CHAPTER VIII

FOR reasons of security, it behoves us to be careful and not disclose too much detail of the actual dispositions of Partisan forces and their manner of operation. A fuller account must of necessity be postponed until a more appropriate time.

Deep in the wooded hills, on that beautiful June day when we arrived at Slovenian Headquarters, we beheld another colony of hutments similar to that which we had left behind in Croatia. But with a difference. The huts at Slovenian Headquarters were noticeably smaller and more carefully concealed by the dense trees. We had also observed that our approach to Headquarters was so ill-defined that even our guide had difficulty in keeping his direction. The noisy sound of circular saw, anvil and engines, to which our ears had become so accustomed in Croatia, was missing. Only an occasional voice was heard in speech or song. All was quiet in our new hide-out.

As we drew nigh to one of the huts we were met by a tall, thin-looking Partisan of dark complexion, prominent forehead, dressed in neat-fitting uniform and polished jack-boots. That was Commandant Matya. He welcomed us and invited us into his hut.

As we entered, a small gentleman of perhaps thirty-five, with fair hair and intelligent features, dressed in grey uniform and jack-boots, arose from a long centre table and approached us. He was introduced as Commissar Kraigher. The young lady who had been seated opposite him at a typewriter was his chief secretary, Tvarisica Sveta.

Relieved immediately of our kit, we settled ourselves on two of the five bunks which were spaced along the walls of the hut, and there spent the next hour or so in friendly conversation, recounting our experiences in Croatla and the journey north to Slovenia.

Almost at once we were made to feel at home. The warm hospitality accorded us was expressed in the insistence of the Commandant and Commissar that we should share their hut until other arrangements could be made. It became our headquarters for the next few weeks.

It was exceedingly pleasant in the woods during those early summer days, and, with the amenities which Partisans were so expert in providing, life was altogether enjoyable. Our hut, which was about all that could be desired in living quarters, was typical of Partisan ingenuity. Not more than eighteen feet long by fourteen wide, built of rough boards and tar paper, it had windows on three sides and a red tile roof. Within, it had a centre table, with the usual seats attached to the legs, and a small iron stove near the end door. The bunks which were present on the day of our arrival very quietly gave place to five homely sofas soon afterward. The hut served as an office and living quarters for the Commandant, Commissar, Tv. Sveta and ourselves. It was not even necessary for us to leave our hut for meals. They were brought to us from the central kitchen by Tovaris Jankel, whose duty it was to look after the personal requirements of the Commandant and Commissar.

There was little that one could wish for that we did not have. Items of clothing, shirts and socks; personal accessories, razors, brushes, soap, towels, even svreetmeats, were always available — it was necessary merely to ask the Intendant. Though such things would very likely bear Italian or German labels, as they were obtained from some occupied town or city not far away.

Within a very short time after our arrival we had visited most departments and met many heads and members of the general staff. We had also moved about sufficiently to form some idea of what the general conditions were in Slovenia. One of our earliest impressions was that, while the Partisans in Slovenia were very well organised, and consisted of several divisions, the general situation in a military sense was not quite so advanced as it was in Croatia. There was not the same freedom to move about. The areas that were liberated were smaller and more isolated than they were in Croatia. The Partisans were, in other words, living closer to the enemy. This was apparent, as we have already suggested, by the care which was taken to observe all rules of security and secrecy.

We had become so used to the efficiency of Partisan organisation wherever we went, it aroused little or no astonishment in our minds to find at Slovenian Headquarters almost an exact duplication of what we had found in Croatia, which we have already described.

While the general atmosphere of the camp was intensely secretive, and ever so much quieter than its Croatian counterpart, it only re-quired closer observation to see that the Slovenian Headquarters was equally busy. It was the central authority of a large Partisan Army which was scattered all over Slovenia, from the Adriatic Sea to the border of Hungary, and from the boundary of Croatia to the German and Austrian frontiers. The activity observed there reflected the effort which the people of that country were making for freedom. The busy departments in their several huts, their staffs of girls and men working late hours; the inter-visiting; staff horses waiting at the doors; couriers, the nerve system of the Freedom Movement, arriving and departing every few minutes; workshops busy with repairs; pack mules arriving with stores and provisions at night; the never-ceasing challenge of sentry and patrol; all attested to the responsibility and importance of that Headquarters.

