In the evening I recognize that I have a fever—I am ill. Is this the beginning of the end? God, don't let me give in. We got 2 biscuits but I can't eat! I remember home. Such a sad Christmas Eve. I lay burning in the thorns and praying like never in my life! I wonder what my parents are doing now!
December 25
A Christmas feast! Radnicka platoon embark! I stood in queue for departure. Our sergeant was missing; my platoon was not going. All my friends left, and I stayed here. I joined the 10. platoon but when we reached the raft they had stopped ferrying. I am hopeless! I gave my last underwear for a piece of broj and my last 3 dinars. Now I am penniless.
December 26
Again no ferrying today! Horror is reaching its peak here. Full of corpses no one collects and no one cares to bury. An ugly stench is in the air. Flocks of ravens circle the sky. They smell a good feast.
December 27
No ferrying today. I have lost all hope and given in to destiny. The Serbs steal all that is still left. More than 2000 people left for the woods but keep coming back—there is much snow there, and Albanians who beat them to death and rob them. They say Zizkovic too was robbed and killed there.
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