them. He then pardoned them but left them tied up.
Today we witnessed the height of his animality. The cooks, due to a lack of firewood, went to cut down a tree about 600 steps from the mess. Zizkovic saw them and brought a rifle from the tent, saying that he must test the aim. He aimed and shot one cook, Janota, in his belly. When Janota was brought back, the commander said, "My arm fell down—I was aiming at his head." When the medic, Krticka, requested to have the wounded Janota transported to Elbasan, Zizkovic refused, saying, "Let him die. He killed enough Serbs." Poor Janota died the next day in terrible pain. Such a monster has power over us!
December 9
Once every 3 days we get a few biscuits or a half of a loaf of bread. The weather is nice and warm. We have gone 4 kilometers farther and built a camp. I went for 2 hours to the Arnauts' houses to get something to eat—in vain. From afar an Arnaut shouted, "Ska ič buka[1]," waved his rifle, and released his dogs. Somehow I am not surprised. The captives pass through the country like robbers, attacking houses at night, stealing cattle, chicken, and corn. They risk their lives. Many are killed by Arnauts; many starve to death in valleys and swamps. These are not people anymore but animals who would murder their own friends for a piece of bread.
- ↑ Unknown meaning
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