My fifty second (52) writing to my grandchildren
The question is:
“What television programs did you watch as a child?”
My dear grandchildren, your grandfather “Babu” Milan did not watch a single television program as a child. Why? The answer is very simple because at the time when I was born, yesterday, Sunday, August 21, 2022 was my 83rd birthday, there were no TV or television programs. In the village of Bobanova Draga, where I was born, there was no electricity, no radio, no possibility to view the daily news except through the daily newspapers that came to the municipality, where the municipal officials worked, and they were the only ones who knew at that time read and write and had the opportunity to follow and read the daily news that they would tell others when they came home from work. That’s how we in the village found out about the news, which we passed on to others, who in turn passed it onto others, so that the news would spread further.
My dear grandchildren, while I am writing this, all my memories of that time and the memory of them are now running through my head and I feel as if right now, at this moment, I am going to work in the field with my dear dad, and he, curious to find out about some news, would stop a neighbor and he would ask him: do you know anything new and what’s new? If this neighbor knew something and started talking about what he heard and from whom, then the story would develop, and I, as a boy, would just listen, etc. And that’s how it was then, the news spread through the village by word of mouth, and so the news spread further and further.
I know, my dear grandchildren, that this will be very difficult for you to understand and that you will ask yourself: how could those children live then without today’s television programs? The answer to that will be given to you by a Croatian proverb that says: What a man does not have, he can live without! And I, your grandfather “Babu” Milan, as I grew up day by day and knew more and more, I became more and more thirsty for knowledge. I could not acquire the knowledge I was interested in in the Croatian village of Bobanova Draga, where there was no running water, no electricity, or all those other necessities that the question was asked of me. Even as a boy I made my decision to go out into the world to look for a better and more satisfying life. Here I will give you one of my writing, which I wrote at the request of my daughter Drina, your aunt, on the eve of New Year 2010 in San Francisco.
My dear grandchildren, your grandfather “Babu” Milan ends with this, and I will add for you my writing from San Francisco on December 31, 2010, from which you will learn more details.
Your eternal grandfather “Babu” Milan.
English
My Determination
New Year Eve Friday 31st 2010
As a kid of 11 years of age, I had always been working with my dad in the field hearing so many stories from my father related to the beginnings of World War 2, the events during WW2, and the happenings after WW2 from 1945 to the 1950’s. In my young brain in my head, there were a lot of wonders why all of this had to happen. When I ask my dad some specific questions about the missing Croatians from my village the answer was always “You are too young to understand this, my son. Once you’re a little bit older you will know a lot of those answers. Now I cannot tell you too much because you would not understand.”
On Wednesday, May 31st, 1950, my father, and I were working in a vineyard called “Padina”. Around 6:30pm, with still a couple of hours of daylight left, three policemen came, passing through someone else’s land (trespassing on someone’s land), and walked straight to my father asking, “Are you Comrade Petar Boban?” As soon as my father answered, “Yes, I am Petar Boban”, they pulled out tie-wire from their belt and tied up my father’s hands behind his back. When I asked those 3 policemen where they were taking my father, the answer was “You will find out.”
That evening, a score of Croatians from our village were arrested and were taken to the station of Posušje. From that day on, the men’s job fell on my shoulders as an 11-year-old boy. My mom was pregnant. My oldest brother, Jerko, was in school in Zenica while my oldest sister, Jakica, was in school in Sarajevo. My mom did go as many times as it was permitted by the regime to visit my father in jail. He was in jail as an “enemy of the state”. During that time he was in jail, through my teenager’s head, went through so many things and why’s; questions that I didn’t have the answer to. During that time, I was working in the field, plowing, and hoeing with men who were over 30 years of age and on. Maybe the time that my father was in jail did help me to sharpen my brain to be determined in my thinking. During those years, as a teenager, in my village going to church, going to the field, talking to the people, neighbors and friends, I became a rebel. When I say, “a rebel”, I didn’t mean to say “a rebel” to fight with the rifles against someone. As a souvenir I am putting a picture from 1957. of myself and my friend Peter Grubišić as so-called “rebels”. Left is Mile Boban, Peter Grubišić.
