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Student Publications
Vedran Persic
Title: Hana Petric - Life Story
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Nobody has the will to survive like
a human being. When found in a
danger people
use all their energy and mind to
save life. Scientists are constantly
amazed at how an
individual can survive in mountains,
deserts, and forests, but especially
in a war. It looks
like that fear recognizes no fear.
A 24-years old Slovenian reporter
Hana Petric talked to the soldier at
Kosevo
Hospital who jumped with his
comrades from 30 meters high cliff
into the woods running
from the enemy. For most of them it
was the last thing they have done.
Yet another attempt
by Bosnian army to regain the
control over mountain Trebevic ended
in blood. Entrenched
troops rejected the assault and
stormed the attackers. That day one
man survived
manhunt and he is now resting in a
hospital in Bosnia�s capitol
Sarajevo. Bosnians dominate
the city and the country. This young
soldier sees his broken legs as
God�s blessing
compared to being captured by Serbs.
Rebellion Serbs took over control of
the mountain
in 1992 when the war broke out and
didn�t let it go since. It is the
second year of Sarajevo
siege. Serb�s guns kill everybody
moving if noticed behind burnt cars
and sand begs that
provide a protection for the
citizens. Government�s units can�t
break the siege as rebels
control hills and mountains around
the city. Citizens are held hostage
to Serbian politics
targeted to set up ethically pure
territories in Balkans.
Hana Petric writes for the Mladina
magazine. As a student at the
Political Science
Faculty in Ljubljana she witnesses
the war for independence. Her
country Slovenia managed
to abandon Yugoslavia with minimal
casualties.
II
Outside, at the hillsides of the
city, sounds of war dominated.
Because of a smoke
it come into view like a morning
mist although it was a noon. Petric
decides to visit
troops first thing in the morning at
the slopes of Trebevic. The 1st
Mountain Brigade held
position few kilometers from the
downtown in a steep side of the
mountain. In days without
combat activities soldiers look like
a group of men at the holiday. Chess
and play-
cards are the most popular soldier�s
games. A soldier�s meal always is a
topic. Today, a
meat can of questionable quality is
shared by dozen. Local herbs found
in surrounding of
trench make the meal more eatable.
Skinny cook gives his best to
prepare the meal,
which boils in a big metal bucket.
Meat and rice with herbs smells good
as Petric prepares
to lunch with boys deep in a trench,
safe from bombs. A meal brings back
all good
memories when these guys enjoyed
their picnics in near by. Roasted
lamb represents the
favorite memory and the biggest wish
in this flashback. Their thoughts
move from desire
to anger. The soldiers talk about
smugglers inevitable for conflict
areas. The food smuggling
is blooming in the city while these
hungry guys risk their lives in
muddy trenches,
armed with thirty bullets in the
magazine. Petric feels sorry for
them because of situation
they were in but also likes them as
they strongly defend their families
and homes. Fight
to protect their families represents
their ideology, their faith and
their strength.
Small photo camera witnesses
brothers in arms smiling for the
readers and talking
about the war in its Bosnian
humorous way. Petric laughed with
them absent minded
about the menace hidden just some
fifty feet�s away. She wanted to see
the enemy on that
peaceful day. Peaking from the top
of the trench seamed like a good
idea. A gunshot
breached the silence. Petric felt
down quietly. The soldiers saw her
right eye smashed in
blood with the exit wound at the
back of the head. Before loosing
consciousness, Petric
caught one of them saying:� She must
be dead.�
Outside of the main Sarajevo
hospital a car stops abruptly. The
sound of breaks
draws attention of the medical staff
who smoked cigarettes outdoors. A
man in the camouflage
uniform comes out of the car
carrying a young woman with bloody
bandage over
her head. The soldier screams while
walking toward the entrance: �Sniper
shot her in the
head, but she�s still alive�. From
opposite direction, joining him with
the trolleys, a nurse
asks about her identity. �She is
Slovenian journalist. Her name is
Hana.� Soldier places
lifeless body on the trolleys
bouncing on the broken road.
They disappeared in the dark
hospital hallway making the car
engine the only
sound outside.
III
Hana Petric was a victim of a
different war from the one she
personally knew.
The conflict in Bosnia and
Herzegovina was more vicious then in
Slovenia. Big cities are
bombarded night and day. Eastern
part of the country is raped,
killed, burnt. Running
through forests, thousands of
refugees are looking for safety in
the capitol Sarajevo. The
local schools became refugee
shelters. The sound of happy school
kids was replaced with
crying of hungry babies. Hallways
are packed. Classrooms became
apartments for up to
ten families where books were used
for heating and preparing meals.
Running for a story
she was seen as an enemy for the
other side. It was not as same as
fights between football
fans were nobody cares about a
reporter. Here, she witnessed the
crimes. But she wasn�t
alone. Hundreds of international
correspondents covered the war in
Bosnia and Herzegovina.
Fearless reporting and traveling
where another civilian wouldn�t
created a bond of
brothers among war correspondents.
If someone leaves the country others
waves him: �
See you in another war�.
A job took Petric to Kosevo hospital
more often then she would like.
Inside, disoriented
people flooded the corridors.
Hospital staff shouts at each other
looking for a
way to help everyone in the need. It
mixes with scaring screams of
wounded men and a
silent pray of their family members
leaned on bloody walls. Being
coolheaded in such
circumstances terrified Hana. Other
people�s pain was just a good story
for her. �Doctor,
how many dead people have you
counted today?� she asked. �Well it
is about the daily
average � twelve�, doctor said and
left for the surgery room. As she
walked in the direction
of way out she saw a one-leg boy
standing at the door facing inside
holding on two
sticks. His crippled shadow covering
almost the whole hallway marked the
exit. Due to
strong back light she couldn�t see
his face until they almost touched
at the door. �How
are you doing?�, Petric started a
conversation. He must have been 15
years old she
guessed. She felt sorry for him
thinking that he won�t have a chance
to play sports again
as he lost most of his left leg. �I
feel sorry for families of these
dead soldiers,� he whispered,
�my mom still got me.� Petric gently
squeezed his shoulder and left the
scene obviously disturbed.
She wanted to understand how a boy,
with disabled life, can be so
positive and calm.
IV
Now, she was back to the same
corridor traveling on the trolley to
the surgery
room. After a week Petric became
conscious. She sees the ceiling with
her left eye. The
sun entering the room creates a
square at the white background. The
blurred picture follows
horrible pain in the head. Petric
tries to scream, to release the
pain, but hears nothing.
Overtaken by the pain and panic, she
questions: �What happened?�
Thousands of
questions bombarded her mind, but
she was helpless to ask for the
answer. Her body refused
to obey commands: arms stayed under
the sheet, head deep in a pillow,
mouth
speechless. That evening, the doctor
provides her with explanations of
her condition. She
lost her right eye. Brain has been
damaged so much that she lost an
ability to speak. She
needs to be transferred from
Sarajevo as soon as possible in
order to receive proper medical
care to be able to improve her
condition, which could be worsening.
The doctor ends:
�But you are still alive�. She was
surprised with the comment as she
realized that her life
has been ruined. �What kind of life
I have without ability to speak?�
Petric questioned in
despair, and increased her agony
concluding, �I�m half blind�.
A woman who hated to be hemmed in,
who had gone where she wanted when
she
wanted, Petric was medicated and
placed under constant observation,
her nights filled
with the screams and rants of other
patients. Lonely, Petric remembered
all news reports
she did from Sarajevo. Recalling her
memory she pictures the situation in
the city in
spring 1992 when she arrived looking
to prove herself as fearless war
reporter. The
quickest way to win respect among
colleagues is to be where is the
news. The Yugoslavia
was falling apart and international
media attention was on Bosnia and
Herzegovina as the
only enclave of multicultural
society in this part of Balkans.
The United Nations is trying to
bring humanitarian convoys with food
and medicines
to the city but Serbs are squeezing
them at the checkpoints. Delivered
help was not
enough to satisfy all citizens.
Surprisingly for Petric, citizens of
Sarajevo proudly bear
the war. Moreover in old cloths they
walked tall. With limited water
supplies and cosmetics
gone the women demonstrated beauty
totally unknown to the war. Petric
loved them
because of this. They represented
all she wanted to be � free from
Western culture important
things, simply enjoying her life.
One of the best reports Petric sent
was on the beauty
contest where the Miss of the City
under the Siege was promoted. She
witnessed natural
beauty free of modern cosmetic and
stylish dresses. Fashion show beats
war. Clothes
were hand-made deep in basements of
war-torn buildings. Petric felt
sorry for them because
of their modest appearance but
admired them for the courage to
confront the reality.
