I am about to leave for home after my stay in an artists' squat in Bosnia. In the distance we can hear the military music of the British troops preparing to march through the town. White American tanks drive down the streets clearing a path. An announcement is made over the loudspeaker that all occupants of certain buildings should report immediately to army headquarters. There is confusion - do they mean us? We know it is not safe to go to the authorities. I tell everyone to follow me - we can hide in the empty factory next door. We will be safe there for a while.
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