When I say, “a rebel”, with these words I try to say that I was not a “yes sir” man. If I did not like something that is going around me caused by the communist regime of Yugoslavia, then I speak up my mind. I knew very well that all those acts I did intentionally, boycotting the regime and its representatives (in this case, the police), I was not conscious, as a teenager, of the consequences of my behavior.
So, when I heard from my mom inside the house with closed doors, telling me about the Croats, our friends, relatives, and neighbors, disappeared during WW2 and that we do not know their fate whether they’re alive, dead, or missing. And that the regime was particularly against any pronunciation of the word “Croats” and so on. Then when I go out in the street in the evening or during the day when I work with the elders in the field, I feel very equipped and superior of them to talk about Croatia, Croatians, WW2, missing of 23 Croatians from my village of Bobanova Draga, then I start to talk about it.
One man by the name of Ikan Boban, Mišin (born in 1917) told me “Milan, I’m going to tell you something. I was a soldier of the Croatian armed forces during WW2, and I know for a fact that Croatian armed forces with the civilians surrendered to the English army in Austria in May 1945. Then, the English army surrendered the Croatians to Tito’s army of Yugoslavia which slaughtered a few hundred thousand Croatians in Slovenia.” Then Ikan Boban (Mišin was his nickname) told me one song which is: “Slovenia puna si borića i kostiju hrvatskih mladića” which translates “Slovenia, as full you are of pine trees, You are also full of Croatian man and soldiers bones”
Then again during the dinner, Ikan told me one other song: “Mene moja naučila mati, pjevaj sine živjeli Hrvati” which translates to “My mother taught me to sing long life to Croats”. That song, with my cousin and friend, Ante Grubišić, we started to sing through the village and through the region without thinking that this song might cause us problems. When I say problems, I must explain this that Yugoslavian communist regime did not allow to Croats to express their nationalistic feelings through any means whatsoever (cultural, folkloric, historical, singing, talking, etc.). There were some people who did approach us telling us that we shouldn’t sing that; it was forbidden, and the police might stop us. Ante and I, as teenagers, didn’t think that a simple song would hurt someone’s feelings. We were naïve.
So, on Friday, June 29th, 1956, in my village of Bobanova Draga there was a celebration of St. Peter and Paul holiday. As tradition dictates, after the mass which started at 11am, after St. Mass we went home for lunch and after lunch, around 2pm, we went to the main road which is about a few hundred yards away to meet with friends and neighbors to walk, talk and sing. We celebrate St. Peter and Paul every year in our village on June 29th. This day my cousin Ante and I sang that song “Mene moja naučila mati, pjevaj sine živjeli Hrvati.” Suddenly, three policemen came to us and stopped us in the middle of the road. One was named Đuro (a typical Serbian name); he was a commander of the police station. The other one was Milan Šorman (also a Serb) while the third one was Hasan, a Croatian muslim, from Bugojno. The purpose of stopping us was that we couldn’t sing nationalistic songs because that is a provocation to the Brastvo I Jedinsvo (which means “Fraternity and Unity”). Then I told those 3 policemen “I think that my song would not hurt anybody, and I am just looking for someone who is going to forbid me to sing this song.“ As I said this, one of the policemen slapped me. As soon as he slapped me above my forehead, mostly on my hair, I grabbed Milan Šorman and threw him onto the ground by the side of the road. As I was struggling with him, Jerko Boban (nickname: Kebić, 1919-2008) and Franjo Boban (nickname: Tuka) jumped to help us, telling the police, “Do you know which village you are passing through?” (This comment was meant to highlight the fact that many distinguished WW2 Croatian generals (such as General Ranko Rafael Boban) and other soldiers came from this village and the Yugoslavian communist regime knew this and feared them.) They continued: “This is not 1945. that you can come with your guns pointed at the people, pulling them from their bed during the night and executing them behind the walls wherever you find it!”
