(Liberation of Eastern Mostar on 18th June, 1992)

Karadyozbeg's mosque does not look like itself. Minaret is severed in two. Kuyundziluk pic, near the Old Bridge, once the most famous part of the city, looks horrible. Here, everything has gone to hell: teahouses, restaurants, Turkish house, grill houses, goldsmiths' and watchmakers' workshops. Amongst stone plates of Kuyundziluk I suddenly perceived a tourist publication about Mostar pic, in Italian. It is partially burned, but readable. Poet Giacomo Scotti translated the text to Italian. Verses telling of Mostar that we used to know were written by another poet, Alex Santic, who is now but a pierced statue with a rope around his head.
A fighter passes by and mutters: 'Dammit!'
We ask him, what's that all about.
He keeps on muttering, 'Now I will have to mine it myself. It would be better if they razed it completely.'
Then he continues, in a more articulate manner: 'my house is down there, less than 50m away heavily damaged. Can't be repaired. Now I will have to mine my own home because these morons did not finish their job'.
His wife and kids are in Split, in the reception centre.
- Your head is still on your shoulders, that's what counts - photographer Silvano consoles him.
- Yes, that's true. We'll build a new house. To your health!
The Neretva River roars, playing around the remains of the Customs and Tito's bridge. The city with thirteen bridges remained with just one, the most famous, built in the distant 1566. When the going gets tough, smaller cars traverse it. Because, the nearest bridge to the other bank of Neretva is one in Metkovic. And it is 'just' some 35 km to the south.