Pitanje je: “Kako je bilo kad si morao otići iz Hrvatske? Jesi li mislio da ćeš se vratiti?”

MY (12) WAYS OF THE CROSS = (12) MOJIH KRIŽNIH POSTAJA

                                                     Hrvatski

                                   MOJ NAJVESELIJI BOŽIĆ 2022

Kako je došlo do ove knjige:

                               “ZBIRKA ŽIVOTNIH PRIČA”.

                                       Ova knjiga ima 435 stranica

 How this book came about:
“A COLLECTION OF LIFE STORIES”.

                                 This book has 435 pages

                     My fifty-first (51) writing to my grandchildren.
The question is:
“What was it like when you had to leave Croatia? Did you think you would come back?”

My dear grandchildren, this is a question that has bothered me since I can remember, and that was when I was 3 and a half years old, that is, in March 1943.I  will try to describe my memories in twelve (12) Ways of the Cross which I went through:

My First Station of Cross is when the Yugoslav communists came for the first time through the Croatian village of Bobanova Draga and started robbing and arresting young men and taking them with them into the communist struggle against the Croats and the Croatian State. I remember that because we had to hide in the hills and forests above our village. My father Petar was in the Croatian army in the Home Guard, while my mother with five small children and other women with their children had to hide all night, until the morning when we found out that the Yugoslav communists had already left our village. That’s what I still remember.

My Second Station of Cross is when the Yugoslav communist authorities took over all power over my Motherland Croatia in May 1945. The Croatian State and the Croatian Army were no longer there to defend and protect the Croats and the Croatian people. Yugoslav communists patrolled all Croatian villages looking for those Croatian soldiers who escaped the Yugoslav communist massacres after the surrender of the Croatian army and civilians to the Western Allies on May 15, 1945 in a small Austrian town on Bleiburg. As soon as over half a million Croatian soldiers and civilians surrendered to the Allies, they immediately began handing over Croatian soldiers and civilians to Tito’s communists for slaughter. These are the facts that were strictly hidden from both Tito and the Allies. Today, the massacres of the Croatian army and civilians are known. In Slovenia, Croatia and Bosnia, over thousands of pits and graves have been found where Yugoslav communists dumped slain Croatian soldiers and civilians. In the true international vocabulary and meaning, it is a real GENOCIDE OF THE CROATIAN PEOPLE. That’s what the witnesses told me and that’s how I remember it.

My Third Station of the Cross is when the Yugoslav authorities expelled the entire population of the village of Bobanova Draga in November 1947 and placed them in the village of Vlašići. They did this so that at night they could look for those Croatian soldiers from Bobanova Draga, of whom there were over twenty who escaped the massacre at Bleiburg, Slovenia, etc. I can never forget that.

My Fourth Station of the Cross is when the Yugoslav authorities arrested my father Petar at 6 o’clock in the afternoon on Wednesday, May 31, 1950, while he was watering the vines. I was there helping my father when 3 policemen came across the field and asked my father: Are you Comrade Petar Boban, when my father answered that he was, they hurriedly threw themselves at my father, tied his hands behind his back with a wire, told him that he was arrested as a national enemy and enemy of the state. My father, with his hands tied, asks them if he can go home and change, the answer is  no, you are going with us to the National Militia Station in Sovići. I took a machine for watering the vines and other things and I walked home sad, and on the way my neighbors tell me that they saw my father being led by the militia tied up through the village like he is a thief. When I came home I found my dear Mother crying and saying how will we survive this now without my husband and your father. Today, Tuesday, September 6, 2022, as I write this, my skin crawls when I remember how sad it was back then.

My Fifth Station of the Cross was when my father Petar came from prison in July 1952, and in August the authorities took him into reserve for 3 months. Harvest time, there is not enough labor. We all  had to get up early, we worked all day in order to bring the harvest to the house on time. I was then a teenager and I started telling the truth around the village where there were hidden informers who reported me to the authorities for defying them. One afternoon they came to arrest me and take me to the People’s Militia Station in Sovići. There they interrogated me and wrote down everything I answered. When they finished questioning, they gave me that paper to sign. I didn’t want to sign. They asked me why? I told them that I could not write and that I did not go to school. They didn’t believe me and since it was night, almost midnight, they put me in jail. Tomorrow they let me go and told me to be careful of what I say in the future; because we are the government and we have the duty to monitor what and where who says what against the people’s government. This is the Yugoslav regime that democratic America greatly protected and helped until the fall of communism and the Berlin Wall 1989. and the fall of Yugoslavia in 1991. I remember that very well and I cannot forget it.

