send them arms and supplies so they could liberate their people. Though the Americans listened patiently, they kept waiting to hear some reference to how the partisans were going to help them get to the coast, but it never came.
Stefa finished the lecture by teaching the Americans the partisan salute, a clenched right-handed fist touching the right side of the forehead and accompanied by the phrase Vdekje Fashizmit, which meant “Death to Fascism.” They learned the proper response, which included the same salute followed by the words Liri Popullit, or “Freedom to the People.” The rival BK, of which the Americans were still unaware, also had a slogan: Shqipëria Shqiptarëvet, or “Albania for the Albanians,” to which the proper reply was Vdekje Tradhëtarëvet, or “Death to the Traitors,” meaning the partisans. When the speech finally ended, Thrasher and Baggs asked Stefa what they all wanted to know, but the Americans didn’t receive the answer they’d hoped for. Stefa simply replied that he had to “make preparations,” a refrain they’d hear from him often. In the meantime, he told them, the Americans would see Berat.
For the next two days, while Shumway recuperated in the hotel, spending some of his time taking pictures of a horse-drawn taxi on the street or scenic views from the rooftop with the little bit of film he had left in his camera, the other Americans were paraded around Berat with Stefa in an old orange Fiat truck. At many of the places they saw—the martyrs’ cemetery, the castle towering over the town, a hall where partisans performed a play, and local partisan headquarters—they heard more speeches about the virtues of the partisan movement, which were often feverishly accompanied by the salute they were expected to return. Though they knew Stefa was likely following orders, the Americans were growing impatient with the endless propaganda they heard, but they were helpless to do anything about it.
At night, they were once again parceled out into small groups to various homes or to the hotel. Most were sent to a different house each night. At one of the houses Jens stayed in, her English-speaking host told her that some of the people the Germans had taken away had never come back. Those left behind had hidden or buried any items of value to prevent them from getting into German hands.
On their third night in town, the Americans went back to the hall where they had watched the partisans perform and expected to hear more propaganda. Instead, a man played an accordion for their enjoyment before the partisans showed the Americans an Italian movie.
Though the conditions and the food in Berat were far better than what they’d had in the villages, several of the Americans were starting to suffer from severe diarrhea, or, as many in the military called it, “the GIs.” Also of great concern to the Americans was what they had noticed while being driven around town. The photographer who had snapped their pictures as they entered Berat had posted half a dozen photos of the uniformed Americans in the window of his shop on the main street for all who passed by to see.
Hayes and Owen awoke early on their fourth morning in Berat to the sound of gunfire. They’d heard it sporadically since they’d arrived in the town, and it was usually a partisan firing off a few rounds for entertainment. But when their host and his teenage son came racing into their room looking worried, the two medics knew there was trouble. The man said something to his son in Albanian, and the teenager dashed out of the room. Then the man turned to the Americans and said, “It is not good. Get your clothes on.”
Hayes and Owen rushed to put on their uniforms, which they’d taken off the night before when they were given clean bedding. As Hayes laced up his shoes, the son returned and spoke to his father again in Albanian. Hayes had heard the sound of the front door opening and closing and figured the teenager had gone
Stefa finished the lecture by teaching the Americans the partisan salute, a clenched right-handed fist touching the right side of the forehead and accompanied by the phrase Vdekje Fashizmit, which meant “Death to Fascism.” They learned the proper response, which included the same salute followed by the words Liri Popullit, or “Freedom to the People.” The rival BK, of which the Americans were still unaware, also had a slogan: Shqipëria Shqiptarëvet, or “Albania for the Albanians,” to which the proper reply was Vdekje Tradhëtarëvet, or “Death to the Traitors,” meaning the partisans. When the speech finally ended, Thrasher and Baggs asked Stefa what they all wanted to know, but the Americans didn’t receive the answer they’d hoped for. Stefa simply replied that he had to “make preparations,” a refrain they’d hear from him often. In the meantime, he told them, the Americans would see Berat.
For the next two days, while Shumway recuperated in the hotel, spending some of his time taking pictures of a horse-drawn taxi on the street or scenic views from the rooftop with the little bit of film he had left in his camera, the other Americans were paraded around Berat with Stefa in an old orange Fiat truck. At many of the places they saw—the martyrs’ cemetery, the castle towering over the town, a hall where partisans performed a play, and local partisan headquarters—they heard more speeches about the virtues of the partisan movement, which were often feverishly accompanied by the salute they were expected to return. Though they knew Stefa was likely following orders, the Americans were growing impatient with the endless propaganda they heard, but they were helpless to do anything about it.
At night, they were once again parceled out into small groups to various homes or to the hotel. Most were sent to a different house each night. At one of the houses Jens stayed in, her English-speaking host told her that some of the people the Germans had taken away had never come back. Those left behind had hidden or buried any items of value to prevent them from getting into German hands.
On their third night in town, the Americans went back to the hall where they had watched the partisans perform and expected to hear more propaganda. Instead, a man played an accordion for their enjoyment before the partisans showed the Americans an Italian movie.
Though the conditions and the food in Berat were far better than what they’d had in the villages, several of the Americans were starting to suffer from severe diarrhea, or, as many in the military called it, “the GIs.” Also of great concern to the Americans was what they had noticed while being driven around town. The photographer who had snapped their pictures as they entered Berat had posted half a dozen photos of the uniformed Americans in the window of his shop on the main street for all who passed by to see.
Hayes and Owen awoke early on their fourth morning in Berat to the sound of gunfire. They’d heard it sporadically since they’d arrived in the town, and it was usually a partisan firing off a few rounds for entertainment. But when their host and his teenage son came racing into their room looking worried, the two medics knew there was trouble. The man said something to his son in Albanian, and the teenager dashed out of the room. Then the man turned to the Americans and said, “It is not good. Get your clothes on.”
Hayes and Owen rushed to put on their uniforms, which they’d taken off the night before when they were given clean bedding. As Hayes laced up his shoes, the son returned and spoke to his father again in Albanian. Hayes had heard the sound of the front door opening and closing and figured the teenager had gone
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