Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia.
Diary of Captain Jakovlevj Nikolayevich Stanislav. 1985-1999.
I still remember the year, the year was 1985. I had been called in to serve the duty of protecting the motherland, my dear Yugoslavia. Now I’m here, standing together with my fellow soldiers on a line, staring down the road leading along ‘’Радничке улице’’, the workers street. I was only eighteen and had recently been certificated from the Worker’s School in Belgrade, i remember who the music started, the trumpets rang and the drums started to beat.Then we all yelled together ’’Long Live the Socialist Republic of Yugoslavia, Long live Tito! Uraa! Uraa!’’. Then we quickly changed direction, facing down along the street, the drums started again and we started to march down the street, people started, they even filmed at us. I was proud to serve my country and the morale just boosted up when i ’’Goosestepped’’ along with my comrades down the street.
(OOC: The link to the Parade :
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TketXN2EmZw&feature=related)Together with my politka, my jackboots and the medals shining in the sun, we marched, feeling a great pride in ourselves as the people cheered at us. Ever since our liberator ’’Joseph Tito’’ peacefuly died 1980, the country has been met several economical difficulties, but the ’’People’s News’’ are writing about how we are going to survive this, and i believe in it.
’’My name is Jakovlevj Nikolayevich Stanislav, i was born in Belgrade. My mother was one of a teacher in the ’’People’s National School’’, while my father was a Officer in the Jugoslovenska Narodna Armija (Yugoslavian People’s Army), i was quite born in a privilaged family, my father, when he was young. Had been fighting the German invaders along with his fellow partisans. Now, 1985. My father was rised into the ranks of ’’General’’ and sat in the ’’Soyuz’’ (Council) of JNA. Once i was drafter into the army, i was trained in special combat and leadership, together with the training and the influence my father had i quickly advanced to the rank of ’’Kapetan’’ (Captain). ’’
The soldiers stopped, staring down then quickly spinned around, the orchestra went silent, then it came. As we stod silently and waited, we bursted out a yell ’’Uraa!’’’Uraa!’’Uraa!’’, then we went silent and the orchestra started to play once again.. The national hymn, the sound of thousands of soldiers singing, made my heart be filled with pride ’’Hej Slaveni! Our beloved language still surviveth; While the faithful heart within us for our nation striveth; Yes, the slovak spirit liveth! It will live forever!..Uraaa! Uraaa! Uraaaaaaaaaa!’’
(OOC:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w3uepvK6GyA&feature=related, Hej Slaveni)
1991, Slovenian Uprising.
When i first got the news i was in shock, the Slovenians created their own parliament and declared their independence, our President; Slobodan Milošević declared war on the new republic of Slovenia, and I was ordered to led the 5th Infantry battalion. Together with the support of JNAT-55 Tanks, we headed up along with the convoy, to Ljubljana, the Slovenian ‘’Capital’’.
Once I received the order, I protested. The morale of the entire Army was low , the supplies had been stretched out too thin’ thanks to the economic break down, for the first time, I protested against my motherland and instead I begged for my father to make them change their mind, but it didn’t change anything, neither did he care. The next day I headed up, sitting in a truck with ten others. I started to sing a song to make their morale rise a little, which it did.
Once I woke up the next day, I’ve noticed how weren’t moving, I jumped out from the truck and noticed how the JNAT-55 Tanks ahead of us had been receiving problems and we had to wait on these endless roads for hours. Then..Something happened, it was the sixth July, the guns went silent, and we had orders to quickly withdraw from the new Slovenian Republic, I was shocked, but also I felt some sarcastic delighting, and I said for myself ‘’Perhaps now those idiots, ruling the motherland will think twice or more’’. After a month of fighting and boring guard duty, with 44 death, 146 wounded and over 4 944 captured on our side, while the Slovenians only lost 18 men and 182 wounded. Many said this was the end, but I knew…This had just started.
1992. Siege of Sarajevo.
‘’Hurry up, Kapetan. We need to reach the Stejosky square. ‘’, I responded in a nod to him. Preparing my Zavstava M70 Rifle and told the men to follow me.
Sarajevo…The new battlefield of the War, the Serbians had begun the siege of the city, bombarding it with artillery barrages, the smell of the death and limbs was disgusting. I was a part of the main offensive, to take Sarajevo from the Bosnian Army and their Croatian allies. Already thousands had been killed.
As we made our way through the building complex, we saw the bodies of the Bosnian children and their family killed by the artillery that had only left ruins of their home, the cries and screams went into my mind as I secured the building with my friends, then…I saw something, I saw a girl, as I was heading towards her, she was shot down, bleeding on the ground, staring at me, my friend touched my shoulder and I woke up, just to notice that I had hallucinated about her, once we cleared the building. We headed out, there we came under direct fire from Bosnian snipers, but we managed to come to cover. The bodies of civilians was spread out all over the street and the stench was horrifying, my friend next to me, went ‘’Insane’’ throwing his rifle away, rubbing his face, crying as he ran out in the open, he stepped on a small mine the next second he flew up in the air, as he landed. You could hear his screams for help and pain, his leg was gone and was bleeding. We tried to tell him to stop, but he kept screaming in pain and fear as blood poured out from his leg and out on the street. I closed our eyes, nodding to the soldier next to me. I begged that those snipers out there would shot him, and then the screams stopped after a loud bang. The Snipers finished the job. I let a tear out, and my soldiers told me to keep moving, but I couldn’t. As they grabbed onto my arm and tried to pull me away, I started to scream in fear, that I wanted back home. Then I came into my sane, telling the soldier next to me to wave a white flag, then I approached the body of my dead friend, the Bosnians didn’t shot, I crouched down next to him, and made a cross sign, proceeding by ripping his dog tag off.
