NATO airstrikes in Kosovo
leave army, police cold
AP News Service
ZRZE, Yugoslavia (AP) _ Burning villages. Well-fed Serb
soldiers flashing victory signs. Inside Kosovo, there is no sign
that the Serbs are scared and running from NATO.
Instead, there is evidence that Kosovo Albanians remain
unwanted in the province. And that Serb police and Yugoslav
army units are hunkering down for a long conflict, more than three weeks into
a NATO air campaign meant to bomb Belgrade into accepting a political
solution for the rebellious province.
Escorted by Serb army personnel on a 36-hour trip that ended Friday,
reporters in Kosovo saw the carnage of what Yugoslav officials say was a
NATO strike against a convoy of ethnic Albanian refugees.
But they also saw parts of villages up in smoke, supporting refugee testimony
of a continuing Serb push to drive Albanians out of their homes. Also evident
were dug-in tanks, decoy cannon meant to draw NATO fire _ and high morale
among army and police units who are supposed to be the targets of the NATO
attack.
The limitations of what NATO calls a limited air campaign were evident in the
stretch of Kosovo toured.
Destroyed barracks and a warehouse attested to the devastating punch of
NATO airstrikes in Gnjilane, 25 miles southeast of Pristina.
But there, and elsewhere, police and army personnel moved freely in civilian
vehicles without fear of attack. Others relaxed in full view in roadside cafes or
in sandbagged but loosely guarded fortifications.
''We can wait out this war without any problems,'' said a policeman dressed in
a blue camouflage uniform, speaking in German at one of the few stops during
the journey. ''We are patient _ for months, or years, we have time.''
Such contacts with Serbs _ whether civilians or in uniform _ were rare.
Organized by the Yugoslav army, the trip, which entered and left Kosovo at
Bujanovac, 25 miles southeast of Pristina, the provincial capital, had another
purpose.
It was meant to back up official assertions that a NATO air attack targeted
Kosovo Albanian refugees, killing 75 and wounding dozens of others, and
requests for other glimpses within the province were turned down.
Reporters brought by bus to the vicinity of Zrze, 30 miles southwest of
Pristina, saw gruesome signs of several explosions _ charred bodies and body
parts, a head lying in a field and destroyed tractors and vans sitting near huge
craters.
Despite NATO assertions that an armed convoy was targeted, ethnic Albanian
civilians, speaking through official Serb translators, said only civilians were
struck from the air. Several were in tears as they recounted losing family
members in the attack.
All along the road, however, was evidence of a continued campaign against
ethnic Albanians in the province, gathered from the top level of a two-tiered
army bus and from hasty conversations with residents.
A stretch of road between Zrze and Prizren to the southeast was flanked on
one side by hundreds of destroyed houses, clustered in several villages. Many
of them were burned but otherwise undamaged, suggesting they were set
ablaze and not shelled.
Amid the destruction, untouched Serb homes displayed neat front lawns and
plots of bright red and yellow tulips.
Dark gray smoke was sighted from villages nearly a dozen times on the roads
from Bujanovac to Zrze and back, indicating new fires, despite the lack of any
fighting. Of scores of buildings seen damaged and vandalized, many were
stores with Albanian-language signs.
In Prizren, the city southeast of Zrze, several ethnic Albanians introduced by
officials as survivors of the convoy attack shrugged and refused to answer
when asked what the burning houses meant.
Near Zrze, at the site of one of the attacks, Genc Huis, an ethnic Albanian
refugee, nervously evaded the same question, saying only: ''Of course houses
burn. This is a war.''
Serbs _ whether soldiers, police or civilians _ appeared relaxed on all stops of
the journey.
At Bujanovac, dozens stared into the sky, apparently looking for NATO jets
after hearing them above. There was no sign of fear, just curiosity. Several
husky soldiers in green-brown camouflage uniforms grinned as the reporters'
bus sped by, flashing victory signs or the three-fingered salute of Serb
superiority.
Dozens of military vehicles meant to be hidden from aerial view were sighted.
Among them were trucks parked in garages, inside partially destroyed
Albanian houses or camouflaged in parks and fields.
Several armored vehicles were dug in among the stunted brush covering the
hills leading to the snowcapped peaks of Brezovica, Kosovo's highest
mountain, south of Prizren. And on a field northwest of Urosevac, about half a
dozen mock field cannons were set up, clearly meant to fool NATO aircraft.
At a stop in the hilltop village of Strpsa _ not far from burned out houses, one
of them still smoking, a Serb man chasing shots of raki, an anise-flavored
brandy, with beer at a hilltop cafe smiled mockingly when asked if he knew of
any attacks on Albanians.
''You are the barbarians, not us, with your bombing,'' he told a reporter.
''And we know nothing of burning houses.''
Copyright 1999 AP News Service. All rights reserved. This material may not be
published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistribute |
