How does it feel to be a civilian in a war zone?

There is no greater suffering imaginable than that of civilians in a war zone. We all know about the fate of refugees, but they are the lucky ones. They made it out of the war alive.

Many people however stay and hold out in the war zones and often nobody is there to protect them. They might have a family member who is a soldier and don’t want to leave him alone.

Many of them stay, because they are too old to flee or lack the financial resources to do so. Being a refugee costs a lot of money.

One day during my time in the war in Kosovo I decided to take some time off from the front line, dress civilian clothes and together with a comrade go to a near city to spend some time there. This was during the height of the war: NATO had started their bombing campaign and the Serbs had begun to expel half of the local population from their homes.

The city we went to was under Serb occupation, but most of its inhabitants were Albanians.

I have to admit that I’ve never been more scared in my life than during this short time as a civilian in this city. Without my gun I felt naked and helpless. I only took a hand grenade with me which I could more easily conceal.

We had to sneak into the city at night as all entry points were heavily guarded by enemy checkpoints. First thing we did in the city was to go to the part were the Albanian population was living. What I saw there reminded me of scenes in a ghetto:

Due to the enemy’s ethnic cleansing campaigns in the surrounding villages this part of the city was totally overcrowded. People were camping outside everywhere. A lot of old people were there, the younger ones had already fled the country or had joined the Kosovo Liberation Army. It seemed to me that only old people, women and kids were left.

We spent the night at the house of my comrade’s sister. She was a nurse and was working a lot to help all the refugees. Her father had been beaten to death by the Serbian police a short while before. He was 70 years old when he died.

She told us to be extremely careful as there were a lot of enemy spies around and that we shouldn’t trust anyone. So we decided not to walk around but spend the night inside her house. There wasn’t much to do outside anyway. The house was cramped with refugees from the villages, in each room were at least 30 people.

The night was uneventful, but at around five o'clock we were woken up and told to flee through a small passage at the back of the house. Serbian paramilitaries and police were raiding the street.

The Serbs didn’t have any military reason to do that; they were simply going from house to house and taking money or jewellery from the inhabitants. Who couldn’t pay got beaten up or worse.

We hurried and run down a few streets until we made a stop. There was nothing we could do to help my friend’s family. We had no weapons. My comrade had an uncle at the other end of the city, far away from were we were standing and we decided to go there.

We were not the only people fleeing: A lot of older boys and girls also left their night quarters and hit the streets. The girls afraid to get raped and the boys to get killed.

The problem for them was that there wasn’t really a place for them to go.The city could be entered and left safely only at night. So everybody just ran to the next street corner, watched out for the Serbs and after a while ran back in the opposite direction. This was almost looking like some high school game: Dozens of people, mostly young, running to one side, stopping, turning direction and so on. But of course it was no game: They were running for they life.

We then went to my friend’s uncle and spent an hour with him watching TV. All the time I was looking at a big clock which hung there on the wall. I figured that the night would be relatively safe for us and I was calculating the time which was left until nightfall.

After an hour we said goodbye and we went back to the city center. As my combat boots were damaged I went to a small shoe shop where I could repair them. Of course I had to take the boots off while they were being fixed.

My comrade went after his own chores and I spent an hour sitting in this small shoe repair shop, in my socks, watching out of the window and hoping that no enemy patrol would enter the street and start controlling the shops and houses. I felt very pathetic in my socks and with only a hand grenade in my pocket.

Then my friend came back to pick me up and we went back to his sister’s place. She gave us an account about what had happened to her:

The Serbian paramilitaries entered her house only seconds after we had gone from there. They asked for money and she gave them 100 Deutsche Mark, which was lot of money. She also had to give them her wedding ring. Satisfied, they left and went to her neighbour’s door. She told us that her street was targeted like this about once every week.

We ate dinner, drank tea and started swapping stories with the civilians. They were all very curious about our life on the front line. They were talking in whispers, afraid that somebody might pass by the window and overhear our conversation.

They told us about their daily terror, the beatings and the killings. Meanwhile I was looking at another clock on another wall and again I was counting the hours until nightfall.

My friend and I already decided that we wouldn’t spend another night in the city. It was just too dangerous, not only for us, but with our presence we also endangered the whole neighborhood.

As soon as night fell we left. On our way back we saw that the Serbs had started to burn down the first houses in the city. At the end of the war the whole city would have been burned down.

I was quite happy when we rejoined our base in the forest and I could pick up my gun and wear my uniform again. I’ve been totally stressed out staying in the city for only one day and one night. And these civilians were trapped there all the time! They were continuously terrorized and scared for their life while their living conditions were beyond horrible.

I thought and still do that as soldiers we had a much easier plight then these civilians. At least we could face the enemy in a battle and fight back. The civilians in the city were completely powerless. They never knew what would happen next and nobody was there to protect them.

We also had thousands of refugees near our bases in the mountains. These people also had a hard time: Food was scarce and life in the forest can be rough, especially in rainy weather. But still, they were free and there was no need for them to be afraid for their life all the time.

So, how does it feel to be a civilian in a war zone? Unimaginable horror.

• Do special forces and regular soldiers shoot at the heads of suspected dead enemy soldiers or insurgents, to verify that they are not still alive?
• What is guerilla warfare like? How does it feel to wage war against a superior foe?
• What are some of the war secrets/experiences that soldiers don’t want to talk about after getting back from a war?