The general situation in Slovenia in the political sense compared very favourably with that which we had found in Croatia. The Freedom Front was built on identical principles, and unity of purpose and action was being realised in achievement as it was in Croatia. Local committees were functioning in all free areas, and delegates from these areas were meeting in common assembly from time to time, out of which the people's executive had evolved in just the same way as it did in Croatia. But whereas in Croatia the people's executive was called the Anti-Fascist Committee for the Territorial Liberation of Croatia, in Slovenia it was called Izvrani Odbor (Executive Committee).

It was proposed by Commissar Kraigher one day that we should pay a visit to the members of the Izvrani Odbor, the senior political authority in Slovenia. The day was very wet, but weather seldom affected Partisan routine. Immediately after lunch we set out on what seemed to be no path at all, but yet which was evidently a familiar route to the Commissar. Whether he observed the moss on the tree trunks or knew some secret method of maintaining direction through a mist-laden wood (he was a chemical engineer by profession) we never learned. He brought us to a stop on the lip of a small wooded depression, and there at the bottom, treed over and scarcely discernible, was an entrance. On closer examination we became aware of a hut standing before us.

Saturated to the skin, we entered, and found ourselves in a large room with tiered bunks, windows on two sides, a skylight, and, seated at tables, with typewriters and papers before them, were three women and two men.

One of the women we recognised at once. It was Dana, who had accompanied us from Croatia. The other two were, as we subse-quently learned, Tida, a secretary, who had served long as a Partisan, and Marietta, the heroic wife of Secretary Kidric. A man, tall and rugged, with a seasoned but kind face, was introduced as "Luka." The other, not so tall or rugged, but of quick, intelligent expression and an easy, polite manner, was Tv. Kidric, secretary of the Izvrani Odbor.

We spent only a few minutes there, and were taken a short distance away to another well-concealed hut, which was almost full of people. We removed our wet capes in the small lobby and turned to meet our new friends, the members of the Izvrani Odbor.

The President of that executive, Tv. Joseph Vidmar, greeted us. His fluent English made that welcome the warmer. We were glad to see Dr. Kardelj again. We then met each and everybody present, and soon became engaged in lively and friendly conversation.

In an atmosphere closely resembling that of a college reunion, the twenty or more present settled on the forms which were nailed to the legs of the tables and enjoyed a four-course dinner of soup, cold ham, steak and potatoes, jam turnover, bread and cheese. Slovenian wine was served in lieu of water, which was not supposed to be safe to drink.

Questions were asked, such as: "Why do the Allies not understand us?" "Why have we been fighting for over two years for freedom and democracy without Allied notice being taken of us?" "Have you come to help us now?" Those questions struck deep. They were proffered by an honest, fearless people, and they demanded bold answering. Speeches followed, and after almost three hours of friendly intercourse, we returned to our headquarters.

The welcome accorded us by those interesting and interested men and women was one of genuine hospitality and warm friendship.

There in the Slovenian woods, living in huts, the people's representatives were directing the efforts of the Freedom Front. Men and women, representing all classes of people and shades of political thought, united and resolved together to liberate their country. They had learned to trust one another in the belief that unity and unity alone could achieve victory, and were prepared to make any sacrifice that their people might be free.

Among them were two doctors of medicine, a doctor of law, a doctor of economics, a literary critic of international repute, a mechanical engineer, a farmer, an artist, a judge, a returned soldier, an educationist, a civil servant, a professor of history, an ex-Cabinet Minister, an electrical engineer, and others. Four or five of them were well over fifty years old. A few of them had been wounded. Several had lost their families and loved ones. Many of them had the horrible thought that their relatives or loved ones, who were yet living in occupied areas, might be found and shot. Yet all were more concerned about the freedom of their country and fellow-men than of their own lot. They were the men whom the people of Free Jugoslavia had elected to lead them.

It was with these people that we were to live during the next nine months, whose experiences it became our privilege to share and whose confidence we prized. We ate and slept with them. We sat with them in council, we fought with them. We lay concealed with them for ten days underground when they were hunted by enemy tanks, which were heard above. We saw them in every possible circumstances, in the flush of victory, when large areas of their country suddenly became free; we saw them when enemy forces appeared to be overwhelming; yet whatever the circumstances were, we found them to be always the same. They were men and women of the loftiest character and ideas; truthful, fearless, humble, God-fearing. Their unity, their faith and trust in one another, their deep-rooted love for freedom and democracy, their faith in their people and in the cause for which they fought, never weakened. Such were the qualities that we found in the men and women whom we met that rainy day in their sanctuary in the Slovenian woods. Truly a brave, free people beget worthy leaders.

