Field of Blackbirds, Clayton Jeppsen & Lindsey Jeppsen [historical books to read TXT] 📗

long awaited promotion and assuming full control of the Montenegro army was General Marshal Gavrillo; the General that did not see eye to eye with the new Serbia, the General that hindered the stampede of Nationalism, the last standing “Tito” General. Radenko’s blood thickened and his eyes seared holes through the top of the tent as things began to make sense. General Mihailo Pec had ordered the secret assassination of his father.

************

Lazar lay in his cot with his flashlight propped over his shoulder. It was the first opportunity he had to read the last letter he received from Mr. Nowak. He carried it around with him for two days. Lazar tried to drown out the occasional rattle of distance gunfire and began to read:

Lazar, Chlopaki Mojego! (Polish - My boy)

I haven’t heard from you for quite some time. Your last letter was very short. Are you okay Lazar? Are you healthy? I hope you are taking care of yourself. Your mother and your sister are both well. Your mother seems happy again. She’s beautiful when she’s happy. I wish you could see her now. Djana is well into her first year at Novi Sad University. She wants to be an animal doctor. She has been studying very hard and has the marks to show it. You would be proud of her. Things are very busy at the Time Machine. Orders are getting backed up. I can’t make watches fast enough. I could really use your help again. And sometimes I just miss your company. Our game still rests where we left off. It’s your move.
Lazar, I wanted to ask you if you have heard from Milla Markovich. I know you two are not together anymore but last spring she told me that she would be back for one more year of school. She asked if she could tend my horses again. I haven’t heard from her. I would like to find out if everything is okay with her. Do you know anything?
Lazar, times are worse than they have ever been. I have heard some horrible things. This time of war will pass, but the decisions you are making now, the things you do now, will be memories that you will carry to your grave. Don’t be today who you don’t want to be in 20 years. I want you to define the things that are important to you in life. Seek those things out and show passion for them. I know who you are Lazar. I have watched you from when you were a small boy. I have seen you turn into a man and I want to see that same man return to his family. I know I am not your father Lazar, he was a great man, but I do feel like you are my son. You will always be my son.

Idz z Bogiem! (Polish – Go with God) - Mr. Nowak


Lazar clicked off his flashlight and then let the tears flow down the side of his face into his pillow. So much of what Mr. Nowak said was pouring into Lazar’s soul. But Lazar feared it was too late. He had already done so many things, things he would never tell Mr. Nowak. He already had bad memories that would seep through the cracks of his coffin, just to be with him. Could he turn around? Could Mr. Nowak still be proud of him? Or would he see right through him? And Milla, what had he done? How could he explain what happened to her?
Lazar knew this; it was Milla, above all, that he wanted in life. It was she, who defined him. He would seek her out and make her his passion. Lazar silently thanked Mr. Nowak for his love, for his timing and for his ability to reacquaint a man with his life and the things that are truly important. And then Lazar felt another urge. He thanked God for not abandoning him in his hour of need. He was with Lazar that morning by the riverside, in Visegrad and He was with him again tonight. Lazar felt good about this new closeness. He found himself praying over his loved ones at home. He prayed for Milla, “God help her” and he prayed for Radenko and General Gavrillo.
Between everything that was on his mind and the echoes at the war front, Lazar couldn’t fall asleep. He noticed that Radenko, as quiet as he tried to be, kept shuffling in his cot. He couldn’t sleep either. Lazar could only imagine the things that might be running through his head.
“Radenko,” Lazar muttered quietly.
“I’m sorry, I’ll try to be quieter.” answered Radenko, making one more movement, hoping it would be his last.
“It’s okay,” assured Lazar, “I can’t sleep either. I’m glad you haven’t fallen asleep yet, I wanted to talk a while.”
“Sure,” said Radenko, pulling his sleeping bag tighter around his neck.
“Is there a special girl in Montenegro, you know, waiting for you?”
Radenko didn’t answer right away, not sure if he wanted to get into it all. Loosely, he said, “My heart was broken when I was eight years old, not sure whether I want to go through it again.” and that was all Radenko said.
Lazar began talking again, even before he knew what he would say. “Some time ago, I met a girl in Belgrade, a Muslim girl. She was from Visegrad but she was attending Belgrade University, studying theatre. I first saw her in the play, “Romeo and Juliet”. She was Juliet. I had never seen a girl so beautiful. She was mine for a while. And Radenko, I traded her away for everything that I have now . . . . . . nothing!”
Radenko was silent. He wasn’t sure what to say to Lazar.
“I would like to tell you it was our ethnic differences that divided, but that would be a lie. It was me. It was my ignorance to what was happening around us. It was my failure to secure the love that we were feeling. I ripped it all to pieces. I betrayed her, in this uniform, when I ransacked her home. Her name is Milla, Milla Markovich. I don’t know if she is alive, but I have to find out.”
Radenko could almost touch the remorse surrounding Lazar, but all he could say was, “That’s awful Lazar. It really is. I’m sorry.”
Neither said another word, but Lazar felt as though half of what had been weighing him down had disappeared. It seemed, for the first time in a long time, he could breathe.
Lazar rattled his flashlight in hopes to brighten the beam. He began a letter to Mr. Nowak. He assured he was doing well. He expressed excitement for Dejana’s accomplishments and he asked Mr. Nowak to send love to his mother. He even asked Mr. Nowak if he could send a watch for Radenko. But he mentioned nothing about Milla.