The next day, Saturday, June 29th, I was working with my father on the field around 10am where two policemen came. One was Milan Šorman, the other was Hasan, the Croatian muslim. They want to escort me to Sovići, a town 6km away, to the police station. I told them “You will not escort me on this beautiful day in front of our village for 6 km that my neighbors see me going with you as a thief. You go over there, and I will be there.” They took my word for it and left, and I left too. But I didn’t leave to follow them. I left to exile.
I hope my dear grandchildren that you will know more now about my past life then you did know before.
Your eternal grandfather “Babu” Milan.
—————————————————————
Hrvatski
Moj pedest drugi (52) opis mojim unucima
Pitanje je:
“Koje si televizijske programe gledao kao dijete?”
Dragi moji unuci vaš djed “Babu” Milan kao dijete nije gledao niti jedan televizijski program. Zašto? Odgovor je vrlo jednostavan jer u ta vremena kada sam se ja rodio, jučer, nedjelja 21 kolovoza 2022. godine mi je bio 83 treći rođendan, nije bilo TV niti televizijskih programa. U selu Bobanova Draga gdje sam se ja rodio nije tada bilo ni struje, nije bilo radija, nije bilo mogućnosti pregleda dnevnih vijesti osim preko dnevnih novina koje su dolazile u općinu gdje su radili općinski službenici i oni su bili jedini koji su u ta vremena znali čitati i pisati i imali priliku pratiti i čitati dnevne vijesti koje bi oni prepričavali drugima kada bi došli s posla kući. Tako smo mi tada na selu saznali za vijesti, koje smo prenosili drugima a ovi opet drugima kako bi se vijesti širile dalje.
Dragi moji unuci dok ovo pišem sve moje tadašnje uspomene i sjećanje na njih mi sada prolaze kroz glavu i osjećam se kao da sada, ovog momenta idem sa mojim dragim tatom na njivu raditi, a on znatiželjan saznati za neke vijesti u prolazu bi zaustavio susjeda i on bi ga pitao: da li znaš išta nova i šta ima nova? Ako bi ovaj susjed nešto znao i počeo pričati šta je i od koga čuo, tada bi se priča razvila, a ja kao dečkić bih samo slušao itd. I tako je to tada bilo, vijesti su se preko usta kroz selo širile, i tako su se vijesti sve dalje i dalje širile.
Znam dragi moji unuci da će vama biti ovo vrlo teško razumjeti i da ćete se sami pitati: pa kako su ta djeca mogla tada živjeti bez današnjih televizijskih programa? Odgovor će vam na to dati jedna hrvatska poslovica koja kaže: Čega čovjek nema bez toga on može živjeti! I ja, vaš djed “Babu” Milan kako sam iz dana u dan rastao i sve više sam znao, bio sam sve više i više žedan za znanjem. Znanje koje je mene zanimalo ja nisam mogao steći u hrvatskom selu Bobanova Draga gdje nije tada bilo ni tekuće vode ni struje niti svih onih drugih potrebština koje je pitanje meni postavljeno. I kao dečkić ja sam donio moju odluku ići u svijet tražiti bolji i zadovoljniji život. Ovdje ću vam iznijeti jedan moj opis kojeg sam ja na zahtjev moje kćeri Drine, vaše tetke pisao uoči Nove Godine 2010. u San Francisku.
Dragi moji unuci vaš djed “Babu” Milan s ovim završava a dodat ću za vas moj opis iz San Franciska 31 prosinca 2010. iz kojeg sadržaja ćete vi saznati više detalja.
Vaš vječiti djed “Babu” Milan.
Hrvatski
Moja Odluka
Uoči Nove Godine petak 31 prosinca 2010
Kao klinac od 11 godina, uvijek sam radio s tatom na njivi slušajući toliko priča od mojeg oca vezanih za početak Drugog svjetskog rata, događaje tijekom Drugog svjetskog rata i događaje nakon Drugog svjetskog rata od 1945. do 1950-ih godina. U mom mladom mozgu u mojoj glavi bilo je puno čuda zašto se sve to moralo dogoditi. Kad tati postavim konkretna pitanja o nestalim Hrvatima iz našeg sela, uvijek je odgovor bio “Premlad si da ti to shvatiš, sine moj. Kada budeš malo stariji, znat ćeš ti mnogo tih odgovora. Sad ti ne mogu reći previše jer nećeš razumjeli.”
