THE CRIMINALS ARE PAYING
a swift uprising of crime
Toward Serbia, the areas without war in the capital city, with excessive bloodshed and fire, are burning. Slobodan Miloševiç kills them with the people and with cannons!
In Vjeshkë, in the center of the city scorched by the hell of war, a column of people, mixed amid the haze of fire and the successive thunderings, was moving toward a square filled with fallen bodies. The scene was heavy, smeared by smoke and the smell of gunpowder. At the edge of the road, some women held frightened children in their arms, while elderly men stood leaning against walls cracked by shells.
Above a destroyed building fluttered a cloth blackened by flames. No one spoke loudly. Everyone waited, confused and angry, for the end of a night that seemed endless. From afar came more gunshots, and a strong explosion forced everyone to sit on the ground. A young man shouted his mother's name, but his voice was lost in the smoke.
Those passing through the main alley saw bodies, overturned vehicles, broken windows, and looted shops. Some tried to help the wounded, while others hurriedly gathered the few belongings that had survived. Everywhere fear and distrust could be felt. An old man with a tired face said that this was no longer war, but extermination.
People asked about missing relatives, safe roads, and shelters where they could spend the night. Children cried. Women sat in silence. Men stared at the sky with rage. Somewhere, near a burned car, a bloodied man fell to his knees. Another lifted him by the shoulders and dragged him toward a dark entrance.
The photograph shows a moment from this scene: two men bent over a third, on a dark street, amid shadows and stones. This is the everyday face of the crime left behind by war.
President Clinton in a meeting with a Kosovar refugee in Germany
(REFUTERS)
President Clinton in a meeting with a Kosovar refugee in Germany (REFUTERS)