Memories of Kosovo01

8/6/2019 Memories of Kosovo01

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A Kosovo RotaryWing Air Unit

(KRWAU) CH-146Griffon Helicopter

comes in from patrolduties to land at the

unit's camp, "theCrow's Nest, ..at

Glogovac, Kosovo.s I awaken o my alarm clock, I can see mybreath in the dark, stale air. Our generator

we start the engines, and it will take almost 20 minutes to warm up all the systems. As aircraft commander, Stephane s responsible for both the aircraand for directing the mission. As first pilot and thone who will be doing most of the flying, I had bettbe on the ball today: We'll be operating in a threzone; and there is no room for complacency.

At 8:15 a.m. we land at the Finnish battaliocamp near Lipjan, some 10 miles south of Pristinand pick up four special econnaissancesoldiers. Ofirst mission is to provide an eye-in-the-sky and tcover for a series of house raids being conducted Finnish troops with dogs and armoured vehicleThe soldiers in the back of our aircraft, equippewith radios, will monitor the scene from above acoordinate the effort.

The Finns have intelligence reports that sevehouses in a particular Albanian village are harbouing arms and drugs. An hour into the raids, thehas been some resistance and several arrests habeen made. By 10:00 a.m. we are back at the Candian camp, refueling our aircraft "hot" -with thengines running and the crew strapped in and rea

in the middle of January in the Yugoslavian/U.N.governed province of Kosovo, and according to mythermometer it is eight degrees Celsius (46 Fahren-heit) inside our six-man shelter. I have to get mov-ing; I have three missions today, and the firstbriefing commences at 7:00 a.m. Walking outside at6:30 to load my survival gear into the aircraft, I findthe flight engineer, MCpl Alain Bilodeau, brushingthe snow off our aircraft, one of eight CanadianForces CH-146 Griffon helicopters supporting theNATO peacekeeping mission here. A 1990s versionof the Vietnam-era UH-1 Huey, the Bell HelicopterTextron Canada model 412CF s a tactical utility heli-copter, with twin engines

Outside it is below freezing, and over a foot ofsnow has fallen overnight. By 7:00 a.m., the aircraftcommander, Capt Stephane Roux, and I havechecked the weather, had our intelligence briefing,and planned the mission. We all look tired -no oneslept well last night with the heat off. At 7:30 a.m.

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48,000 troops from more than 30 nations involvedin the Kosovo Force, or KFOR. KFOR is the UnitedNations-mandated, NATO-led peacekeeping missionthat began on June 12th 1999, after the bombingcampaign against Serb paramilitary forces ended. InMarch 1999 I told my mother that I would be senton military duties in the Balkans. It was the kind ofthing no mother wants to hear, especially not mymother, who spent her teen years in London duringthe German bombing. On Dec18th 1999, I ~!rivedin the Canadian camp at Donja Koretica, or DK, justa 30-minute drive west of Pristina, along with mysquadron, 430 Escadron Tacfiq~e d'Helicopfere,from Quebec City. Our unit here carries the nameKRWAU, pronounced "crow," for Kosovo RotaryWing Aviation Unit, a coincidental reminder of theever-present blackbirds that infest our hangar. Weare crows among the blackbirds.

The Griffon I will fly can carry up to 15 peopleand has a maximum gross weight of 11,900 pounds.It has armour in both the floor and the crew seats, a7.62 mm automatic rifle mounted 6n the cargo door,and missile warning systems. It can handle instru-ment flight in non-icing conditions, and the avion-ics package includes all the traditional navigationaids, supplemented by GPS satellite navigation forposition data and Doppler radar systems that mea-sure velocity over the ground. With all of the extraequipment we carry, the empty weight of the heli-copter is relatively high -often in the neighborhoodof 9,000 pounds. Fuel for 90 minutes of flight, plusa reserve, adds 1,400 pounds. That leaves room for apayload of 1,500 pounds, which means that we can

Captains Paddy of the 31 ArmourEngineer Sqn ({and Ben Cattermof the ScottishDragoons compatheir map using visual reference flying in a CH-14Griffon from 430currently based Camp DK in Kos

to go. Within 30 minutes we are airborne again andback over the scene of the raids.

