Sarajevo,
May 23, 1993
Two lovers lie dead on
the banks of Sarajevo's Miljacka river, locked in a final
embrace. For four days they have sprawled
near Vrbana bridge in a wasteland of shell-blasted
rubble,
downed tree branches and dangling
power lines.
So dangerous is the area no one has dared recover their bodies.
No two people have more
exemplified
the tragedy of the civil war in Bosnia than 25-year-old sweethearts
Bosko Brkic and Admira Ismic. The only impediment
to their love was living in a country who's people are divided
solely on the basis of ethnic heritage.
For Bosko, a Serb,
and Admira, a Muslim,
the love they once expressed only for each other was forced
to become a secret.
In a country mad for war, Bosko and Admira were crazy for
each other.
The couple,
who had been dating for seven years, since high school, were
both chemistry students at the University of Sarajevo. Bosko
remained in the city to be with Admira. With his father dead,
no one would have blamed Bosko had he left Sarajevo when his
mother and brother fled before war broke out last year.
Instead, he stayed in the city.
"He had no one here, just Admira," explains the
dead girl's mother.
"Bosko stayed in
Sarajevo because of her. Admira wanted to repay him by traveling
with him to Serbia."
Finally, in the spring of 1993, Admira decided to flee with
Bosko to Serb territory.
They knew their escape
would be a dangerous one. To get to the Serb side they had
to cross the Vrbanja bridge, the front line between Bosnian
Serb and Muslim forces. While most who wished to flee the
city dared not risk the sniper
fire, some had successfully crossed over. On the day of their
planned escape, carrying two bags, Bosko and Admira approached
the government soldiers on the Bosnian side of "no mans
land". They asked the soldiers to let them try an escape,
and the police snipers assented.
The young lovers began running as fast as they could across
the bridge. They had almost reached the Serb side when snipers
opened fire. The machine gun fire came so rapidly that the
couple had no chance to seek cover. Bosko was killed instantly,
his body laying twisted on the ground. Mortally wounded, Admira crawled the few feet to her lover
and wrapped her arm around him before she died.
"They were shot at the same time, but he fell instantly
and she was still alive," recounts Dino, a soldier who
saw the couple trying to cross from government territory to
Serb positions.
"She crawled over and hugged him and they died
like that, in each other's arms."
Squinting through a hole in the sandbagged
wall of a bombed-out building, Dino points to where the couple
lie moldering amid the debris of Bosnia's
14-month civil war.
Bosko is face-down on the pavement, right arm bent behind
him. Admira lies next to her lover, left arm across his back.
Mystery, and perhaps treachery,
surrounds the couple's death. Government and Serb officials
admit they agreed to let them pass through the lines. Bosko
and Admira walked at least 500 meters along the north bank
of the Miljacka river, fully exposed to soldiers on both sides.
As they passed Bosnian lines and headed for the Serb-held
neighborhood of Grbavica, someone shot them.
An ironic twist to the story of two peoples love
that transcended a countries war, both the Serbs and
Muslims staked claims to the bodies. As the two
sides argued about who would have them, Bosko's and Admira's
bodies lay intertwined on the bridge.
The government side says Serb soldiers shot the couple, but
Serb forces insist Bosnian Moslem-led government troops were
responsible.
The young couple had been dead two days before Admira's parents
found out.
"I don't care who killed them, I just want their bodies
so I can bury them," says Zijah Ismic, the dead girl's
father. "I don't want them to rot in no-man's
land."
Government and Serb authorities have discussed the matter,
but so far are refusing a cease-fire around Vrbana bridge
to permit recovery of the couple.
"Everyone is washing their hands in this case,
Bosnians and Serbs alike," says the girl's father.
"The world must know about this", said Bosko's mother,
from the Serb side. "This can not last forever, the Muslims
and the Serbs. They can not fight forever."
She gave permission to
Admira's father to bury her son's body on the Muslim side.
She had but one stipulation.
"I don't want them separated", she said.
"We want them to lie together in the ground, just as
they died together," says the girl's father. "Love
took them to their deaths."
"That's proof this
is not a war between Serbs and Moslems. It's a war between
crazy people, between monsters.
That's why their bodies are still out there."
(815 words)
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