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# SI: Albanian Extremists Destroying Serb Churches and Monasteries
# VREME: We are not refugees, no way/ We are expelled  (Kosovo Serbs)
# THE CHURCH IN SLOVINJE DEMOLISHED BY EXPLOSIVE

 
Albanian extremists destroying Serb churches in Kosovo and Metohija
July 16, 1999

Djakovica, 15th July (Tanjug) - KFOR forces on Thursday evacuated 15 women exhausted from starvation and illness from the church of the Ascension of the Holy Mother of God in Djakovica, which is the sanctuary of some 30 elderly Serb women, to the Patriarch's Residence in Pec, Tanjug learned at the Raska-Prizren eparchy of the Serbian Orthodox Church. The women will be transported from Pec to the hospital in Berane, Montenegro. The eparchy sources denied the church had been torched.
     Albanian extremists last night destroyed a dedicated mosaic in the new church of the Holy Mother of God in Djakovica in the value of Deutsch marks 80 000.
      In the village of Biskot, municipality of Djakovica, church dignitaries dismantled a screen with icons and other relics from the local church, and took them to the Visoki Decani monastery, the eparchy said.
 
In the center of the village Musitiste, municipality of Suva Reka, which was home to about 1,500 Serbs until some 20 days ago, vandals blew up the church of the Ascension of the Holy Mother of God.
     The bell-tower of the Draganac monastery in the municipality of Gnjilane has been torched.

 
Vreme reporter with Serb refugees from Kosovo

Three Bags of Candy for Children

by Dusan Radulovic
 

Vreme, Belgrade, FR Yugoslavia, June 19 1999

"We are not refugees, no way! We were expelled

    Dressed in black as a sign of mourning, Momirka Mladenovic (63) from Donja Srbica near Prizren sits in one of about ten tractor trailers parked next to the fences in the village of Lapovo. One of her sons died seven weeks ago. He fought with the Yugoslav Army Special Forces.
      "They only brought me four planks. A coffin. Now, we're here, as you can see... His wife and children, the other son with his wife and children and me. We've left everything behind: a full house, land, what's the use..."
      Other family members sit on the grass next to the fence and are quiet. Two young women and two teenage girls who do not seem any different from Belgrade teenagers. They look at the grandmother and listen. Their eyes are welling over with tears.
      "They gave us an hour to pack and leave. Had our neighbor, a Serb, not given us a tractor, we would have not had a way to run away, to save the children," continues Momirka Mladenovic. Her daughter in law does not have strength to speak. She almost sighs through tears: "I can't, I can only cry".
      A hot and humid day. Clouds are massing on the southern horizon. They've been chasing us since the morning, and will catch up with us in the evening in time to flood Belgrade.
      Probably, before that the rain will have poured over the convoys of tractors, cars and all sorts of vehicles which have been traveling from Kosovo for days along the curvy Ibar highway.
      Narrow paved road through the village of Lapovo is now a highway. It serves as a detour around the part of the Belgrade-Nis highway, impassable due to the NATO bombardment damage. We find people from Prizren and the surrounding villages and the town of Suva Reka in the convoy of tractors in Lapovo. The locals have received them warmly. That is not surprising, since almost a third of them hail from Kosovo.
      "Magdalena, Magdalena!" shouts a man sitting on a tractor.
      "She is in the yard, here, playing with my daughter," responds Vesna Savic, pointing at two girls playing in the grass in front of the house. Her husband, Milan, came 25 years ago from Suva Reka. She was born in Lapovo.