U srijedu, 31. svibnja 1950., moj otac i ja radili smo u vinogradu zvanom “Padina”. Oko 18.30 sati, a ostalo je još par sati dana, došla su trojica policajaca koji su prolazili preko tuđe zemlje i došli ravno do mog oca pitajući ga: „Jeste li vi drug Petar Boban?“ Čim je moj otac odgovorio: „Da, ja sam Petar Boban“, izvukli su im žicu iz pojasa i vezali mome ocu ruke na leđima. Kada sam pitao ta 3 policajca kamo vode mog oca, odgovor je bio “Saznat ćeš”.
Te večeri uhićeno je desetak Hrvata iz našeg sela koji su odvedeni u postaju milicije Posušje. Od tog dana, muški je posao pao na moja ramena kao dječaka od 11 godina. Moja mama je bila trudna. Moj najstariji brat Jerko je bio u školi u Zenici, dok je moja najstarija sestra Jakica bila u školi u Sarajevu. Moja mama je išla onoliko puta koliko je režim dopuštao posjetiti mog oca u zatvoru. Bio je u zatvoru kao “državni neprijatelj”. Za to vrijeme kroz glavu mog tinejdžera, prošlo je toliko toga i zašto; pitanja na koja nisam imao odgovor. Za to vrijeme radio sam u polju, orao i okopavao s ljudima od 30 godina i više. Možda mi je to vrijeme pomoglo izoštriti moj mozak da budem što odlučniji u mojim razmišljanjima. Za to vrijeme kao mladić, u mom selu išao sam u crkvu, išao u sam polje raditi, razgovarao s ljudima, susjedima i prijateljima, postao sam buntovnik. Kad kažem “buntovnik”, nisam mislio reći “buntovnik” da bi se borio s puškama protiv nekoga.
Kao uspomenu prilažem sliku “takozvanih buntovnika” Mile Boban lijevo i Perka Grubišić, Jurešića, slikano u našoj Zidini 1957.godine.
Kad kažem “buntovnik”, ovim riječima pokušavam reći da nisam bio “takojević, da gospodine ” nego sam bio čovjek. Ako mi se nije svidjelo nešto što se vrti oko mene uzrokovano komunističkim režimom u Jugoslaviji, onda otvoreno govorim o mojem mišljenju.
Znao sam da sve te radnje koje sam činio bile su namjerno, bojkotirajući režim i njegove predstavnike (u ovom slučaju policiju), ali nisam bio svjestan, kao tinejdžer, posljedica mojeg ponašanja. Dakle, kad sam čuo mamu u našoj kući zatvorenih vrata da mi priča o Hrvatima, našim prijateljima, rodbini i susjedima, nestalim tijekom Drugog svjetskog rata i da ne znamo njihovu sudbinu jesu li živi ili mrtvi ili nestali, i da je režim bio posebno protiv bilo kakvog izgovora riječi “Hrvati” i tako dalje. Onda kada izađem na ulicu navečer ili danju kada radim sa odraslima na polju, osjećam se vrlo znano i superiorno od njih da pričam o Hrvatskoj, Hrvatima, drugom svjetskom ratu, nestalih 23 Hrvata iz mog sela Bobanova Draga, onda ja počmem pričati o tome. Jedan čovjek po imenu Ikan Boban (rođen 1917.) mi je rekao: „Milane, reći ću ti nešto. Bio sam vojnik hrvatskih oružanih snaga tijekom Drugog svjetskog rata i pouzdano znam da su se hrvatske oružane snage s civilima predale engleskoj vojsci u Austriji u svibnju 1945. Tada je engleska vojska predala Hrvate Titovoj vojsci Jugoslavije koja je poklala nekoliko stotina tisuća Hrvata u Sloveniji.” Onda mi je Ikan Boban (Mišin mu je bio nadimak) rekao jednu pjesmu koja glasi: “Slovenija puna si borića i kostiju hrvatskih mladica” što u prijevodu znači “.