As we have already intimated, the military situation in Slovenia was not quite so advanced as that in Croatia. Free areas, though many in number (there were forty in all), and scattered all over the State, were for the most part small. Not one of them was comparable in size to the large consolidated area which we had found in Croatia. While it was not possible to use motor vehicles, many of the free areas were large enough to admit the use of horses and wagons, even in daylight, without fear of enemy molestation.

The free areas seen on the map, scattered as they were, appeared as a number of islands. The areas between them were held by the Italians in that part of Slovenia, south of the Sava River, and by the Germans in the part north of the river. Free areas were quite isolated, and they indicated impressively the effort made by the local inhabitants to free themselves. The tendency was, of course, for these free areas to join up with each other, which they invariably did as their strength grew.

The only communication between free areas was at night, when couriers would pass regularly from one to the other on prescribed routes. Other movements from area to area were possible only when accompanied by armed escort. Such movements, though obviously dangerous, were rarely intercepted or prevented by the enemy.

As it was in Croatia, so in Slovenia, the enemy everywhere was on the defensive. His efforts were spent in trying to keep the few lines of railway and the principal roads open for his own use. This he was able to do only by means of forts built of stone and concrete and spaced at very short intervals along them. An elaborate system indeed, and a most extravagant defence in terms of man-power. Several Italian divisions were held by the Partisans in this manner.

But, even so, the Partisans could wreck trains, block roads and prejudice enemy movements at will. They were ever on the offensive, and their incessant activity not only cost the enemy dearly in casualties and loss of equipment, but it so affected the Italian that his morale had become very low. The Italians in Jugoslavia, because of their dread of the Partisans, never ventured from their forts at night, and only by day when they were accompanied by tanks and armoured vehicles.

In the north and west sections of Slovenia the Partisans had the Germans to contend with. They were considered to be a tougher problem than the Italians, but were by no means unmanageable. Free areas in that part of Slovenia were slower in developing and always encountered stronger resistance. But whenever the Partisans had anything like parity in arms, they invariably ousted the Germans.

It is only possible to give the reader a vague idea of the strength of the Partisan forces in Jugoslavia at that time. Several corps had already been formed under experienced, efficient and capable commands. New divisions were being organised continually as volunteers became available from ever-expanding free areas. It is interesting to recall that just before we left Croatia the Commandant there requested sufficient battle-dress and equipment to supply five divisions of his reserve troops. Slovenia, likewise, had great need of like supplies for many divisions.

In Slovenia we found the people to be very similar to the Croatians, and their manner of living was little different. In fact, apart from seeing new faces and meeting new friends, we were not in the least conscious of any change in our manner of living, in our thinking or in the reactions of people whom we met from day to day. It was very difficult to realise that we were not still in Croatia.. The differences between the Croat and Slovene were less pronounced, we thought, than those between an Englishman and a Scotsman. Two or three of the more outstanding characteristics of the Slovene were interesting, however, and worthy of note in passing.

The Slovenian tongue, stronger than a mere dialect in its relation to Serbo-Croat, was the language of a million-and-a-half people, who cherished it with as much pride and natural jealousy as the Scot cherished the Gaelic! But, lest that sentiment be misconstrued, we would make it clear that the persistent use of their own tongue was a cultural rather than a national pride. No difference of language would, or in our opinion could, prejudice the will to unity which we found so strong in both Croat and Slovene. They were Jugoslavian in feeling, outlook and united effort. Both Slovene and Croat readily equipped themselves with a knowledge of the common tongue whenever opportunity and occasion afforded.

The Slovene had his characteristic song. One had only to hear Slovenian song resound through the evening forest to appreciate its deep, rich quality and delightful melody. It was expressive of the soul of an heroic people. It appeared to be as characteristic of the nature of ttie Slovene to express itself in song and verse as it was in the case of the early Greek and Roman. Their innate love of freedom and independence seemed to inspire their song. Wherever the people of that country were assembled, and not infrequently when alone at their work, song was heard.