After another hour-and-a-half the raids are com-pleted. Several assault rifles and some illegal. drugsare seized, and a few people are taken into custody.In the backyard of one Albanian house, the Finnsfind several graves. We can only speculate about thebodies; the conclusions will be left to the UnitedNations investigators, who will arrive later. There aremany graves in Kosovo.

Less than three miles northwest of the city ofPristina, on a ridge overlooking the town and abroad plain that sweeps beyond it, stands a simplebrown monument about 100 feet tall. It dominatesthe landscape,and although it offers a natural visu-al checkpoint, we avoid flying near it because of whatit symbolizes. Th~monolith commemorates an epicbattle fought.on June 28th, 1389, when a Turkisharmy under Sultan Murad I delivered a crushingdefeat o Serbian forces led by Prince Lazar, then leftthe bodies to be picked at by carrion birds. Histori-cal records suggest that as many as 70,000 peopledied during this one day battle. Serbs call this placethe "Field of Blackbirds", and it is said that the soulof the Serbian nation resides here.

In the spring of 1987, Slobodan Milosevic, thenthe Serbian Communist party leader, came to Koso-vo. Before an attentive crowd made up mostly ofSerbs resentful over treatment by local Albanians,stated, "Nobody, either now or in the future, has theright to beat you." With those words, Milosevicaroused Serbian nationalism and hatred for theother ethnic groups in the crumbling nation statesof Yugoslavia, thereby consolidating his hold onpower. By the early 1990s,ethnic warfare had devas-tated this Balkan region.

To the west of the monument, at Obilic, lies acoal-burning electrical plant. When the winds arefrom the north, we can see the brown swath in thesnow extending for miles beneath the acrid plumethat emanates from the plant's smokestacks. Justsouth of Obilic lies the town of Kosovo Polje (poljeis Serbian for "field"), which is a suburb of Pristina.For me, Kosovo Polje is a microcosm of Kosovo theprovince. It is one of the few remaining settlementsin which Serbs, Albanians, and Gypsies still livetogether. But "living together" is not really accurate:In the months that I have been here, scarcely a dayhas passed that a house has not been set on fire.

Last year, in the spring of 1999, I volunteered tojoin a Canadian Forces contingent that would helpkeep the peace in Kosovo. I was just one of about

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Captain Jonathan Knaulat the controls of his

Griffon helicopteroverflying the AlbanianAlps, June 1 t 2000.

A Canadian ForcesCH-146 Griffonhelicopter from 430

Tactical Helicopter Sqnflies over some of the

20.000 ethnic AlbanianKosovars involved in

a protest march toMitrovica during a

surveillance mission inthe area. More than 50Canadian KFOR troopsare presently detached

from their home baseof Donja Koretica -near Pristina -to assist

other KFOR troops inmaintaining stability and

order in this regionof Kosovo.

typically carry a maximum of only five passengers.Shutting down the helicopter at camp DK at

~~:OO oon, I can feel the cramps in my legs as Iclamberout of the cockpit.Armouredseats re madefor protection, not for comfort. The crewand I havebeenstrapped n for more than four hours, and weare eager o stretchand eatsome unch. There s notmuch ime aswe still have wo more missionsbeforeour day s over.Shortly before 1:30 p.m. we land on the Kosovoside of Gate3, one of the main border of crossingsinto Serbia,guardedby both British and Canadiansoldiers. Here we pick up a British lieutenant, twosoldiers,and an Albanian nterpreter. For the nexthour we patrol along he borderof Serbia ooking orany signs of the Serbianspecialpolice. NATOestab-lished a buffer zone on the Serbianside of the bor-der within which only Serbian border police areallowed.Any other Serbianarmed orcesare prohib-ited from entering.The terrain here s deceiving:very mountainous