************

The morning broke with talk and commotion among the soldiers. It was official; the retreat would begin in one week. Lazar saw Nikola a few yards away in a circle of officers. He overheard them talking. Nikola was displeased with the decision to retreat. According to him, they were just on the verge of breaking into the city.
Lazar paid close attention to what Nikola was saying;
“The only road out of here leads right through Zvornik and then through Srebrenica, every other road is blocked off no more than three kilometers out. We came through Zvornik so it shouldn’t be too bad yet, but there is already a resistance formed in Srebrenica. The Muslims have claimed that city as a refugee asylum. We know they’re only protecting it with small arms fire. The majority of the fighters are the same ones that ran from us in Visegrad. We should be able to cut right through them, just like we did three months ago.”
Srebrenica? She’s in Srebrenica? The possibility made Lazar’s heart race.
Radenko was also following what Nikola was saying.
Nikola pulled a box of cigarettes from his coat pocket, he offered them to the officers in the circle and then he lit one for himself.
Lazar was anxiously hanging onto the news, waiting for Nikola to say more. Nikola took, what seemed to be a very long drag of his cigarette. He turned toward the soldiers in the camp and then blew his smoke.
Still looking in Lazar’s direction, Nikola began talking again, “I’ll have to assign a couple of my guys as scouts to go find out what we got in Zvornik and Srebrenica.” Nikola turned back to the officers, “We’ll give’em a radio and a jeep, and three days head start. If there’s going to be resistance, they can let us know.”
One of the other officers laughed and asked, “Who’s going to jump at the chance to go on a suicide mission?”
The remark was followed with more laughter from other officers.
Nikola looked back toward the soldiers with a terrible grin on his face, “I’m not expecting any volunteers. None of these cowards would volunteer to die. Assignments will have to be made.”
Lazar couldn’t stand still any longer. He had to move before the assignments were made. He grabbed Radenko’s shoulder and looked him in the eye for assurance.
Radenko, knowing what was in it for him, nodded his head, “Let’s do it Lazar.”
Lazar walked straight up to Nikola, “Can I have a minute of your time, Sir?”


Chapter 17 – Strength & Honor at 35,000 ft.


35,000 ft. above the Adriatic Sea, 1992

Marcielli stared out the window of the Bowing 647 as they flew over his country.
“Bella Bambina, I love you.” Marcielli