My Sixth Station of the Cross was when I was on the feast of St. Patra and Pavla, on Friday June 29, 1956, I sang the Croatian national song: “My mother taught me, sing my son, long live the Croats”. That day was the feast of St. Peter and Paul and our parish bears the name of St. Peter and Paul. We celebrate this holiday every year when relatives, friends and acquaintances meet and enjoy the joy of St. Peter and Paul holiday. Of course, there was also the Yugoslav communist militia to keep the so-called peace and order, and when they heard that Croatian song, they immediately jumped on me, telling me that I shouldn’t sing Croatian chauvinistic songs. As a minor, I started to defend myself, and a Serbian militiaman, Milan Šorman, started pushing me. I defended myself and in that defense there was a fight, and my neighbors and friends jumped to my defense. There was now a big crowd and fistifights. Thanks to the Croats who were members of the KPJ, which means the Communist Party of Yugoslavia, the matter calmed down without major harm.

My Seventh Station of the Cross was on Saturday, June 30, 1956. When I was working in the field with my father, I saw two militiamen coming toward us quickly. I immediately recognized them, Milan Šorman, a Serb, and Hasan, a Croatian Bosnian Muslim from Bugojno. The first words were: Hello comrades, we bring you the official confirmation for the arrest of youth Mile Boban. (To clarify that at that time the communist regime considered every boy under the age of 17 a “youth” and they could not call him “comrade” because he was not yet old enough for the army). As soon as they wanted to tie my hands with wire and escort me to the National Militia Station in Sovići, I objected, telling them: I know where the Station is and I will come there when I change my clothes, and you will not escort me through my village as if I am a thief. They trusted me and went on their way, and I…

My Eighth Station of the Cross was when the militiamen left, my father Petar told me: My son, there is no longer a peaceful life here for you. Four corners of the world and choose one, but don’t choose the East, because all the evil ones come from the East. Choose the West. Go home and tell your mother to give you money for the trip, but leave some for us too, because we’ll need it too. And it was like that. I came home and told my mother everything. She immediately started crying. We went to the room where my parents slept. She took out a large wallet where they kept the household money. She gave me five thousand Yugoslavian dinars, food for the trip, crying, looking at me and saying: My son, how difficult is it for your mother now. My eyes will never see you again. Cross yourself on all four sides, because you don’t know from where and from which side misfortune can catch you. I kissed my Mother and told her that I will be back…

My Ninth Stations of the Cross was that I secretly went through the forest and hills to Posušje, where I took a bus to Mostar, a train from Mostar to Sarajevo, where I changed the train from Sarajevo to Sisak, where my brother Jerko lived and worked. I was there with him for 3 days without telling him my intention, except that I was going to Slovenia to look for a job. There, my brother Jerko gave me some advice and told me to go to Zagreb, Zidani Most, Celje, etc. That’s what I did. In two days I was in Mislinja, Slovenia.

My Tenth Stations of the Cross was where I found a job. I was there for almost three years and did various construction jobs. During that time, I followed the events closely by myself and prepared a way to escape across the Yugoslav communist border to the West. I am putting a picture before my departure in exile Sunday September 6th 1959.

                                                 

From left: Ivan Boban known as Juka, Ante Pejić, known as Lelo, Mile Boban your grandfather, Jerko Boban known as Kukić, Ante Kozina,

                                                      squatting from left: Franjo Boban, Belin, Franjo Boban, Coković.

My eleventh Station of the Cross was when I crossed the Yugoslav-Italian border between Koper and Trieste on Monday morning, September 7, 1959, at 3:15 in the night. From Trieste I took the Milan – Turin bus and from Turin the train to Cuneo. I spent the night there in the waiting room of the train station. Tomorrow I continued my journey, of course on foot towards the French border. Of course I secretly crossed from Italy to France on Wednesday evening. I spent the night there in that French city – the name of which I do not remember now – and tomorrow, Thursday, September 10, 1959, I took a bus and arrived around 4 o’clock in the afternoon in the city of Nice, in the south of France.