and serene. To the untrained eye it appears tranquil,with barren, high, windswept hilltops, few inhabi-tants, and not much activity. But we are not the onlyones patrolling here; we can hear Czech groundreconnaissance eams on the radio. Day or night, nomatter what the weather, the Czechs are on watch,though they are so well concealed you will never seethem. I must remind myself that to the Serbs, KFORis an invading and occupying force in a province thatlegally belongs to Yugoslavia. Most Albanians wel-come NATO, but for those people who still constitu-tionally own Kosovo, Canadians and NATO areanything but welcome.

Our patrol takes 45 minutes and proceeds with-out incident. We are to drop off our passengers at anAlbanian house located on a mountaintop. Small iso-lated dwellings like these can be seen all along theborder. This particular house is situated in a bleaklocation several miles from civilization. The Britishlieutenant tells us that a couple, both in their 70s,live here. They have no automobile or tractor, nomeans of resupplying themselves. The British offi-cer visits frequently with medicine and food.

With the winds gusting, we land near the house.The elderly couple approaches, hunched over andwalking with long canes. They are both dressed inlight clothing, and their only guardian is an emaci-ated German shepherd. We leave the British troopsand interpreter there. They tell us they will maketheir own way back-on foot, we suppose. As ourhelicopter lifts off, a large cloud of snow envelops hepeople on the ground, and they wrap their armsabout their heads and turn their backs toward us. Itis hard to imagine how these two old people havesurvived this long.

At 2:45 p.m. the crew and I arrive back at theCanadian camp for another hot refuel. By 3:30 p.m.we are orbiting over a Serbian funeral that will lastan hour-and-a-half. Our job is to discourage any vio-lence from erupting during the ceremony. 1Wodaysearlier, an Albanian youth gunned down a KosovarSerbian father of four walking home in the late after-noon. The murder was allegedly carried out as oneof many acts of reprisal. Hate comes from all sides.The rotor blades make a l'oud slapping noise as Ibank the helicopter sharply into the wind and mythoughts veer with it. I focus. on the grief that thefamily below must feel. Added to their pain, theymust endure the intrusion of a noisy helicopter asthe life of a father and husband is honoured and theybid him farewell.

Our flying day finishes shortly after 5:00 p.m.

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The author (rightGriffon crew. CaStephane Roux(centre). aircraftcommander; andAlain Bilodeau, fengineer. in Pec.Kosovo, March

Canadian Forces flying rules state that aircrews areallowed a maximum eight hours of flying in oneday-exactly what we have lown. We must have hadat least two false missile-warning alarms every hour.As I lumber out of the cockpit, I feel five poundslighter than I did when I started my day. Stephaneand Alain also emerge slowly and with much effort,the fatigue visible as they stretch their backs. Manyof my muscles are tight, and I am thinking only of ahot meal and bed. Luckily, we are changing to nightflying the following day, and can sleep-in the nextmorning. We don't know it now, but we will need theextra sleep for tomorrow night's mission.

It is snowing again, but at least the generatorkeeps working and there is ample heat in my shel-ter. After a good seven hours of rest, I am up andbusying myself with plans for the upcoming weeklymeeting of the First Kosovar Scouts. Several of usCanadian servicemen and women act as scout lead-ers for a group of 21 Kosovar Albanian boys andgirls, who range in age from 10 to 17. Once a weekfor two hours, the group meets in the Canadiancamp, where we teach the kids everything from ori-enteering and building a camp fire to dental hygieneand landmine awareness.

Working with the scouts is the easiest part of myjob here. The kids are happy, upbeat, full of vigor,and ready to tackle any challenge -not what youwould expect from kids who have just been throughwar and organized persecution. Many of their fathersor brothers are either dead or unaccounted for.

Most of the children have badly decayed teeth.

