First of all, when Bob Gavurnik inspected our vehicle, which just got out of service, it was out of hydraulic fluid. In his attempts to correct that deficiency he forgot to load up the donations and had to return to the company area to get them. The roads were questionable for travel so I had to get extra signatures on our patrol pass and risk assessment sheet. In the mist of all that LTC Kelly wanted to meet with me. Things like that just kept tripping us up. It took an hour and 45 minutes from show time to time of departure. As we finally started toward the gate, I gave Hugh the thumbs up and said, “Can you believe that you are finally getting to go.” His reply was, “we haven’t got out the gate yet.”
Five minutes later we arrived at the gate with all our required gear, vehicles, IDs, and every piece of paperwork on the post. After handing over our patrol pass the gate guard informs us that non-armored vehicles were no longer allowed off post. He confirmed that with a phone call. We had to turn around and go back in the gate. We returned to the post operation center and got the policy straightened out. Just in case we went out the other gate, which added an additional 15 minutes to the trip. Our first stop was a bank to convert our money. Bosnia is not switching to the Euro. They have what is called a Convertible Mark (KM), which is roughly equivalent to the German Mark. The bank in town is normally open on Saturdays, except for this Saturday. Hugh, I am sure this is all just a coincidence.
Despite our unit jinx, I mean dumb luck; we arrived at the camp at 1130. After unloading everyone’s donated goods, most of the visitors were invited inside. Boris Becker (company photographer) and I took the camp leader grocery shopping. We used donated monies to help them purchase some basic cooking needs. I can assure you that they were quite overwhelmed with your generosity and were reluctant to spend the money. I had to assure them that the many people who contributed to the cause would be disappointed if the money did not get used. Well of course the shop owner was also pleased because he had to have items delivered to fill the order.
Upon returning to the house we all sat down for coffee and Mark Baush shared some cookies, which his mom sent him. Most visits, we are so busy with activities that we don’t have much time to talk. Through the translator, I asked the camp leader to tell me how she came to arrive at this place. Her story started with her husband being killed by an artillery shell in their front yard. Most of the residences are from the Srebrenica area. If you want to know the details of her story, read the book Scrbrenica, Record of a War Crime. The story ended with the knowledge that they have no idea when or if they will ever leave this camp. Her assessment of the future was two choices. One is move back to the Srebrenica, which is difficult if not a frightening prospect. The other is to move to the US.
Before our heads exploded from the caffeine rush from the powerful Bosnian coffee, the ladies started parading in their handmade goods. They had lace products, sweaters, and rugs, but the most popular item sold was the wool socks. As products and money changed hands the ladies seemed ecstatic to have earned some spending money. As a note to you wives and girl friends back home, check out the photos of the items we purchased at very reasonable prices. If you want to get some fine handmade products for you and your home, you need to tell your husband or boyfriend to get something for you. Sadly several soldiers have not even signed up to go on a visit. On top of them missing out on a very moving experience, you are missing out on some great buys, and the refugees are missing out on a chance to earn some money. Nuff said.
Before departing we couldn’t escape without a snowball fight, which Mark Baush was leading. Unfortunately, in the end, he also took the brunt of the snowballs. In fact I would call his experience a snow bath.