My  twelfth Station of the Cross was when I came to Paris. I applied for political asylum there. I got a temporary residence permit, found a job,  worked and went to school to learn French in order to explain to the French authorities as best as possible that I am not a Yugoslav but a born Croat. I always stated my nationality as Croat in the official forms. The French authorities did not recognize this. They wanted me to state that I was a Yugoslav, which I persistently refused. (picture).
My dear grandchildren, I developed a French life there in Paris, found a beautiful French girl, married her on Saturday, July 31, 1965. I am putting a picture of our wedding.

We are happily married and have six children. And finally, on Sunday, June 23, 1991, I came to my Bobanova Draga and said to my Mother Iva Boban: Here I am Mother, your son Milan has returned.
Your eternal grandfather “Babu” Milan.

Translated into Croatian = Prevedeno na hrvatski

                                  Moj pedeset prvi (51) opis mojim unucima.
Pitanje je:

“Kako je bilo kad si morao otići iz Hrvatske? Jesi li mislio da ćeš se vratiti?”                                 

          How this book came about:
“A COLLECTION OF LIFE STORIES”.

                                 This book has 435 pages

Dragi moji unuci to je pitanje koje je mene mučilo od kada se sjećam da sam počeo pamtiti, a to je bilo kada mi je bilo 3 i pol godine, dakle u ožujku 1943. Ja ću nastojati opisati moja sjećanja u dvanaest (12) križnih puteva kroz koja sam ja prošao:

Moja Prva Postaja Križnog Puta  je bila kada su po prvi puta kroz naše hrvatsko selo Bobanova Draga jugoslavenski komunisti došli i počeli pljačkati i mlade dečke hapsiti te ih voditi sa sobom u komunističku borbu protiv Hrvata i Hrvatske Države. Toga se sjećam iz razloga toga što smo se morali kriti u brdima i šumama iznad našeg sela. Moj otac Petar je bio u hrvatskoj vojsci u Domobranima dok je moja Majka sa petero male djece a tako i druge žene sa svojom djecom smo se morali kriti cijelu noć, do jutra kad smo doznali da su jugoslavenski komunisti već napustili naše selo. To je čega se ja još uvijek sjećam.

Moja Druga Postaja Križnog Puta je bila kada jugoslavenske komunističke vlasti preuzele svu vlast nad mojom Domovinom Hrvatskom u svibnju 1945. Hrvatske Države niti Hrvatske vojske više nije bilo da bi mogli braniti i zaštititi Hrvate i hrvatski narod. Jugoslavenski komunisti su patrolirali sva hrvatska sela tražeći one hrvatske vojnike koji su se spasili od jugoslavenskih komunističkih pokolja poslije predaje hrvatske vojske i civila zapadnim Saveznicima 15 svibnja 1945. u jednom malom austrijskom gradu na Bleiburgu. Čim su se preko pola milijuna hrvatske vojske i civila predali Saveznicima, ovi su odmah počeli izručivati hrvatsku vojsku i civile titovim komunistima na klanje. To su činjenice koje su se strogo krile i od tite i od strane Saveznika. Danas se otkrili i za te pokolje hrvatske vojske i civila se zna. Po Sloveniji, Hrvatskoj i Bosni preko tisuće pronađenih jama i grobnica gdje su jugoslavenski komunisti bacali pobijene hrvatske vojske i civile. U pravom međunarodnom rječniku i smislu, to je jedan pravi GENOCID  HRVATSKOG NARODA. Tako su meni svjedoci pričali i tako se ja toga sjećam.

Moja Treća Postaja Križnog Puta je bila kada su jugoslavenske vlasti u studenom 1947. godine istjerali pučanstvo cijelog sela Bobanova Draga i smjestili ga u selo Vlašići. To su oni učinili zato da po noći mogu tražiti one hrvatske vojnike iz Bobanove Drage kojih je bilo preko dvadeset i koji su se spasili pokolja na Bleiburgu, Sloveniji itd. To ja nikada zaboraviti ne mogu.