(OOC:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UNoSYbMD7xw)Once I came back to the head quarter we had set up in a abandoned apartment room, I made myself a promise to him that I would notify his death to his family myself. I told myself, what have I done? What…Have I done? The scenes of his death crumbled in my mind, almost dragging me insane, but I managed to pull myself back into sanity, thinking’; Once this war stops, I’ll promise to myself to never kill a man in my entire life.
1995-Srebrenica Massacre.
The Croatians and Bosnians had pushed the Serbian army out of Croatia, now it’s only Bosnia left.
I’ve been ordered to lead the Serbian Counter-attack against the Bosnian held town of Srebrenica.
Together with the support of Mercenaries and the Paramilitary ‘’Arkan’s Tigers’’ and the 245th Infantry company led by General Ratko Mladić. Arkan comes from the West, Ratko from the East and we from the South. The Bosnians had been raped and murdered Serbian civilians, this was our revenge..
I was tired, angry and mad, this wasn’t a war…This was a extermination. The extermination of the Muslims. It was empty of Bosnian soldiers, only civilians were left, we punished the civilians…Beating them, raping them, forcing them…To do unspeakable things, we executed the fathers…Mothers, in front of their children, we rounded up over 10,000’s of people, children, men and women.. Forcing them out to the country side, beating them, raping them and stealing from them once again, then we separated the children from their parents, forcing them all to dig their own graves, once they were done; we tied them with their hands behind their back. Then we did it, the General ordered me and my men to do it, I had no choice! What would I otherwise do?! I slinged the Rifle over my shoulder, pulling my Makarov pistol out, telling the children to turn their back as their parents headed to their own digged graves. I forced them down onto their knees, my soldiers watched.
I started with the first one, pressing the pistol pipe on the back of his head, the man cried, begging me to spare him. I couldn’t do it, I tucked the pistol back in my holster. A Political officer who was following my group told me why I didn’t shot, I told ‘’I’m not a Criminal, just a Soldier’’. He got mad, and pulled his pistol out, heading over to the man I spared and pulled the trigger, the man fell to the ground and into the pit emotionless, I closed my eyes, letting out a tear as I heard the Political officer ordering my men to bring the children, I walked away. Trying to escape their cries, then I heard the gunshots and some screams, then they all stopped. The next day, over four thousands of Muslims had been systematically executed, by my men. I felt that it was my entire fault, I may haven’t killed anyone by myself, but my men did. When I could’ve told them not to, the next day, we brought a group of Bosnian soldiers and civilians we captured out to the forest, I watched my soldiers executing them, those teen soldiers were executed by my own ‘’Firing Squad’’.
Then the war continued, the United Nations had joined, lucky for us the Dutch UN corps was easy to bribe through money and alcohol. Thanks to that we could travel through the Dutch UN checkpoints.
Final Battle of Sarajevo.
A city one shining in the order of the Socialist Republic, is now laying in ruins. The longest siege in history, over 10,000 civilians’ dead and many more injured. Now it was time to counter-attack. The Bosnian and Croatians were stronger, but we had tanks, artillery and soldiers. The battle went on, and on. Over a month passed, and it still went on. The fighting for a city which had nothing left than ruins, then the gunfire ended. The war was over, we were all ordered to cease our firing and return to our Headquarter to travel back to Serbia. The only thing I’ve achieved in this war was blood. Nothing else than blood on my hands. These once clean hands of softness are now filled by the blood of the innocent; I’ll never forget what I’ve done. Perhaps I will get chance for redemption for those horrible things I’ve done.
Kosovo War-1999
Seven years, for over seven years I’ve been fighting…Over one hundred thousands have died, many more wounded. The motherland is destroyed. NATO bombing over Belgrade have killed my father and wounded my mother, now I have nothing left. Once this war is over, they’ll find everything about me. I need to escape Serbia, I’ve heard President Slobodan is about to surrender, that fool. The United Nations will be all over me if I don’t escape, I have to escape! I was involve in those massacre of those innocent people. I’ve heard Arkan is going to leave the country as well, I might just hook up with him and some of my closest soldiers. We need to escape to a silent country, perhaps Libya, or Scandinavia. Perhaps those Scandinavian volunteers will help me. Now I have to stop writing, the bombardments are coming closer from the NATO airplanes and the Albanian Guerrilla troops is said to soon be coming. I need to tell my men to prepare. Over these seven years of fighting. I’m ready to do my duty to protect Serbia one last time from these Albanian Terrorists of the UCK; if I am to die...I’ll take them with me.
''This is Captain Jakovlevj Stanislav, once a proud nineteen year old officer of the Yugoslavian People’s Army, now a Thirty-three year old veteran, who’s wrongly accused of War Crimes. ''
FACT AND AFTER-TEXT: Over 100,000 people died in the Yugoslav Wars, also known as the Yugoslavian Civil War. The bloodiest battle ever since World War Two, Concentration camps, ethnic cleanings and mass executions was a major factor of the war, never forget those who server in the army, fought, died and survived this horrible war.
Subject: Yugoslavian Civil War Diary. Captain Jakovlevj Stanislav. 1985-1999. 
Sat Aug 27, 2011 3:58 am