“I thank God that you didn’t have to experience the war” – Letters from Sarajevo and Zaostrog 1992 – 1996 (Part 1)

A tank drives through Sarajevo and people run away – this was the first image I saw on television when the siege of the city began on April 5, 1992. I was 16 years old at the time and didn’t understand what it meant at first.

Until then, Sarajevo had been my other home, where I enjoyed spending my vacation twice a year. Weeks before my departure, I was so excited that I could hardly sleep. I would meet my friends and relatives, who were also eagerly awaiting me. I knew that because we were in regular contact by phone or letter. And I was therefore privy to all the rumors and events. I had a “life within a life”, because the letters from Yugoslavia made everyday school life more enjoyable and increased my anticipation even more until my departure.

When I saw the first pictures of dead people in the streets of Sarajevo, I realized that my beloved trips home were no longer possible. And I suddenly had to fear that relatives and friends might be among the victims and that I would never see them again. A fear that I had never felt before in my well-protected life.

In the beginning, I still received letters from my best friend and sometimes I could even make a phone call. How a ringtone could sweeten your life! But at some point it all came to an end. I had the feeling that a life had been taken away from me. An emptiness spread through me and I went mad inside. I often picked up the phone and tried to reach relatives and friends, but apart from an endless busy signal, nothing came back. Letters to Yugoslavia could no longer be sent by post.

The rapid deterioration of my grades at school showed that I wasn’t doing well. I had no energy left for anything and wondered whether life made any sense at all. At least there couldn’t be any point in my beloved friends and relatives having to fight for their lives and being slaughtered like cattle. I felt worse and worse the more I stared at the TV and saw the countless dead on the streets of Bosnia.

My parents tried everything to send help to Bosnia. They collected donations, used them to buy food, baby food, medicines and hygiene products and sent them to the war zone in organized trucks. They didn’t want to send money for fear that it might fall into the wrong hands. My grammar school also took part in the collections and a lot was always collected. Two out of three transports arrived, one was held up and confiscated by war criminals. At least the truck drivers got away unharmed. My mother picked up my two cousins, aged 10 and 11 at the time, and my grandfather from Bosnia so that they could stay with us in Germany during the war. My aunt and uncle were stuck in Bosnia.

Their arrival with us brought me relief as they brought back a piece of my lost life and it was nice to know that at least they were safe.

Mummy and Daddy had everything under control and organized life with three other family members with flying colours, both emotionally and materially. It was only afterwards that I realized how much strength it had taken them to put up with love. The seven of us shared a 75 m² apartment, which worked out wonderfully.

Then came the first letter from my best friend in Sarajevo, sent from Croatia. It was August 1992.

“You didn’t receive a letter from me for a very long time. I had to leave my house because I could no longer bear what was happening in Hrasnica (on the outskirts of Sarajevo). Shell impacts from morning to night, permanent stays in the cellars, without electricity and without water. Sitting in the cellar, I had a lot of time to think and I thought about many things, even about whether you still remember me and Hrasnica. I think you still remember us, don’t you? I have some sad news to tell you in a moment. I have lost a very good friend and it was also your friend, ALE. I can’t tell you how sad I am about it.”

The first letter after such a long time, which on the one hand brought me joy because it was a sign of life from a loved one, and on the other it made me feel ashamed because I lived in freedom, and I felt bad because my friends and relatives had to fight to survive. I cried bitterly and felt worse and worse because of my powerlessness in the face of this unjust war.

“Now I’m in Zaostrog (in Croatia)…I had a lot of problems until I arrived in Croatia. At first they wouldn’t let us through, we had to take a 60 km detour, spend a night in the open and only arrived the next day. We drove over the Igman (Sarajevo mountain), had to walk part of the way, Safija, Medina and I (she with her two sisters), and mommy and daddy followed by car. I was so scared because it was dark and only the Serbian side had light. And you wait for them to throw a grenade. But we reached the main road happy and unharmed. As we were driving in the car, we were being shot at with all kinds of bullets and grenades. We could have died, but we were driving at high speed. In Hrasnica I endured fears, so I first have to get used to peace here. The world in Europe is doing nothing to end the war and stop the killing of the population. If only you had had the chance to see the people who fled over the mountains to hear about how they were burned to death and their families and friends were slaughtered and killed. Your life would no longer have any meaning. Children are crying and old people are carrying their belongings in cloths, their whole lives. I thank God that you don’t have to experience the war.”

I was totally overwhelmed by the letter and had to learn to process its contents. It was like a bad dream that didn’t want to end. And there it was again, that powerless feeling of not being able to do anything except wait and hope!

I wasn’t at war and didn’t have to fight for my life, but I had to come to terms with the fact that my friends and relatives were dying and there was nothing I could do about it!

The only thing we could try was to send parcels. To my friend in Croatia and to her and our family in Sarajevo.

“My new address is on the envelope and I hope that you will answer me quickly, because I am expecting your letter. Give my regards to your family and many greetings to you from your girlfriend, who has not forgotten you! Write to me!”

(end of part 1)