We had heard much about the SIovene before meeting him con-cerning his skill as a producer of grapes and of his delight in the fruits of his labour. It was true that large sections of Slovenia were given to vineyards, and the quality of grapes produced was excellent. But as grapes won't keep for ever, the practice was to preserve the juice and to share it among the neighbours.

The vineyard as we found it in Slovenia was an institution of national importance, and no doubt had a strong influence upon the character of the people of that country, especially in the districts of Bela Krajna and the Starjerska. An account of a most unusual experience may possibly explain better what we mean.

It was when we were living in one of the larger free areas in Slovenia that the farmer and his wife with whom we were staying invited us to accompany them to their vineyard, four or five kilometres away. It was a quiet sort of day, and as we knew nothing about husbandry we went along.

It was a Saturday afternoon in mid-winter, with almost a metre of snow upon the ground. The gentleman, in his Sunday best, carried a rucksack filled with litre flasks on his back, a five^litre hooped oak barrel by a wire handle in one hand, and an alder stick which served as a cane in the other. The lady, likewise Sunday clad, carried a rucksack of litre flasks on her back.

We followed tandem a poorly broken track in the snow through the woods until we came to the top of a clear mountain slope over-looking a very extensive valley. We tapped at the window of a farmhouse, which was immediately raised, greetings were exchanged, and three immense iron keys were handed to our host.

We continued a hundred yards or so down the slope and stopped at the door of a very small stone and plaster building consisting of one storey and a basement, which the slope afforded.

One of the keys released the lock, and within we found two rooms. The outer a workroom, with a huge block press operated by a wooden screw, and a large vat filled with mash in the process of fermenting. In the wall facing us was the fire-box of the pec (heater).

In the inner room there was a large wooden bedstead, with white sheets and blankets carefully spread, a cherry top table with attached seats on two sides, and a pec. A crucifix and a picture of Christ trimmed with bits of spruce hung in the corner over the table. A calendar from Cobalt, Ontario, and a panoramic view of a Colorado mine adorned the wall. It was about four o'clock.

A fire was laid on. The gentleman disappeared with two of the keys and a litre flask. We heard a gurgling sound in the basement, followed by his reappearance with a flagon of amber-coloured wine.

From the table drawer three long ham sausages, such as are only to be found in Slovenia, were placed before us. We ate and sipped wine.

Four visitors — an elderly Iady, a gentleman of sixty, and two young lads with Partisan stars on their caps — called in at different times during the next two hours. They were all friends, sociable, interesting folk. They took from half an hour to an hour to eat a few slices of sausage and to sip a glass (two gills) of wine. The Partisan lads were not known to our host; the other two were old friends. The elderly lady wept during her visit. She was the lone survivor of a family who had perished at the hands of the Italians. The gentleman of sixty had two sons serving with the Partisans. He, with the help of his wife and daughter, was looking after the farm. The Partisans took only one glass of wme each, shared the butt of a cigarette, chatted a while and moved on. It was an open house to all who passed by.

It was ever the custom in Slovenia to use but one glass on such occasions. Each person, on taking a swallow or two, would fill up the glass and place it in front of the person beside him. When the litre flask became empty another visit was made to the basement. Perhaps in three hours seven or eight persons would empty two flasks of light wine. But during those three hours there was a rich, honest fraternity that lived in the hearts and minds of all.

It was our intention to return to our billet before dark, but at six o'clock, when we suggested leaving for home, our host pressed us to remain all night and return with them on the morrow, as it was their custom to attend early Mass at the local church. They explained how we could sleep on the forms of the table. We decided to do so.

About eight o'clock that evening, after a supper of boiled ham and cabbage, it became bed-time. The only light was the weak flame of a carbide lamp, and it had to be used sparingly.

Most innocently and naturally, our hostess suggested that we had better sleep on her one side and her husband on the other on the big bed. The husband agreed. Whatever it was that induced us, despite our shyness, to comply with that innocent suggestion, we knew not.

They arose at five in the morning, attended church two kilometres away, and joined us again at ten o'clock.

Five other visitors dropped in between that hour and two o'clock, at which time we set out for home with flasks and barrel full. The keys were left at the neighbour's as we passed.

Along that sunny mountainside, forests of poles were seen, interrupted only by hundreds of tiny buildings such as the one we visited. Farmers living in less sunny areas frequented their vineyards and church weekly.

Perhaps Slovenians had learned to appreciate the fruits of their labour.