Today, stuck to a bed, she was
horrified at her own looks.
V
But, in every pain there is moment
when a person discovers being not
lonely in its
misery. War correspondents who used
to share notes with Hana Petric
helped her to raise
money for her operations abroad.
With the money she managed to find
doctors to reconstruct
her face. Petric spent whole year in
the United States recovering. It
took her eight
months to learn how to speak again.
Rehabilitation was a painful
experience for her. She
missed home, friends and most of all
� Sarajevo. That city caused the
greatest pain that
she suffered and all joy she
experienced. The ultimate pleasure
in life of every journalist
is producing story, which triggers
public debate. There is no greater
satisfaction when
you story leads to positive action.
Petric found herself useless in the
US and determined
to return to the city that she
couldn�t completely understand but
pulled her as the magnet
and couldn�t let her go.
But before that she needed to return
to the homeland. Back in the Mladina
she felt
different approach but her
colleagues. They were too kind to
her. One thing she couldn�t
bear is to seen based on the outside
appearance rather then personality
that she possesses.
She knew that back in Sarajevo
people don�t judge others by their
face as they all were in
the same box � standing in the line
to be executed. Making it through
the day is what
matters. She needed not to be
noticed as different. She wanted to
be on the same frequency
with the group. Sarajevo makes life
worth living.
It has been more then a year since
Petric left Sarajevo thinking that
her life is lost.
As she looks through the small plane
window she sees familiar ground. A
place she embraces
as safe haven. That sunny autumn,
the UN plane landed at the airport
welcomed
with ceremonial machinegun music
typical for this area. Even pilots
pay no attention to
few bullets bouncing of the damaged
airfield. Old friend returns to
witness another attempt
of the city to break the chains that
kept him imprisoned for more then
three years.
Heart beating Petric tried to spot
new scars at local buildings as she
walks between the
soldiers guarding the airport hoping
to recognize some of the press
people buzzing
around.
Half an hour later she stood in
front of Holiday Inn Hotel where the
UN Peace
Troops organized the Press Center.
Emotionally at the edge, waiting to
see familiar faces,
Petric walked in. Feelings erupt in
the hall when war correspondents met
again. In matter
of hours she became the news story.
It helped her to free all emotions
deeply hidden inside
for years, healing the soul at the
same time and making the return a
sensible choice.
The Slobodna Bosna reporter Edin
Saric came to the hotel in order to
do an interview
with Slovenian journalist who was
badly injured in Sarajevo and
returned again as
journalist. The interview is
conducted in the main hall. Weak,
but hot coffee steaming
from the coups provides aroma to the
interview. An introduction is
followed with exchange
of cigarettes that is typical for
print reporters, but this is not
ordinary interview.
They are about same age and similar
affiliations. As he learns more
about her the more
she�s glorified in his view. Saric
tries to be funny as he wants her to
like him and she
knows the game. �Bosnians are
charming people in its nature�, she
comments to herself,
and proposes another meeting later
in the week to discuss current
political and military
situation in the country. Occupied
by the topic, the bomb explosion in
the neighborhood
passed unnoticed. Their laughter
blows outside sounds.
The war nears its end. Serbian
politics to conquer Balkan countries
and to form
alliance of Serbs territories
failed. Pressured by the
international community, financially
exhausted warlords signed a peace
agreement late that year in the US
air base, some
10.000 miles away from Bosnia and
Herzegovina. Hana and Edin jointly
worked on citi-
zen�s reactions to the signing of
the new peace agreement. It wasn�t
the first time that
Saric was at her apartment. After
filing reports, two journalists
watched the CNN broad
casts NATO�s statement on deployment
of troops on Bosnian terrain.
Totally non-
romantic moment became turning point
for Petric as she kissed him for the
first time.
War reporting ends in Bosnia that
evening opening a path for country�s
recovery.
Petric never assumed to find
happiness in war-torn place.
Personal and professional
satisfaction doesn�t come with the
place but with people. Love, respect
and understanding
clears the way for ordinary problems
making the life complete. �We chose
no
country but people who want to be
old with. Who take us for what we
are and not by our
outside. Who posses the will to live
life with me�. Petric stated at the
wedding, in 4th
month of pregnancy, outside her new
home in a peaceful city of Sarajevo.
End
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