The dentists n Kosovousually eave otting teeth nrather than pull them, their reasoning: Better tohavea rotten tooth than no tooth at all.,

I take Sheremet,a boy of 14, o see our Canadi-an Forcesdentistoneday.There s no choice but topull one molar that has beencausing him a lot ofpain. Afterward, I drive Sheremethome in one ofour military vehicles. t is a 30-minute drive downa road full of very arge potholes scars of war. Onthe way we passa massgrave ust outside Poklek,Sheremet'svillage. It is the first time that I haveseena massgrave up close. have seenmany fromthe air, but it is very different when you can reachout and touch the graves.This particular grave slocated on a back road behind Poklek n a remotelocation where no one would ever hear the shots.There are dozensof bodies at the site, all exhumedand examinedby UN war crimes nvestigators.Afterthe investigationwas complete, he bodieswere aidto rest in separateburial plots. This was the 11 hmassgrave hat I had seen n four months.

When I arrive at Sheremet's home, his familyimmediately invites me and my driver, Cpl CarloSenegal, nto their home. A single 30-foot.;~quareroom, which Sheremetand sevenmembers of hisfamily share, servesas bedroom, ~uest room, andkitchen.

While we sit and speak o his father in French,Sheremet'solder sister quietly pours coffee rom agolden metal decanter nto small cups that hold nomore than a couple of ounces. But then, with thiscoffee, wo ounces s more than enough. It is clos-

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no room for error, as there is jusenough space in the LZ to fit one helicopter. I confirm the location withStephane and Alain and give an abbrevated briefing on how I will fly theapproach. Stephane gives me some .tipshe has much more experience than I do

Stephane keeps his hands close tothe controls as I make the approach. I lose battery power to my goggles, wibe blind and he"will have to take over. hundred feet high and 300 feet awafrom the landing zone, the approachlooks good, but I start to feel theembrace of the valley around me. Alaihas the back door on my side open anhis head is outside the aircraft. I cahear his voice shiver as he reports ouproximity to obstacles. A soldier in clearing is signalling to us with hishands, but I am barely able to make himout, Stephane continues to coach mthrough the approach. Thirty feet higand 30 feet away from the LZ, the downwash from the rotors engulfs us in thick snow cloud. Alain is still able tsee the ground, but I lose all outsidevisual references. I immediately informStephane, who still has the ground isight on his side of the helicopter.Stephane takes over and plants us firmly in the near-knee-deep snow.The four Swedish soldiers jumpaboard our aircraft, each carrying backpack weighing about 80 poundsWith the snow and added weight, thtake-off will be even trickier than thlanding. We are tight on fuel, close tthe Serbian border, and we cannolinger on the ground. Alain call"Ready" and I commence the takeoffFeeling the urgency to depart, I yanthe helicopter off the ground. Instantlour aircraft i~ smothered in snow anall three of us 'lose sight of the groundThere is only one option, so our eyeimmediately go to the instruments tkeep he helicopter level and climbing-a tough transition to make rapidly wheyou have been looking outside for thpast hour. The troops in the back aoblivious to all this; they are just happ

The First Kosovar Scouts pause for a photo on their last day of Canadian sponsorship in April2000. Fol/owing the Canadians' departure. Norwegian soldiers in the rear row assumedresponsibility for the troop. Capt Jonathan Knaul is kneeling at right in front row.

er in texture to maple syrup than towhat we know as coffee n North Amer-ica. The coffee s very sweet, he taste spleasant,and it warms me.The room is cool and damp, andSheremet's father offers to light thewoodstove. I decline, having noticedthat there wasno wood piled outside hehouse. After half an hour, Carlo and Iprepare to leave. Sheremet's fatherinvites us to stay for supper, but theyhave ittle food, and we politely declinethe offer. I also have a night missionthat takes off in less han three hours.

