THE STOP
Leyla Mumcuoglu
I dedicate this to my mom for sharing her
story with me.
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Table of Contents: Historical Narrative Packet Historical Narrative Afterword About the Author Bibliography
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I was complete silence. The darkness outside was daunting. My sister, Mehves, was snuggled next to me by the driver. The speed of the bus was like a cheetah. We didn’t stop anywhere. I looked straight ahead. The only thing I could see was the road from the buses lights. There were no mobile phones so we couldn’t contact our families. I saw my dad in my mind. I wonder what he was doing. The bus started to slow down. I moved Mehves to the side, wiping sweat off of my forehead. I looked back out the window not being capable of seeing anything. I thought back to Italy. What a great time we had had. Now we are sitting here, getting closer and closer to the Yugoslavian war zone.
I heard the bus driver press the breaks. We came to a sudden halt. The lights were gleaming onto an immense grey fence. I looked back at my mom and her face was comforting. The bus doors opened. My eyes were expecting for something to happen. There were loud footsteps ascending the steps. Two armed men came inside with Yugoslavian Army uniforms and walked on the bus. They didn’t bother to look at any of the front rows and serenely but in a scramble went straight towards the back of the bus. I tried to see outside but it was very somber. They went up to the Turkish couple sitting at the back.
“Passports!” One of them commanded. The woman was looking at the soldier in dismay. She couldn’t move. Her husband's face was straight. “Passports!” the soldier demanded again. The women reached into her bag and grabbed two Turkish passports. The soldier opened one of them. He scanned through every page looking, observing. The second soldier grabbed the passport out of his partner’s hands and studied every page. He finally gave it back to the women and took the second passport. They did the exact same procedure. The soldiers moved one more row ahead. My heart rate was increasing as the soldiers took a step closer to us. While the first soldier was examining another woman's passport three more soldiers bolted into the bus.
“Pick up the pace!” one of them shouted. They were getting close, fast. One of the soldiers skipped a few rows and headed straight to my mother’s row. “Passports!” She handed her passport and my grandmother’s to the soldier. The soldier glanced at them and approved. My mom took those two passports back and handed Mehves’s and mine to the soldier. I stared at the soldier, running thoughts in my head. What if he doesn’t approve my passport? What if I get sent off the bus? What will happen to Mehves? The soldier had this weird look on his face like he was unsure. He turned around and handed the two passports to his partner. The soldier took Mehves’s and threw mine on the ground. Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! I’m never going to get back home. He scanned through Mehves’s and handed it back over to my mother.
“This one’s fine. We don’t need to look at the other one. They’re just stupid kids.” The soldier spit on the floor next to my passport and walked to the row behind us. Relief rushed through my body like everything was okay. I quickly picked up my passport and handed it over to my mother. I hugged Mehves tight and closed my eyes. “Hey!” My eyes fluttered open with the hard voice of the soldiers. Mehves and I quickly looked back and there was a woman and man staring at the floor, not looking up. The woman was holding herself tight from not shaking. The soldier handed the two passports to one of his partners. “There’s something wrong with these.” “These two aren’t Turkish. They are from Macedonia.” The woman was about to say something when the soldier interrupted her. “Get up!” “What?” The man asked. “I said get up!” The woman and man slowly got out of their seats and stood up. The soldier pushed the two towards the front and out the bus where heavily armed men were waiting for them.
I heard the woman sobbing into the man’s chest. I looked up at the soldier. He was walking out of the bus in pride with the rest of the soldiers following behind him, stomping their feet as hard and powerful as they could. The bus doors slowly shut and I could hear the engine roaring. We were back on the road, driving without any interruptions. We hadn’t went to the bathroom and eaten for two days. I asked my mom what would happen to those two people. Were they going to die? Are they going to send them off to prison? “They will find a way to get back to Turkey. Maybe by trucks. It will be a long and dangerous journey for those two.” I smiled at my mom thinking of the couple and went back to sit next to my sister. Few more hours of driving and we were entering the borders of Turkey. The smile on my face wouldn’t go away. I hugged my sister as tight as I could. My mom was right. The two Macedonians had hitchhiked a truck and took a lengthy trip back to Turkey. That road trip may have been peaceful without hearing bombs go off and gunshots blasting everywhere or it could’ve been the way that it was. Being in the middle of the war zone showed me how treasured life is. You don’t know what’s going to happen and when it’s going to happen. You just wait.
Afterword Bosnia was divided into three parts. The Croats, the Muslims and the Bosnian Serbs. In 1992 Bosnia and Herzegovina declared independence. Later that year the Bosnian Serbs began their siege on Sarajevo. In 1993 the Croats and the Muslims began fighting over the parts of Bosnia that weren’t already taken by the Bosnian Serbs. In 1994 a mortar exploded in a crowded market in Sarajevo where 68 people were killed. NATO joined the war and shot down four Serbian aircrafts over Bosnia. Muslims and Croats signed a peace deal drawn up by the United States. In 1995 Bosnian Serbs and Muslims agreed on a peace deal. It lasted for about four months. Serb forces refused to move heavy weapons from Sarajevo and NATO launched an aircraft on Serbs. Serbs took hold of Srebrenica and killed 8,000 Srebrenican men and boys. Serbs began attacking the Muslims. Leaders of Bosnia, Serbia and Croatia agreed on a peace deal. NATO took over peacekeeping duties from the UN.
About the Author
Leyla Mumcuoglu was born in September 9th 2003, New York, USA. She has lived in Istanbul for her whole life and still is with her mom and dad. Leyla loves playing sports, especially basketball. Leyla enjoys spending time with her friends, laughing and listening to music. She is a student at Istanbul International Community School.
Bibliogrpahy “19921995: BOSNIA.” Holocaust Memorial Day Trust, Follett Destiny, hmd.org.uk/genocides/bosnia. Andersen, Odd. “A Young Boy Walking in Front of Tank.” Gettyimages, www.gettyimages.com/detail/newsphoto/youngboywalkspastjanuary1996a makeshiftusarmybasenewsphoto/134244632#youngboywalkspastjanuary 1996amakeshiftusarmybaseoutsidepictureid134244632. “Bosnia and Herzegovina.” Encyclopedia Brtiannica , school.eb.co.uk/levels/intermediate/article/273301. “The Bosnian War.” Mtholyoke, www.mtholyoke.edu/~bonne20s/causes.html. “Bosnian War.” Mtholyoke, www.mtholyoke.edu/~bonne20s/majorbattlesmaps.html. “Countries of the European Union.” Free World Maps, www.freeworldmaps.net/printable/europe/. Jones, Jon. “War in Yugoslavia.” Gettyimages, www.gettyimages.com/license/589301732. “NATO.” Unesco, Follet Destiny, www.unesco.org/archives/sio/eng/presentation_print.php?idorg=1026. Stoddart, Tom. “Women of Sarajevo.” Gettyimages, www.gettyimages.com/license/555364219. “The War in Bosnia, 19921995.” Office of the Historian, Follet Destiny, history.state.gov/milestones/19932000/bosnia. “Why Did the Bosnian War Happen?” Reference, www.reference.com/history/did bosnianwarhappen7a6821577437853c#.