People Started to Flee

      "Do you know these people?" I ask her.
      "No, I don't," she responds while offering them coffee.
      "I see that you're treating them as if they were your own family."
      "What else can I do. May God save us from their fate."
      She offers them coffee. Some of them accept and ask if they can wash themselves somewhere. Vesna shows them a tap. On tractors one can see mostly bags with clothing, a few house appliances, nothing large, a radio, a kitchen mixer... Obviously, they didn't have time to pack the rest. Slavica Veljkovic from Prizren says that the local authorities let it be known last Friday that the local Serbs had three hours to pack and prepare to leave.
      "They came and said: 'As soon as the Army and Police pull out, KLA will come from the mountains and you're all dead! You better get lost!' Then the people panicked and fled.
      "We reached Suva Reka, but there the Police wanted to send us back. They had been attacked by KLA and were fighting to get out. What were we supposed to do once the Police left? How were we supposed get through [to Pristina]? Horrible!"
      Zvezdan Lazic (19) from Suva Reka, employed by the local Red Cross, says that "the people began to talk that we had to flee".
      "First a rumor spread about that, and than the local authorities, the Police and everyone informed us to prepare to leave. We asked the mayor and he responded: 'What can I tell you, no one guarantees anything'. We asked the Police commander and he said: 'Starting tomorrow I am not a policeman anymore'. What else could we do but to pack what we had time for, leave the rest and go into exile."
      His uncle had been killed two days before the first bombs fell on Kosovo.
      "They entered our shop and shot him," says Zvezdan.
      "We didn't touch those Albanians who were in Suva Reka. Only those whose sons were with the terrorists were hiding in the woods. The rest lived normally in the town. Even when the bombardment started and some left over the border, those who stayed behind were not mistreated by anyone. They came regularly to the Red Cross office to get assistance, every week. Although they were supposed to receive aid once a month, I was giving it out weekly."

Everyone is Spitting on us

      Bitterness is the main emotion displayed by everyone we talked to. They tell us that all 35 Serb families from the village of Recani near Suva Reka have left.
      "Milosevic says 'we have achieved peace'. What peace? He pulled out the Police and Army and left us there at KLA's mercy," continues Slavica Veljkovic from Prizren. "Germans and Italians arrived, Albanians greeted them with an applause. 'We have won' they shouted. They waved Albanian flags, and none of that has been shown on our Television. We left in a convoy of tractors. Albanians were swearing at us: 'Go to Serbia, that's where you belong. Don't ever come back. Go to your Milosevic, see what he has done for you.' They threw stones at us... And NATO, instead of saying, look people, let them go through, their children are crying, their women are crying too - they turned their guns at us to make sure we do not shoot at Albanians."
      Her sixteen-year-old daughter Jelena, who until then had sat quietly next to her mother, simply cannot hold back the words which suddenly burst out.
      "English journalists were there. They had arrived with their soldiers. They were also cursing us and making comments. They had no idea that I understand English and knew what they were saying about us. I told one of them that I understood what he had been saying and he got confused. Then he asked, 'who had thrown stones at you' and then 'our forces are here, they'll protect you'. Who can protect us when even NATO had turned their guns at us, onstead of at those who were attacking us!? "When we were passing through the village of Dulje, all of us, even girls, had a gun or a grenade in their lap. That was in case KLA attacked, so that we could defend ourselves or commit suicide," she says through her clenched teeth. "I had a bullet in the barrel... I'd rather kill myself than be raped by one of them."
      "They attacked us incessantly," adds Zvezdan Lazic. "In Suva Reka, when we crossed the Caf Dulj pass, in Lipljan... In front of Pristina they threw stones at us although NATO was there. They attacked a girl and wanted to pull her away. Her father almost could not save her."
      Zdravko Mladenovic from the village of Donja Srbica near Prizren does not hide his bitterness.
      "When we passed through Stimlje, these troops that had arrived, the so-called peacemakers, instead of chasing away gathered Shqiptars who were stoning us - three of us were hurt - turned their guns at us. They were laughing at us and their journalists were taking photos."

Where are We?

