Today’s story takes us to Vukovar, Croatia. 

Those of you who are not familiar with the Yugoslav Wars in the 1990s might not have heard about Vukovar, Croatia. This town, located on the border between Croatia and Serbia, has been a scene of one of the biggest and most cruel war crimes in the current European history.

Around eight thousand people (mostly civilians) died during the fights, afterward during the Ethnic cleansing the majority of the Croatian inhabitants were either murdered or driven out of town. 99% of the city was destroyed, making Vukovar the first place in Europe so heavily damaged since World War Two. You can see how the city looked like during the battle here.

“Vukovar is certainly the most sincere city in the world, because–almost at the same time– every word can be reflected in the heart.” –Siniša Glavašević

Once upon a time, there was a young couple named Majda and  Siniša who fell deeply in love and were married shortly after they met. Siniša was a journalist, and Majda was a nurse who cared for the wounded. They lived in a beautiful small town called Vukovar. 

In the spring of 1991, the siege of Vukovar took place and suddenly, the whole world knew the name of this little town.  First incidents started off small: homes and shops were attacked … The Serbian Army surrounded Vukovar and the real siege started in August.

The city was defended by less than two thousand soldiers, while the Yugoslav Army (de facto the Serb one) had between 27 and 80 thousand soldiers attacking. The siege took 87 days until Vukovar was captured by the Yugoslav Army and proclaimed the Serb city.

Despite the chaos and danger of war, Sinisa and Majda found comfort in each other’s company. They would steal moments together whenever they could, stealing kisses in the dark corners of the hospital or holding hands during brief breaks in the fighting.

One day, Sinisa was badly injured by a shrapnel of a grenade destroying a nearby school  and was rushed to the hospital where Majda worked. Majda was devastated to see the man she loved lying on a hospital bed, his body riddled with wounds.

She spent long hours by his side, tending to his injuries and offering words of encouragement. Sinisa, meanwhile, was overwhelmed by his feelings for Majda, knowing that she was the only person who made him feel safe in the midst of the war.

As Sinisa slowly recovered, he and Majda grew closer than ever before. They shared stories of their childhoods and dreams for the future, imagining a world where war was a thing of the past so they could raise their daughter in peace. 

However, their happiness was short-lived. 

The most barbarian part of the siege was when the hospital, clearly marked with the red cross, was attacked and captured. During the siege, the building was strafed over 800 times until it was eventually captured in November 1991.

Many of those who were wounded were killed directly in their hospital beds, others (255 non-Serbian workers and patients) were taken to the nearby village, Ovcara, where they were tortured and eventually killed and buried in the mass grave. Only one man managed to escape, his testimony helped to recognize this war crime.

During the Battle of Vukovar, Siniša Glavašević was regularly reporting from the besieged city. He is particularly remembered for a series of stories he had read to the listeners, that talked about basic human values.

On 18 November 1991, Glavašević sent in his last report, which ended with:

The picture of Vukovar at the 22nd hour of the 87th day [of the siege] will remain forever in the memory of the witnesses of this time. There are infinite spooky sights, and you can smell the burning. We walk over bodies, building material, glass, detritus and the gruesome silence. … We hope that the torments of Vukovar are over.

Glavašević disappeared shortly after this last report. He had been beaten and executed by Serbian paramilitary forces, along with hundreds of others between 18–20 November. In 1997, his body was exhumed from a mass grave in a nearby farm in Ovčara. He was 31 years old. 

When I was fifteen years old, my whole life changed in a blink of an eye…

I truly believe that I survived for one reason and one reason only: to tell our story, to give a voice to those who don’t have it anymore. I was there as a witness. As a survivor, I have an obligation. I have to talk about what happened in Bosnia (former Yugoslavia), back in 1992, no matter the cost.