Admit it, you don’t have a clue where Syria is. You couldn’t even find it on a map. Neither could I. Syria is a far away land where Americans are hunting Assad, the way they were hunting down Gaddafi.

You don’t know who Assad is? He is the beast that devours the living children of Syrian rebels. There is still a difference between Gaddafi and Assad, a big one. Assad is more resilient than his torn to pieces, dead, colleague.

That is why, Americans, the eternal fighters for democracy and peace, can’t get him, slice him open, impale him or tighten a thick noose around his tiny neck.

No matter how much weaponry the “rebels” are getting delivered, unknown friends are delivering as much to Assad. Russians? Chinese? Even though not so long ago Kissinger told Obama to give up on Syria because “Syria has always been Russian” the black puppet, whiter than the biggest American supremacist cannot leave it alone.

The elections are coming, Americans love to see a though guy in the saddle, even if he is black. This whole banal story shouldn’t concern us Croatian men and women much.

We weren’t bothered by the trouble in Libya, Tunisia, Afghanistan, Yemen, Iraq, Gaza… Who gives a fuck about those people killed somewhere out there in the middle of nowhere. We don’t care what Americans and Israelis do in Gaza, it is not our children that are dying there in the mud and stench, in between the wires. We have won the war, thank you for asking, the chetnics don’t live here anymore, and we are on our soil, by ourselves.

And yes, we are a democratic country. We have proven it with acts, not words. Every year, gay people walk freely trough Zagreb, and it is a well-known fact that democracy thrives only where they can walk freely.

Look, if someone told us then, while burying our children who died around Zadar, Dubrovnik and Vukovar, that our atrocious war was just a preamble to a new one, we would have said that they were nuts.

Listen, if someone told us then that children of the children who died would go to war to Syria, we would have told them… nothing, we wouldn’t have said anything, there are all kinds of fools out there. And then, my dear Croatian mothers, we have gotten ourselves another war.

Syria has allegedly bombed Turkey, allegedly killed four or five or maybe even six Turkish people. She has, if she has done so, that is not he point; the uttermost crime is that Turkey is a member of NATO. I am sure you know, anyone who attacks a member of NATO, has attacked NATO. We are a member of NATO, that, I am sure you’ve heard.

Mind you… it is not always so simple. That same Turkey was, not so long ago, carrying down aid to Gaza. They were shoot by Israelis like rabbits. Turkey was then a member of NATO, but NATO didn’t attack Israel. What does Israel have that Syria doesn’t? What doesn’t Israel have that Syria does?

Nevertheless, those Syrians who killed or didn’t kill those Turks attacked Croatia. And our children will, in a few days, weeks or months go to Syria to fight for our people.

War, just like war. We’ve been through all that; we are used to have the bodies of our beloved children delivered to our doorstep. But this war will be somehow different for us Croats.

Not only Croats will die in Syria in the name of democracy. There will be children there from all over the world. I read somewhere what Americans do with the bodies of soldiers killed in Afghanistan. There is a special unit who fills the black bags with the flesh they get in body bags from the battlefield.

Rarely will that body bag, sent to the parents or the wife, contain a whole body. Usually it contains black arms, white legs, a white head a black finger. When they put the bag in the metal coffin, the bag always bends in the middle since there is no spine in it, testified a woman working in that unit.

So, in this war, us mothers and grandmothers will have to bare in mind, when we get sent a body from Syria, that this won’t be the flesh of our child, but 70 odd kilos of God knows whose flesh.

Is this supposed to be comforting? Still, the flesh in the body bag is not our flesh? Or will this incite horror? Where is the flesh of our flesh?

Dear Croatian women and men, German, English, Turkish, French, American… who could count them all, mothers are used to NATO delivering their flesh in a metal box. And never ask too many questions.

So Croatians, quickly, go buy a grave! So that NATO flesh has somewhere to rest in peace.

Translation by Ida Popovski

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