Ikan mi je opet tijekom večere rekao još jednu pjesmu: “Mene moja naučila mati, pjevaj sine živjeli Hrvati”. Tu pjesmu smo smo moj rođak i moj prijatelj Antom Grubišić pjevali kroz selo i ne razmišljajući da bi nam ova pjesma mogla stvarati probleme. Kad kažem probleme, moram to objasniti da jugoslavenski komunistički režim nije dozvoljavao Hrvatima da izraze svoje rodoljubne osjećaje na bilo koji način (kulturni, folklorni, povijesni, pjevajući, pričajući itd.). Bilo je ljudi koji su nam prišli i rekli nam da to ne smijemo pjevati; jer da je to zabranjeno i policija bi nas mogla uhapsiti. Ante i ja, kao tinejdžeri, nismo mislili da će obična pjesma nekome smetati i povrijediti osjećaje. Bili smo naivni.
Tako je u petak 29. lipnja 1956. u mom selu Bobanova Draga bila proslava blagdana Sv. Petra i Pavla. Kako tradicija postoji, nakon mise koja je počela u 11 sati, otišli smo kući na ručak, a nakon ručka, oko 14 sati, odlazimo na glavnu cestu koja je udaljena nekoliko stotinjak metara kako bismo se sastali s prijateljima i susjedima, prošetali, razgovarali i pjevali. Blagdan sv. Petra i Pavla svake godine u našem selu slavimo 29. lipnja. Ovog dana, moj rođak Ante i ja, pjevali smo onu pjesmu “Mene moja naučila mati, pjevaj sine živjeli Hrvati”. Odjednom su nam došla tri milicionera i zaustavili nas nasred ceste. Jedan se zvao Đuro (tipično srpsko ime); bio je zapovjednik postaje. Drugi je bio Milan Šorman (također Srbin), a treći Hasan, musliman, iz Bugojna. Razlog je bio da su nas zaustavili da ne možemo pjevati nacionalističke pjesme jer je to provokacija na Bratstvo I Jedinstvo. Tada sam ja toj trojici policajaca rekao “Mislim da moja pjesma nikome ne smeta i samo tražim nekoga tko će mi zabraniti zapjevati ovu pjesmu.” Dok sam to rekao, jedan od milicionera me ošamario. Čim me je udario iznad čela, uglavnom po kosi, zgrabio sam tog milicionera Milana Šormana i bacio ga u kanal uz cestu. Dok sam se hrvao s njim, Jerko Boban (nadimak: Kebeć, 1919.-2008.) i Franjo Boban (nadimak: Tuka) priskočili su nam u pomoć i rekli policiji: “Znate li kroz koje selo vi prolazite?” (Ovo treba pojasniti i naglasiti činjenicu da su mnogi ugledni hrvatski generali iz Drugog svjetskog rata (kao što je general Ranko Rafael Boban) i drugi vojnici došli iz ovog sela, a jugoslavenski komunistički režim je to znao i bojao ih se.) Nastavili su: “Ovo nije 1945. da možete doći s oružjem uperenim u ljude, izvlačiti ih iz kreveta tijekom noći i pogubiti ih iza zidina gdje god ih nađete!“
Sljedećeg dana, u subotu, 29. lipnja, radio sam s ocem na njivi. Oko 10 sati k nami dolaze dva milicionera. Jedan je bio Milan Šorman, drugi Hasan, musliman. Hoće me sprovesti u Stanicu Milicije Sovići, 6 km udaljeno. Rekao sam im “Nećete me sprovoditi po ovom lijepom danu kroz naše sele 6 km. da me susjedi vide da idem kako me vi vodite kao lopova. Vi idi, ja znam gdje je stanica i ja ću doći tamo.” Povjerovali su mi na riječ i otišli su svojim putem, a i ja sam otišao mojim putem. Ali, nisam otišao da ih pratim. Otišao sam u progonstvo, emigraciju.
Nadam se dragi moji dragi unuci da ćete vi saznati više sada o meni nego ste znali prije.
Vaš vječiti djed “Babu” Milan.
Odgovori
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