“Officer told us to take a piece of paper from the cigarette package and write the name”, Blerim Latifi shares his confession to Kosar

The night before this battle began, he remembered the former soldier of KLA, Blerim Latifi, who told of the preparations that had been made and instructions to write their names on a piece of paper and to put them in his pocket to identify them if they were killed.

Latif indicated that the brigade officer had once again asked if they were sure to participate in this battle, since the war was voluntary. He said none of the soldiers backed off and that everyone went to battle.

Full Posting:

The night before we entered the front of Kostunica, we stayed in the village of Padesh, which was attached to the border area. We spent the night in some tents that were set up behind our brigade. Of course, neither of us had any sleep in our eyes that, because of our emotions, as much as because of the great noise NATO aircraft flying over Kosovo.
In the morning we lined up for the departure. A brigade officer appeared before us, who was assigned to give us his final instructions before entering the war. The shocking part of his guide speech had left him for good. He said:

Take a piece of the cigarette pack and write it down on your last name, your native country and put it in your right pocket of uniform, because if it comes down to you, we need to know your identity.

His words struck us like lightning. They warned us that we were entering a battle where, of course, one of us would be killed anyway if not all of us.

The officer saw that we were yellow in the face and again said: You have 10 minutes to think. Whoever doesn't feel ready for war, let him say it now. We release and cure anyone; this is a volunteer fight, we force no one.

A complete silence covered our entire unit. When he saw that none of us had wavered in our quest to enter the war, the officer signalled to a soldier who had taken the duty to send us to the front line.

Go ahead, he told him.

And as we were loading our bags on our back, he turned to us and said,

Nice shot, boys. White-saw!

On the way, we started discussing why the officer told us to put the piece of paper with our names in our right pocket rather than the left. Then someone said a bitter joke:

Because the enemy seeks to strike at our heart, and that's where the blood breaks down.

After I had written my name and my homeland on that piece of paper, every time I touched it in my right pocket where I had put it, I remembered scenes by the General of the Dead Army when the bodies of the slain soldiers were exhumed and metal parts of their skeletons were found with their names written on it.

The day the war ended, I had that piece of paper torn up, as if to tell death I had triumphed over it.

In time, the memories of us alive will fade; eternal will remain only the name and memory of our 114 friends who fell into the hills of Koshara.