      The Serb authorities in Kosovo totally fell apart as soon as the "military-technical agreement" in Kumanovo was signed. The people who we met in Lapovo confirmed that and we have heard that repeated many times from the refugees on the road to Kragujevac and further towards Kraljevo and Raska.
      "We went to the city hall to ask what to do," a man from the village of Recani near Suva Reka tells us. "It was empty, locked up. The same in the Police station and Health Center... that was on Friday at three o'clock. We packed what we could and headed for Serbia."
      President of the temporary Kosovo Executive Council, Zoran Andelkovic tried to keep some of the refugees in Pristina. He offered them temporary accommodation - in empty apartments of local Albanians! Overwhelming majority rejected his offer.
      A majority of our colocutors distinguishes between the events a year ago when the Police fought against KLA and the events since the beginning of the bombardment.
      "We had to defend ourselves when they attacked," says a man from the convoy. "But I haven't burned anybody's house. And what they are doing to us now..."
      "I lost my brother in this war. What did he die for? Why didn't they tell us to evacuate on time, instead of fleeing like this," says Zarko Mladenovic. "Milosevic has turned into Gorbachov!
      "He gave Kosovo to NATO. This is a third exodus of Serbs: Krajina, Bosnia, and now Kosovo! That is what we will be remembered for."
      "The television shows Milosevic opening reconstruction of a bridge. 'Reconstruction begins,' he says. Where are we on television? It seems we do not exist," interjects someone.
      "They shouted on rallies 'Kosovo is Serbia'. Let them have their Kosovo! There is nothing left down there. The police has left, army has left, who represents Serbia there!?", a middle aged man poses a rhetorical question. "That Percevic was in Prizren until NATO arrived. He said: 'We have preserved the integrity and sovereignty of our country'. What fucking integrity!? I asked him, who defends sovereignty and preserves integrity? He didn't know what to say. He was almost killed by the Serbs there. A man put a gun against his head, but the others calmed him down."
      Weariness, anger, they all speak at once.
      "The local authorities were disbanded, no one was there. All along the way from Prizren to Stimlje, we didn't see a single Serb!"
      "There is no border control. Anyone and everyone is entering Kosovo. Yesterday they were driving through Prizren in cars with Albanian number plates from Kukes."

No one to show the way

      On the road to Kragujevac we encounter new convoys of cars with number plates from Kosovo towns, tractors loaded with possessions. Some of them are parked, while the people are sleeping in the open. We encounter abandoned tractor trailers, broken tractors, items thrown on the side of the road... After the convoys entered Serbia they could buy fuel only from the smugglers on the side of the road.
      Diesel goes for DM2 per liter, while gasoline costs DM3 per liter. In a village on the way to Kragujevac, at a local auto mechanic's shop, we meet Zivorad Djordjevic from Djakovica. An axle on his tractor is broken. In his almost empty trailer, apart from some clothing and blankets strewn on the floor, there are more people.
      "I was late leaving. I left at almost 5 a.m. I was at work all the time, so the others apparently forgot about me. Had I not been late, my neighbor would have been left behind," Zivorad says and points at a man with dark glasses. "He is totally blind, but has a wife and three children."
      When they reached Raska his wife went to the local store to buy bread and food for children.
      "The shop assistant asked if I was from Kosovo, a refugee. When I said I was, he refused to charge me for anything and gave me three bags of candy for the children."
      In the village of Dragobraca we are looking for the family which has taken in 56 refugees from Kosovo. The head of the family refuses to give us his name. He is from Kosovo, has a house in Pec. He has built a house in Dragobraca, but it is still not completed.
      "Now, it's worth gold," he says.
      Same stories, enormous bitterness and anger with the local authorities. No one told them which route to take towards Serbia, nor were they greeted by anyone once they left Kosovo.
      "I've worked for ten years as a policeman in Pec," says a thirty-year-old man sitting with us at a table in the yard. "When they signed [the military-technical agreement in Kumanovo], they told me in the station to burn my uniform, hide the weapon and stay. Supposedly no one would know that I was a policeman. Nonsense!"
      Nevertheless, the extended families which gathered in the village, had sent "a reconnaissance patrol" to Pec to check the developments there. They are among a few of our colocutors who expressed the desire to return to their homes. Most of refugees respond to the question about return with a counter-question:
      "What return!? Where!? As soon as we got half a mile from our homes, they were already on fire!", says Slavica Veljkovic. "They are burning everything, only smoke, everything is on fire... There is nothing left... Nothing."
      "Common man, it's finished," says Zarko Mladenovic. "NATO protects KLA. They will allow them to kill those [non-Albanians] still left in Kosovo until all of them are expelled."
      "I would return now," says a man from Istok. "If only they could guarantee my safety, I would immediately go back. Everything I have is in Kosovo. I have nothing and no one in Serbia! But who can offer me guarantees? Milosevic? He can only betray me as in the past."

