The Serbs Chose War, Ruth Mitchel 24. GOOD-BY, HELMUTH! TOWARDS DAWN it became impossible to sleep even by snatches. For now an anti-aircraft battery, hastily brought back from the south, was placed in the shelter of a little grove of trees not fifty yards behind the cottage. Soon the German planes would be attracted to our village, seeking out the battery. It was time therefore to move. But which way? People began running in with the strangest rumors. "The British are sending a whole fleet of river boats up the Danube to defend Belgrade." Too absurd for contradiction, of course, since Germany held the whole Bulgarian and Rumanian sections of the river leading to the Black Sea. "German tanks have already crossed the frontier and are nearing Belgrade." "German parachute troops have landed all along the railway line to the south." Igon seized upon this last, which seemed to me not altogether unlikely, to urge upon me that if I tried to proceed I should certainly be caught between the two lines of converging Germans. He and Helmuth got me into a corner of the garden and acted a kind of Greek tragedy of desperate strophe and antistrophe, each confirming the other's eager reasoning and prophecies of doom, the purpose being to persuade me to return to Belgrade. But Helmuth was noticeably weakening. I decided to proceed at once but did not like to take the responsibility of leading my friends into danger. I went in to put the alternatives before them, and there I saw a charming scene. The older lady, looking very fresh and bright, was sitting on the bed, both little dogs beside her. Her daughter was arranging her mother's white curls as elaborately as she had every morning for years, the while they placidly discussed the weather! They listened to all my arguments pro and con, and without a moment's hesitation decided to come with me. I ran out and around the village to see if I could get some sort of farm cart. At last I found a grizzled old fellow who was planning to remove his family southward. He agreed to make room for us and to come to fetch us. We wasted two hours waiting for him. I suppose too many women relatives made it impossible for him to keep his promise. For at last when I went to find him he had gone. We decided to walk round the city toward the southwest in order to reach the railway at some miles down the line where it might still be working. Little, slow, obsolete Yugoslav fighting planes had now arrived to engage the great bombers. There were a large number of Montenegrins in the Flying Corps. I knew that sixty of them, knowing how inferior were their planes and guns, had formed a suicide squadron and had sworn to try to ram the enemy planes. I couldn't stand watching it. As for my two German heroes, they stood by themselves so that I shouldn't see how delighted they were, though I noticed that Helmuth stood like a stone. It wasn't until much later that I heard what had happened at Zemun, the Belgrade airfield. The pro-German Prince Paul government had left only seven fighter planes there, under the command of a Croat. Major Romel Adum. At seven-thirtv on April 6, when the German bombers arrived, the major ordered the seven Serb fighters to remain grounded, saying it was hopeless. Captain Todor Gogich and the six other Serb officers thereupon informed him that he was relieved of his command, and immediately took the air. They were all killed except Gogich himself, who was badly wounded, but not before they had brought down a number of German planes. As Belgrade had been declared "open," they were careful to fight only in the environs. Major Adum immediately left for Zagreb and is now in the Croat Air Force fighting Russia. Yanko and the three other men decided to return at once to Belgrade. I knew he had a job to do: this time I asked no questions. With daylight the bombing had reached a new intensity. But, believe it or not, Yanko now began frantically to hunt for his flag! Just to be on the safe side, we had placed it as a perch in the chicken house. When he looked even there, the hens were peacefully roosting on it and he didn't find it. A warm grasp of the hand and the dear fellow left. Later, when I was in Belgrade prison, I heard by grapevine telegraph that he was at his old job, quite unsuspected by the Germans. I somehow have the conviction that Yanko and I shall meet again, and will there be a celebration! Bidding Michael and Sultana an affectionate farewell, the five of us now took a small supply of food and set out, the two Germans again carrying my bag, while the two ladies had only a little dog each. I arranged with them to engage Igon in conversation while I went ahead with Helmuth. I could see that the frightful treatment of Belgrade, an open, undefended city, had lowered his morale. Whatever his reasons for working for the Germans, his belief in the superiority of their honor and ideals had received a fearful jolt. He was a Jew, and I knew what must inevitably be his fate. I sincerely liked him. He had been misled by his deep love for Igon. But, after all, the latter belonged to a people who had treated his race more bestially than any race has been treated in recorded history. I begged him to come with me, to throw in his lot with the fellow victims of his race: if he had to die, let it be in a great cause, the cause of justice and freedom. I talked to him almost all day. To take him with me would be a serious risk for me, of course, but he spoke perfect Serbian, and my Chetnik pass, I was pretty sure, would enable me to get him through to where he too could join the fighters. We walked about twenty kilometers (about twelve miles) over the roughest going, often having to throw ourselves down as the planes crossed low, machine-gunning anything that moved. Mrs. C.'s bedroom slippers began to lose their soles, and she grew terribly tired. But she uttered not a word of complaint, and I could hardly persuade her to let me carry her little dog. At last we reached the Avala road. Just before it we saw a whole line of bomb holes exactly following the line of the road and about a hundred yards from it: German bombsights had fortunately gone wrong. Just where we reached the road we were delighted to see a row of four busses standing. They were waiting to evacuate children from the city and were stacked high with mattresses. We were told that if there was room after the children had been loaded we could ride too. We waited. Night was falling, and again the sullen glow from the burning city threw its ghastly reflection round us. The children began arriving in all sorts of conveyances: some in cars, their roofs torn off or hanging loose, their mudguards crushed as they had been dragged out of the wreckage; some in farm carts, in prams, on old men's backs. Some were well dressed; many were in rags. None were with relatives; they had just been picked up by passers-by. They were absolutely silent, some dazed and dizzy, but most of them self-contained and strangely businesslike as they were jammed into the busses. The bigger ones took the tinies on their laps as a matter of course and cradled the little strange, sleepy heads in their arms. There must have been two hundred children and no more noise than in a doll shop at night! Now the busses were full, and as no more children seemed to be coming, we three women were allowed to squeeze ourselves into a corner. Meanwhile Igon had taken Helmuth for a walk down the road. When they returned I saw by Helmuth's face that all my work had been undone. I made a last try. "Come with me, Helmuth, come-we will fight together for liberty and justice." He took my hand and held it a moment in both of his, but did not raise his eyes to mine. "I must die," he said, "in any case. I will go back. I truly loved you." Igon said not one word as they turned and disappeared into the flickering night. Helmuth was almost immediately caught by the Serbs and executed. Certainly he was not denounced by me, as Igon later is said to have declared. Igon himself was guilty of his friend's death. Previous Chapter | Content | Next Chapter The Serbs Chose War, Ruth Mitchel