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The beds are full and most of the roughly seventy patients lying six or more to a room are young men, but some are women, children, the elderly, and even babies. Almost all suffer from injuries caused by shell fragments, mines, or bullets. There’s simply no room for those with illnesses. Using what few supplies they have and what knowledge they can muster, Ilijaz, Fatima, and their four colleagues struggle to keep them alive in a town without any shops, electricity, or—because so many of its original residents fled and so many villagers were displaced here—many familiar faces. Nedret later liked to say that it was the reporter’s words that crystallized his decision to attempt the trip. Of course, there were a myriad other possible reasons, conscious and unconscious. Adventure. Escapism. Thirst for a new challenge. Going to Srebrenica offered Nedret a chance to one-up his medical school rival, earn glory, get away fromhis wife, and honor the memory of his dead father. But these weren’t the motivations he’d later remember. He insisted that it was simple. He wanted to help, and like his old hero, Sava Kovac?evi?, he would risk death for the opportunity. “She will see you tomorrow,” he said. He could tell I was upset that my mother hadn’t come, even though it had been the right decision for her to go home that night. Then: “I can’t feel my legs, Dad.” I sounded convinced.
