have expected this; but the report from Prozor suggested this would be a more desperate and dangerous fight than any they had experienced. Nikola had proved himself a good commander, in spite of his disability, but his luck might run out at any time – and where Nikola went, Dragomir went too.
Nikola arrived moments later and Tito explained the situation. ‘It is vital that we take this town from the Italians. Sava Kovacevic is in command. Report to him. He will put you in the picture.’
Nikola saluted. ‘Very good, comrade.’ He hesitated a moment, looking past Tito to where Alix sat. ‘If I might, sir?’
Tito glanced round. He was aware of the somewhat fraught relationship between them. ‘Two minutes. Then you must rally your men and prepare to leave.’
Alix looked at Nikola. With a slight movement of his head, he indicated the open doorway, and she got up and followed him outside. They faced each other, hunched against the wind, and he began quietly, ‘If anything should happen to me…’
She met his eyes and saw something different there. This was not his usual self-pitying ploy to engage her sympathy. He really meant this. Her first instinct was to reply, ‘Nothing will happen. You’ve been in dozens of battles and come out safely.’
‘This could be different,’ he said. ‘I just want you to know, if anything did happen, I have made Dragomir promise to look after you.’
She almost laughed. Dragomir had taken care of her ever since they were forced out of Uzice a year ago. Then she realised what it had cost Nikola to exact that promise. He had been jealous of Drago since they had met in the ruins of Belgrade and he refused to accept that there could be anything between them beyond the relationship of mistress and servant. This was a tacit acceptance that it was much more than that.
She reached out and took his hand. ‘Thank you. I know he would do that. But you mustn’t believe it will be necessary. You are a good soldier. You will come back victorious.’
On an impulse she leaned up and kissed his cheek, something she had previously resisted when he begged for it. He put his arms round her and for a moment clasped her to him. Then he stepped back and murmured, ‘Thank you.’
‘Can I speak to Drago, before you leave?’ she asked.
There was a brief hesitation before he nodded and without further words he turned away and went to join his troops.
Dragomir appeared in the doorway a few moments later.
‘You know what he asked me to promise?’ His tone combined surprise with a degree of scepticism.
‘Yes. And I know it wasn’t necessary. But it shows he has changed.’
He shrugged slightly. ‘He thinks he is going to die. If he lives it will be different.’
‘Perhaps not,’ she said. ‘But why does he think that?’
‘He says he had a premonition.’
‘That’s nonsense.’
‘I know. But it will make him reckless.’
She hesitated. ‘Drago, I don’t know how to ask this. Will you try to take care of him?’
‘As I always do,’ he replied gravely.
‘But not at the cost of your own life.’ Her voice was husky with unshed tears. ‘You know which of you is more precious to me.’
There was pain in his eyes, too; the pain of a love that could never be consummated. ‘I am happy to think so.’
She kissed him on both cheeks. ‘God preserve you, brother dear.’
He nodded and turned away.
Alix rejoined Tito. A new man, slightly cleaner and less haggard in his appearance than the earlier messenger, came into the room and saluted. Tito was scribbling a note. He handed it to the courier.
‘Ride hard. Prozor must fall tonight!’