Moja Četvrta Postaja Križnog Puta je bila kada su jugoslavenske vlasti srijeda 31 svibnja 1950. uhapsile mog oca Petra u 6 sati poslije podne dok je polivao lozu. Ja sam bio tu i pomagao mojem ocu polivati lozu. Došla su 3 milicionera preko njiva i pitali mojeg oca: Jeste li vi drug Petar Boban, našto je moj otac odgovorio da jest, oni su se žurno bacili na mog oca, sa žicom mu svezali ruke na leđa, rekli mu da je uhapšen kao narodni neprijatelj i neprijatelj države. Moj otac vezanih ruku ih pita da li može otići kući se presvući, odgovor je bio ne, ti ideš s nama u Stanicu Narodne Milicije u Soviće. Uzeo sam mašinu za polivanje loze i druge stvari i tužan i žalostan putem idem kući a u puti mi susjedi govore da su vidjeli mojeg oca kako ga milicija svezana kroz selo vodi kao lopova. Kad sam došao kući našao sam moju dragu Majku kako plače i govori kako ćemo mi sada ovo preživjeti bez mojeg muža i vašeg oca. Danas, utorak 6 rujna 2022., dok ovo pišem koža mi se ježi kad se sjetim kako je to tužno tada bilo.

Moja Peta Postaja Križnog Puta je bila kada je moj otac Petar iz zatvora došao u srpnju 1952. godine, a u kolovozu ga vlasti uzeli 3 mjeseca u rezervu. Vrijeme berbe, radne snage nema dovoljno, svi se rano ustajemo, radimo po cijeli dan kako bi berbu na vrijeme u kuću unijeli. Ja sam sada tinejdžer i počeo sam istinu pričati po selu gdje je bilo skrivenih doušnika koji su me prijavili vlastima da im ja prkosim. Jedno poslije podne došli su me uhapsiti i sprovesti u Stanicu narodne Milicije u Soviće. Tu su me ispitivali i sve zapisivali što sam ja odgovarao. Kad su završili ispitivanje, dali su mi taj papir da potpišem. Ja nisam htio potpisati. Pitali su me zašto? Rekao sam im da ja ne znam pisati i da nisam išao u školu. Nisu mi vjerovali a pošto je bila noć, skoro pola noći, stavili su me u zatvor. Sutra su me pustili i rekli mi da se ubuduće pazim šta ću govoriti; jer mi smo vlast i imamo tu dužnost da pratimo šta i gdje tko što govori protiv narodne vlasti. To je taj jugoslavenski režim kojeg je demokratska Amerika uveliko štitila, i pomagala sve do pada komunizma, pada berlinskog zida 1989. i pada Jugoslavije 1991. Toga se ja vrlo dobro sjećam i to ja ne mogu zaboraviti.

Moja Šesta Postaja Križnog Puta je bila kada sam na blagdan sv. Petra i Pavla, petak 29 lipnja 1956. godine pjevao hrvatsku nacionalnu pjesmu: “Mene moja naučila mati, pjevaj sine živjeli Hrvati”. Taj dan je bila fešta sv. Petra i Pavla i naša župa nosi ime sv. Petra i Pavla. Mi taj blagdan slavimo svake godine gdje se svojta, prijatelji i poznanici sastanu i u zajedničkom prijateljstvu uživaju u veselju taj sv. Petra i Pola blagdan. Tu je naravno bila i jugoslavenska komunistička milicija za čuvanje takozvanog reda i mira i kada su oni čuli tu hrvatsku pjesmu, odmah su skočili na mene, govoreći mi da ne smijem pjevati hrvatske šovinističke pjesme. Ja kao maloljetnik sam se počeo braniti a jedan milicioner Srbin Milan Šorman me je počeo gurati. Ja sam se branio i u toj obrani je došlo do tuče, a moji susjedi i prijatelji su skočili u moju obranu. Tu se je sada stvorila velika gužva i šakatanje. Zahvaljujući Hrvatima koji su bili članovi KPJ što znači Komunističke Partije Jugoslavije, stvar se je smirila bez većeg zla.

Moja Sedma Postaja Križnog Puta je biia subota 30 lipnja 1956. kada sam s mojim ocem radio na njivi, vidio sam kako brzim korakom dolaze dva milicionera kod nas. Odmah sam ih prepoznao, Srbin Milan Šorman i hrvatski bosanski musliman od Bugojna Hasan. Prve riječi su bile: Zdravo drugovi, donosimo vam službenu potvrdu za hapšenje omladinca Mile Boban. (Za objasniti da je tada komunistički režim  smatrao svakog dečkića ispod 17 godina “omladinac” i nisu ga mogli zvati “drug” jer još nije bio dorastao za vojsku). Čim su oni htjeli meni ruke vezati žicom i sprovesti me do Stanice Narodne Milicije u Soviće, ja sam se usprotivio, govorći im: Ja znam gdje je Stanica i ja ću doći tamo kad se presvučem, a vi mene nećete sprovoditi kroz moje selo kao da sam ja lopov. Oni su povjerovali i otišli su svojim putem, a ja…

