Apache6
05-28-2015, 07:44 PM
Much of this is adopted from the article "Yugoslavia's Civil War -- Meet The Borotas: A Serbian family In a Croat Home" By Inga Saffron, Knight-Ridder Newspapers.
Soviet, Russification of East Germany.
PELOSTAD, Eastern Germany, Soviet Controlled Zone, Sept 1998 -
A child's tricycle sits in the grass outside the Borota brothers' new home in the northeast Germany, although neither has children young enough to ride it. The cupboards are full of photographs of people they've never known, of clothes they've never worn, and a brand of whiskey they've never tasted.
The Borota, are ethnic Russians, their new home used to belong to a German who proved disloyal. They were moved to this Soviet-controlled town in may after having spent a brutal three months in a refugee camp after their Native city was destroyed by a tactical nuclear attack, targeted at the rail hub. "I can't imagine staying here, no," Milivoj Borota, 37, said, shaking his head resolutely. "I built my house with my own hands. It's my village, my born land. Even if they gave me a golden house with golden furniture, I could never be happy here."
The Borotas' story illustrates one of the basic realities of the Twilight War: Land becomes the property of those who occupy it. Right now, it's the Soviets who occupy Pelostad, a fertile river plain 25 KM west of the old Polish border, renowned for its bumper grain crops.
15,000 people, mostly Ethnic Russians and some Ukrainians were resettled here. As soon as the Soviet forces had Pelostad under their control, they began to strengthen their hold by settling Soviet refugees in the abandoned homes. In a matter of three months, they brought in 15,000 Soviets residents, providing them with furnished homes, farms, livestock, vineyards.
NATO isn't happy about the ethnic cleansing or the appropriation of civilian property, and it has let the Soviets know it, said Robert Rackmales, deputy chief of missions at the U.S. Embassy in Leningrad. "We consider it to be a clear violation of the rules of war," he said.
But neither are all the Soviet refugees happy. The modest, five-room, brick-and-stucco house assigned to a dozen members of the large Borota clan is nice enough, "but it's not mine," said Milivoj Borota, who worked in a shoe factory and on and off as a driver before his town was destroyed. He does not know how to be a farmer, and the quotas demanded of him are unrealistic, if he is to feed his family as well. Several family members sprawl around the well-worn modular sofa in their new quarters, playing cards and drinking the owner's whiskey, while Dushanka Borota stirs a thick stew, using the utensils she found in the owner's kitchen. "I would rather live in a hole," her husband, Branko, 44, snapped. "Why shouldn't I be able to go back to my village?"
After staring sullenly for a moment, the burly Branko turns genial again and begins to talk about the previous occupant of the house. All the family knows about him is that they were Fascist.
The refugees have not only helped to repopulate Baranja, but many also play a crucial part in its defense as members of a farmers militia unit run by Baranja's Soviet administrator. Branko Borota and two brothers joined, along with 175 other men from their village, they trained and fought to retain control of their new village. After three months of occasional shootouts with marauders (several of whom may have been the previous owner of his home) and sleeping in cornfields, the Borota brothers say they are sure the harvest is secure.
While the new Soviet settlers in Baranja say they don't want to remain, there are signs that some are putting down roots. In the fall, refugees began tending the vineyards abandoned by Polishfamilies and they will likely produce a wine this spring. It is not clear who will own the batch, or the caves where older vintages are stored.
Soviet, Russification of East Germany.
PELOSTAD, Eastern Germany, Soviet Controlled Zone, Sept 1998 -
A child's tricycle sits in the grass outside the Borota brothers' new home in the northeast Germany, although neither has children young enough to ride it. The cupboards are full of photographs of people they've never known, of clothes they've never worn, and a brand of whiskey they've never tasted.
The Borota, are ethnic Russians, their new home used to belong to a German who proved disloyal. They were moved to this Soviet-controlled town in may after having spent a brutal three months in a refugee camp after their Native city was destroyed by a tactical nuclear attack, targeted at the rail hub. "I can't imagine staying here, no," Milivoj Borota, 37, said, shaking his head resolutely. "I built my house with my own hands. It's my village, my born land. Even if they gave me a golden house with golden furniture, I could never be happy here."
The Borotas' story illustrates one of the basic realities of the Twilight War: Land becomes the property of those who occupy it. Right now, it's the Soviets who occupy Pelostad, a fertile river plain 25 KM west of the old Polish border, renowned for its bumper grain crops.
15,000 people, mostly Ethnic Russians and some Ukrainians were resettled here. As soon as the Soviet forces had Pelostad under their control, they began to strengthen their hold by settling Soviet refugees in the abandoned homes. In a matter of three months, they brought in 15,000 Soviets residents, providing them with furnished homes, farms, livestock, vineyards.
NATO isn't happy about the ethnic cleansing or the appropriation of civilian property, and it has let the Soviets know it, said Robert Rackmales, deputy chief of missions at the U.S. Embassy in Leningrad. "We consider it to be a clear violation of the rules of war," he said.
But neither are all the Soviet refugees happy. The modest, five-room, brick-and-stucco house assigned to a dozen members of the large Borota clan is nice enough, "but it's not mine," said Milivoj Borota, who worked in a shoe factory and on and off as a driver before his town was destroyed. He does not know how to be a farmer, and the quotas demanded of him are unrealistic, if he is to feed his family as well. Several family members sprawl around the well-worn modular sofa in their new quarters, playing cards and drinking the owner's whiskey, while Dushanka Borota stirs a thick stew, using the utensils she found in the owner's kitchen. "I would rather live in a hole," her husband, Branko, 44, snapped. "Why shouldn't I be able to go back to my village?"
After staring sullenly for a moment, the burly Branko turns genial again and begins to talk about the previous occupant of the house. All the family knows about him is that they were Fascist.
The refugees have not only helped to repopulate Baranja, but many also play a crucial part in its defense as members of a farmers militia unit run by Baranja's Soviet administrator. Branko Borota and two brothers joined, along with 175 other men from their village, they trained and fought to retain control of their new village. After three months of occasional shootouts with marauders (several of whom may have been the previous owner of his home) and sleeping in cornfields, the Borota brothers say they are sure the harvest is secure.
While the new Soviet settlers in Baranja say they don't want to remain, there are signs that some are putting down roots. In the fall, refugees began tending the vineyards abandoned by Polishfamilies and they will likely produce a wine this spring. It is not clear who will own the batch, or the caves where older vintages are stored.