Shortly after 7:30 p.m., Stephane,Alain, and I are lying toward a mapgridreference -the only information wehave -where we are to pick up fourmembers of a Swedish econnaissancesection. From the map, we can see hatthe landing zone ies in a narrow valleyclose o the border with Serbia.To addto the difficulty of the mission, it is acloudy,snowynight with limited visibil-ity in a region that is verymountainous.In theseconditions, the performanceofour night-vision goggles,which amplifyambient light, is significantly dimin-ished.CanadianForces ules allow us tofly when the visibility is as low as onenautical mile (a bit more than a statute

mile) if we can remain 200 feet abovethe highest obstacle.Flying at the edgeof our weather imits with a fuzzy pic-ture through the goggles is veryuncomfortable, like driving down thehighway in a downpour. To get to thepickup zone,we have o wind throughvalleys to avoid the overcast, which ispierced only by mountaintops. It isimportant that we complete this mis-sion. It is another sub-zero night, andthe patrol will have o spend t outdoorsin a high-threat area if we don't pickthem up.

Arriving in the vicinity of the gridreference,we see wo flashes throughthe murk from a handheld light, indi-cating the exact location for pickup.There are no other lights available towave us in; we are close to the borderand he helicoptermust remainblackedout, as must he peoplebelow.We circleonce to get a good look at the landingzone (LZ). I can see hat the LZ is in atight spot. In the narrow valley, andwith the strong winds prevailing fromthe north, there is only one option forthe approach from the south. We willhave to fly over some electrical lines,and here are also ines on the left of theLZ and trees on the right. There will be

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no room for error, as there is jusenough space in the LZ to fit one helicopter. I confirm the location withStephane and Alain and give an abbrevated briefing on how I will fly theapproach. Stephane gives me some ,tipshe has much more experience than I do

Stephane keeps his hands close tothe controls as I make the approach. I lose battery power to my goggles, wibe blind and he"will have to take over. hundred feet high and 300 feet awafrom the landing zone, the approachlooks good, but I start to feel theembrace of the valley around me. Alaihas the back door on my side open anhis head is outside the aircraft. I cahear his voice shiver as he reports ouproximity to obstacles. A soldier in clearing is signalling to us with hihands, but I am barely able to make himout: Stephane continues to coach mthrough the approach. Thirty feet higand 30 feet away from the LZ, the downwash from the rotors engulfs us in thick snow cloud. Alain is still able tsee the ground, but I lose all outsidevisual references. I immediately informStephane, who still has the ground isight on his side of the helicopter.Stephane takes over and plants us firmly in the near-knee-deep snow.The four Swedish soldiers jumpaboard our aircraft, each carrying backpack weighing about 80 poundsWith the snow and added weight, thtake-off will be even trickier than thlanding. We are tight on fuel, close tthe Serbian border, and we cannolinger on the ground. Alain call"R'eady" and I commence the takeoffFeeling the urgency to depart, I yanthe helicopter off the ground. Instantlour aircraft i,ssmothered in snow anall three of us lose sight of the groundThere is only one option, so our eyeimmediately go to the instruments tkeep he helicopter level and climbing-a tough transition to make rapidly wheyou have been looking outside for thpast hour. The troops in the back aoblivious to all this; they are just happ

The First Kosovar Scouts pause for a photo on their last day of Canadian sponsorship in April2000. Following the Canadians' departure, Norwegian soldiers in the rear row assumedresponsibility for the troop. Capt Jonathan Knaul is kneeling at right in front row.

er in texture to maple syrup than towhat we know as coffee n North Amer-ica. The coffee s very sweet, he taste spleasant,and it warms me.The room is cool and damp, andSheremet's father offers to light thewoodstove. I decline, having noticedthat there wasno wood piled outside hehouse. After half an hour, Carlo and Iprepare to leave. Sheremet's fatherinvites us to stay for supper, but theyhave ittle food, and we politely declinethe offer. I also have a night missionthat takes off in less han three hours.

