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In fact, some of the doctors begin to suspect the truth, that Nedret has had almost no formal surgical training. At the moment, though, there doesn’t seem to be a reason to prod him. Nedret’s arrival has boosted the town’s morale so much that, though the doctors whisper amongst themselves about his lack of surgical training, they don’t broadcast it to the townspeople. Besides, from the instant he arrived, Nedret has taken charge of all the surgeries in Srebrenica. He is bold. He attempts operations, particularly abdominal repairs, that the rest of them never would have dared to try. Wounded and dying Bosnian peasants don’t ask to see their surgeon’s diploma. The truck rumbles back into town and people spill out of it, tanned and dirty young men in uniforms or civilian clothing and a few women. They jump down from the back of the truck, tired faces scanning the crowd for family members. The truck empties. People mill around, kissing cheeks, clapping hands on backs, and issuing hearty greetings. Others search the new arrivals for a gray-haired stranger, the expected surgeon. New Year’s Eve has always been Fatima’s favorite holiday. The couple sits in Ilijaz’s dark apartment with friends, trying to wrest some sort of New Year’s cheer from the wartime gloom. This year they do not talk about the future.* * *
