The Washington Post
October 24, 1992
ZAGREB – In Bosnia-Hercegovina, there is no such thing as “safe passage” from trouble.
That is the harrowing lesson 1,000 ethnic Croats learned when they agreed to abandon their surrounded villages in Serb-controlled territory last weekend after receiving promises from local Serb commanders that their escape convoy would not be harmed.
The 30-bus convoy was escorted by officials from the International Committee of the Red Cross and a Bosnian Serb leader, but that did not stop militiamen along the 24-hour trek from shooting at the buses and trying to rob the refugees.
According to a Red Cross official, the one thing that saved the Croat refugees from bloodshed was the intercession of Vojo Kupresanin, a hard-line Serb leader from the Bosnian Serb-held city of Banja Luka. Kupresanin dashed up and down the convoy whenever Serb militiamen stopped the buses, begging them not to rob or murder in front of Red Cross officials.
“The situation was tense the whole way,” said Bert Schweizer, one of the convoy’s Red Cross escorts. “It was unpleasant for us, but not nearly as unpleasant and tense as for the people inside the buses.”
The convoy, which finally reached safety on Sunday in Travnik, a Bosnian government-controlled city west of Sarajevo, is another illustration of the deadly Catch-22 awaiting tens of thousands of outgunned Croats and Muslims in isolated villages throughout Serb-conquered territory.
If the villagers try to defend themselves against the organized Serb forces that do most of the besieging, their homes will likely be mortared to bits. If they agree to surrender and flee, Serb militias in the hills are likely to loot or kill them. Over the past month, fleeing refugees have recounted tales of militiamen boarding refugee convoys and taking off fighting-age men for immediate execution.
According to Schweizer, reached in Banja Luka by satellite phone, the drama began last Saturday, when about 1,000 ethnic Croats in three surrounded villages near Banja Luka agreed to surrender to the Serbs. The Croats gave up on condition that they receive “safe passage” guarantees from the Serbs — police protection plus a Red Cross escort.
The convoy set out at midday Saturday, according to Schweizer, with several Serb policemen riding in each bus and four Red Cross officials following in two vehicles.
Serb civilians lined the road and shouted insults at the buses, making obscene gestures and shouting threats, according to Schweizer. This is an experience other Croat and Muslim refugees fleeing Serb territory have reported.
Once the convoy reached the mountains, militiamen frequently stopped the buses and tried to board them. The militiamen — whom Schweizer described as “uncontrollable” — apparently wanted to rob the terrified Croats and, ominously, wanted them to disembark on the spot. One of the buses was shot at, shattering its windows, but nobody was injured.
Because of a storm, bus breakdowns and the militiamen, the convoy fell behind schedule and had to stop overnight in a forest. At dawn Sunday, the buses started out again, reaching the front line by 11 a.m. The terrified Croats disembarked and walked, unescorted, to safety through a 500-yard stretch of no man’s land littered with the human debris of previous battles.