Shortly after 7:30 p.m., Stephane,Alain, and I are lying toward a mapgridreference -the only information wehave -where we are to pick up fourmembers of a Swedish econnaissancesection. From the map, we can see hatthe landing zone ies in a narrow valleyclose o the border with Serbia.To addto the difficulty of the mission, it is acloudy,snowynight with limited visibil-ity in a region that is verymountainous.In theseconditions, the performanceofour night-vision goggles,which amplifyambient light, is significantly dimin-ished.CanadianForces ules allow us tofly when the visibility is as low as onenautical mile (a bit more than a statute

mile) if we can remain 200 feet abovethe highest obstacle.Flying at the edgeof our weather imits with a fuzzy pic-ture through the goggles is veryuncomfortable, like driving down thehighway in a downpour. To get to thepickup zone,we have o wind throughvalleys to avoid the overcast, which ispierced only by mountaintops. It isimportant that we complete this mis-sion. It is another sub-zero night, andthe patrol will have o spend t outdoorsin a high-threat area if we don't pickthem up.

Arriving in the vicinity of the gridreference,we see wo flashes throughthe murk from a handheld light, indi-cating the exact location for pickup.There are no other lights available towave us in; we are close to the borderand he helicoptermust remainblackedout, as must he peoplebelow.We circleonce to get a good look at the landingzone (LZ). I can see hat the LZ is in atight spot. In the narrow valley, andwith the strong winds prevailing fromthe north, there is only one option forthe approach from the south. We willhave to fly over some electrical lines,and here are also ines on the left of theLZ and trees on the right. There will be

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no room for error, as there is jusenough space in the LZ to fit one helicopter. I confirm the location withStephane and Alain and give an abbrevated briefing on how I will fly theapproach. Stephane gives me some.tipshe has much more experience than I do

Stephane keeps his hands close tothe controls as I make the approach. I lose battery power to my goggles, wibe blind and he"will have to take over. hundred feet high and 300 feet awafrom the landing zone, the approachlooks good, but I start to feel theembrace of the valley around me. Alaihas the back door on my side open anhis head is outside the aircraft. I cahear his voice shiver as he reports ouproximity to obstacles. A soldier in clearing is signalling to us with hihands, but I am barely able to make himout, Stephane continues to coach mthrough the approach. Thirty feet higand 30 feet away from the LZ, the downwash from the rotors engulfs us in thick snow cloud. Alain is still able tsee the ground, but I lose all outsidevisual references. I immediately informStephane, who still has the ground isight on his side of the helicopter.Stephane takes over and plants us firmly in the near-knee-deep snow.The four Swedish soldiers jumpaboard our aircraft, each carrying backpack weighing about 80 poundsWith the snow and added weight, thtake-off will be even trickier than thlanding. We are tight on fuel, close tthe Serbian border, and we cannolinger on the ground. Alain call"R"eady" and I commence the takeoffFeeling the urgency to depart, I yanthe helicopter off the ground. Instantlour aircraft i~ smothered in snow anall three of us 'lose sight of the groundThere is only one option, so our eyeimmediately go to the instruments tkeep he helicopter level and climbing-a tough transition to make rapidly wheyou have been looking outside for thpast hour. The troops in the back aoblivious to all this; they are just happ

The First Kosovar Scouts pause for a photo on their last day of Canadian sponsorship in April2000. Fol/owing the Canadians' departure. Norwegian soldiers in the rear row assumedresponsibility for the troop. Capt Jonathan Knaul is kneeling at right in front row.

er in texture to maple syrup than towhat we know as coffee n North Amer-ica. The coffee s very sweet, he taste spleasant,and it warms me.

The room is cool and damp, andSheremet's father offers to light thewoodstove. I decline, having noticedthat there wasno wood piled outside hehouse. After half an hour, Carlo and Iprepare to leave. Sheremet's fatherinvites us to stay for supper, but theyhave ittle food, and we politely declinethe offer. I also have a night missionthat takes off in less han three hours.

