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They’ve become experts, Eric thinks, noting their calm and wondering what will prevent the next shell from landing in the middle of the crowd. “Haso! Haso! Look at me! Keep your eyes open! Keep your eyes open! Haso, don’t die! Listen to us! Listen to me, don’t lose consciousness!” The fighting started early the next morning, July 12. This time Ilijaz refused to stand back. He pushed to the front of the lines and started shooting. He shot and he shot. For the first time, he felt pure hatred in his heart. The past weeks of the war he had insisted to the men from his village that they wouldn’t commit atrocities like the Chetniks did, but at this moment he could have strangled every Serb in the world. Something in him had broken. “Nothing bad, Susannah. Nothing bad. I promise.”
