Jiří Bartoš

“It was Sunday 6 April 1941. My dad said: ‘Let’s do something in the garden.’ I agreed. I got out and heard this fantastic engine roar. Initially, I did not know what was happening because Yugoslavia did not have many airplanes. I looked around and saw airplanes coming in waves of fifteen from the East. They were raiding Belgrade. In a moment and without any ado or declaration of war, bombs started falling down. People were mostly asleep, it was about six a.m. The artillery then started shooting but their grenades exploded low, not gaining the required altitude. Desperate, I ran off hoping it was only an exercise. But the explosions were such that even at this distance, one could strongly feel the shock waves. I turned on the radio. Nobody knew anything, they played this light morning music, the bombs were falling and people were killing each other. That was how the war started.”

“I was curious and have therefore witnessed them taking some fifteen German soldiers, their hands held above their heads. They arrived to our customs house and stopped. One of them had a bandaged head and a Russian soldier asked him: ‘Što ty?’ He understood and replied: ‘Unteroffizier’ – a non-commissioned officer. The Russian soldier ran to where I was standing because the commander was there. The commander had a luger in his hand. The Germans were hiding all around the houses, even in the bathrooms. The soldier ran past me and asked the commander: ‘What to do with them?’ He replied: ‘Shoot them.’ I did not know what was coming. The Russian soldier returned. As they lead them further, more Russian soldiers were joining in. Those fifteen soldiers have been killed there. The Russians immediately took whatever they had in their pockets. But they left the non-commissioned officer with a bandaged head alive. He went on and I was watching what was happening. He went to the back of the house. There, he returned and saw he was the only one left. That soldier with the luger was coming from the side, talking to another officer. When they got to the level of this non-commissioned officer, he shot twice, the guy fell down and they walked on.”

“I sat down at the gate. There was a way out there and further on, there were only trenches. I piled up bricks, creating a peephole in order to see through. From there I was looking for someone to shoot. One day I had this prepared when they started systematically shooting from a mortar from the direction of Bosut river. When I saw where the shells were falling, it was clear to me that I was about to be hit, too. I did not know what to do. I went to hide inside a house. I could hear explosions outside, passing by. I went outside. From the church where our machine-gun was dug in – it was some thirty metres far – I heard: ‘Bartoš had died!’ There was a hit at precisely the place where I previously sat. I heard that and replied: ‘Bullshit, I am here!’ And I went on with piling up those bricks.”