Shortly after 7:30 p.m., Stephane,Alain, and I are flying toward a mapgridreference -the only information wehave -where we are to pick up fourmembers of a Swedish econnaissancesection. From the map,we can see hatthe landing zone ies in a narrow valleyclose o the border with Serbia.To addto the difficulty of the mission, it is acloudy,snowynight with limited visibil-ity in a region that is very mountainous.In theseconditions, he performanceofour night-vision goggles,which amplifyambient light, is significantly dimin-ished.CanadianForces ules allow us tofly when the visibility is as low as onenautical mile (a bit more than a statute

mile) if we can remain 200 feet abovethe highest obstacle.Flying at the edgeof our weather imits with a fuzzy pic-ture through the goggles is veryuncomfortable, like driving down thehighway in a downpour. To get to thepickup zone, we have o wind throughvalleys to avoid the overcast, which ispierced only by mountaintops. It isimportant that we complete this mis-sion. It is another sub-zero night, andthe patrol will have o spend t outdoorsin a high-threat area if we don't pickthem up.

Arriving in the vicinity of the gridreference,we see wo flashes throughthe murk from a handheld light, indi-cating the exact location for pickup.There are no other lights available towave us in; we are close to the borderand he helicoptermust remainblackedout, asmust the peoplebelow.Wecircleonce to get a good look at the landingzone (LZ). I can see hat the LZ is in atight spot. In the narrow valley, andwith the strong winds prevailing fromthe north, there is only one option forthe approach from the south. We willhave to fly over some electrical lines,and here are also ines on the left of theLZ and trees on the right. There will be

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I will fly more missions tomorroand Bill will be out here againall nigshivering and protecting my helicopMy mother will be warm in her Toroapartment, worried sick. But I getcomfort throughout his time in Kosfrom the pride I feel in being a peakeeperand a Canadian. !)

ing to work in the cold. The groundcreware wizards, and I owe them a lot.During a six-month period, hey kept atleastsix of our eight aircraft serviceableeveryday.In the distance, I can see Cpl BillStreet walking the helicopter line.Street is a military ~oliceman with awife and young child back in Winnipeg.He s part of the Canadian irfield Secu-rity Force,and his job for an entire six-month tour is to pull 12-hour shiftsguarding our helicopters and the air-field.

(Ed note: CaptJonathanKnaul returfrom KosovoiastJune and continueserveas a pilot with 430 Sqn, whichbased t CFBValcartiet;Que.)

to be in a warm place.My fingers tenseas I imagine the wires to the left of meand the trees to the right, which I canno longer see. Alain is unable to keephis headoutside he aircraft becauseofthe intense blowing snow.The secondsfeel like hours, and a senseof frustra-tion washesover me. I want to seeout-side and be reassured hat we are clearof the obstacles.Finally we break out ofthe snow cloud and find our aircraft ina safe climb out of the valley.

We still have o weave hrough morevalleys to clear the clouds on our wayhome. Mindful that valleysare ideal places o hit electri-cal wires, VlY eyes strain todetect surprj~es.We are alsolow on fuel, and the doorsstart to closearound us. Backin Canada his would not beas big a problem -we are in ahelicopter and can land inany open field. But this isKosovo, where there arereported to be more than20,000 buried mines in theBritish-Canadian area ofresponsibilityalone.Stephaneknows how to work the fuel-remaining numbers, andminutes later we break out ofthe mountains and into thelights of Pristina. We drop offour passengers t the Swedishcamp on the outskirts of thecapital. The weather s muchimproved between here andthe Canadian camp, and wehave enough fuel to make itback with a safe eserve.

Back at the Canadiancamp we hover-taxi to ourparking spot and shut down.Three technicians drive up,bundled in so many ayers ofclothing that they look likeastronauts on a spacewalk.watch them hook up a towbar and jack the skids up ontrolleys, their reddened andnumb fingers desperatelyry-

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Memories of Kosovo01