Moja Osma Postaja Križnog Puta je bila kada su milicioneri otišli, moj otac Petar meni govori: Moj sink za tebe ovdje nema više mirnog života. Četiri strane svijeta te izaberi jednu ali nemoj izabrati Istok jer svi zli s istoka dolaze. Izaberi Zapad. Idi kući i reci tvojoj mamo da ti dadne novca za put, ali ostavi malo i za nas, jer će i nama trebati. Tako je i bilo. Ja sam došao kući i sve materi rekao. Ona je odmah počela plakati. Otišli smo u sobu gdje su moji roditelji spavali. Ona je izvadila jedan veliki novčanik gdje su oni držali kućni novac. Dala mi je pet tisuća jugoslavenskih dinara, hrane za put, plačući gledajući u mene i govori mi: Moj sinko kako je  tvojoj majci teško sada. Moje oči te nikada više neće vidjeti. Prekrsti se na sve četiri strane, jer ne znaš odakle i s koje strane nesreća te može uhvatiti. Ja sam poljubio moju Majku i rekao joj da ću se ja vratiti…

Moja Deveta Postaja Križnog Puta je bila da sam potajno preko šume i brda došao do Posušja odakle sam uzeo autobus do Mostara, vlak od Mostara do Sarajeva gdje sam promijenio vlak od Sarajeva za Sisak gdje mi je brat Jerko živio i radio. Tu sam sa njim bio 3 dana a da mu nisam rekao moju namjeru, osim da idem u Sloveniju tražiti posao. Tu mi je brat Jerko dao neke savjete i rekao da idem za Zagreb, Zidani Most, Celje itd. Tako sam učinio. Za dva dana sam bio u Mislinja, u Sloveniji.
Moja Deseta Postaja Križnog Puta je bila da sam tu našao posao. Bio sam tu skoro tri godine i radio razne građevinske poslove. Za to vrijeme sam pomno pratio zbivanja i pripremao put za bijeg preko jugoslavenske komunističke granice na Zapad. Prilažem sliku prije polaska u emigraciju, nedjelja 6. rujna 1959.

Moja Jedanaesta Postaja Križnog Puta je bila kada sam u ponedjeljak jutro 7 rujna 1959. godine u 3 sata i 15 minuta u noći  prešao jugoslavensku talijansku granicu između Kopra i Trsta. Iz Trsta sam uzeo autobus Milano – Torino a od Torina vlak do Cuneo. Tu sam prenoćio u čekaonici željezničke postaje. Sutra sam nastavio put, naravno pješke prema francuskoj granici. Naravno potajno sam u srijedu večer prešao iz Italije u Francusku. Tu sam u tom francuskom gradu – kojeg se imena sada ne sjećam – prenoćio i sutra, četvrtak 10 rujna 1959. uzeo sam autobus i došao oko 4 sata poslije podne u grad Nica, na jugu Francuske.

Moja Dvanaesta Postaja Križnog Puta je bila kada sam došao u Pariz. Tu sam zatražio politički azil. Dobio sam privremenu dozvolu boravka, našao sam posao, radio sam i u školu išao da naučim francuski jezik kako bih što bolje francuskoj vlasti objasnio da ja nisam Jugoslaven nego rođeni Hrvat. Ja sam u službenim formularima uvijek stavljao moju narodnost  Hrvat. To francuska vlast nije priznavala. Oni su htjeli da ja stavim da sam Jugoslaven, što sam ja uporno odbija. (slika).

Dragi moji unuci tu sam se ja u Parizu razvio u francuski život, pronašao lijepu francusku djevojku, oženio ju subota 31 srpnja 1965. Prilažem sliku našeg vjenčanja.

Sretni u braku imamo šestero djece. I konačno u nedjelju 23 lipnja 1991. godine ja sam došao u moju Bobanova Draga i rekao mojoj Majci Ivi Boban: Evo mene Majko, vratio ti se je sin Milan.
Vaš vječiti djed “Babu” Milan.

Mile Boban