We Would Go Back

      Most of the adult males served with the reserve units of the Police or the Army during the war. They are the most bitter. Srdjan Jovanovic from the village of Mucitiste near Suva Reka has been traveling for three days. "I was on the border [with Albania] to the very end," he says in a weary voice. "Forget that, there's nothing to talk about."
      "When we entered Serbia, they disarmed us. They took away our guns and rifles," says Momirka Mladenovic. "What are they afraid of? Who can I kill in my age? I can use weapons, but I don't intend to kill anyone".
      "When we arrived to Serbia, gentlemen ordered that our weapons be confiscated," says a middle aged man leaning against a tractor. "I didn't hand my weapons over to KLA, nor to NATO, nor will I give it to this lot. I was issued a weapon by the Djakovica Corps and I will return my weapon in Djakovica and to the Djakovica Corps of the Yugoslav Army!"
      "All of us are prepared to go back and fight, to the last, all males, aged fifteen and up," says a man standing next to him while the others approve. "We would leave women and children here and go fight for our Kosovo..."
      "And not only against KLA, but also against NATO if necessary!"
      "Because, we have nothing here. Everything we had was left behind in Kosovo."
      "Sir, do you know what's sad?", says Miroslav Veljkovic (47), a man in the group which has gathered around us. "As we were leaving Prizren, the local Turks and [Slavic] Muslims joined the stoning. And during the month of Ramadan, our police allowed that all their shops and tea-houses be open all night long and they didn't touch anyone, and this is how they pay us back. My parents stayed there. I tell you now: if they kill them I'll kill all the Albanians I can find in Serbia! Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth! No more forgiveness."
      On the road between Kragujevac and Kraljevo there are several Police check- points. They register refugees and their number plates. There are no official data about the number of the refugees from Kosovo. The figures of 30,000 to 50,000 have been mentioned.
      "In the last two days, at least 10,000 refugees have passed through," says one of the policemen on the check-point in Raska. "I had the same duty in 1995 when Serbs came from Knin to Serbia. Now, it's hundred times worse."
      Two volunteers of the Red Cross in Kraljevo agree. They put up a tent that day, the only one we have seen on our journey.
      "We have been approached by 297 families since this morning, when we arrived. Multiply that by at least four and you get an idea how many have passed until 3 p.m.," says one of them. "Most of them seek shelter, but also food or medical assistance. We cannot offer shelter - there are a few tents, but that's not enough. We can't even give them fuel. We expect the first delivery of oil [since the beginning of the crisis] today, but that's hardly enough for these convoys."
      A doctor on call in the ambulance set up in a nearby school tells us that the refugees usually seek treatment for the injuries suffered on the road, but that there also people with chronic and heart diseases and asthmatics.
      "All of them are under tremendous stress," she says, adding that she has found her experience of work with the Krajina refugees in 1995 very helpful.
      Leaving Kraljevo towards Cacak, on a large, fenced in parking lot for trucks, we encounter an improvised collection center for refugees. The Police are directing them from check points towards the parking lot. Those with relatives in the area can leave once the relatives come to pick them up. Others wait for "officials" to come and tell them where to go. In vehicles and on tractors we find mostly people from Istok, Djakovica...
      "That's it, my friend. We left, there was only smoke behind," says one of the recent arrivals. "I have relatives in Serbia but I do not want to be a burden to anyone. I do not expect anything from the authorities. Just consider what they did with Kosovo... that's enough."
      "We have been expelled from our homes and the television goes on about peace! Not even a word about what is happening to us. Well, the powerful in Belgrade should know that if we can't find shelter elsewhere, we're on our way to the capital".
      "We are not refugees, no way! We were expelled," says an agitated man standing next to me.
      "They shouldn't lie to the people," says and elderly man, who obviously commands respect. He is surrounded by a group of young men and women. "I could see my house on fire while they were saying 'we don't burn Serb houses'. I listened down there to London, Washington and Prague. We also listened to what our authorities were saying. We are not fools. Those who think they can hide the truth are stupid, not us!"
      In the improvised collection center we encounter a Roma family from Istok. Three brothers with wives and all together ten children. The youngest one is still in the cradle.
      I ask two girls playing next to the tractor-trailer loaded with possessions whether they have forgotten something at home. What would they liked to have taken with them?
      "Everything," says one of them.

 
The photos of the demolished Orthodox church in Slovinje. (15 July)
http://www.decani.yunet.com/slovinje.html

SOON PHOTOS OF OTHER DEMOLISHED CHURCHES IN KOSOVO

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