War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 1935 Olympic Stories on the Battlefield
"Have you found the enemy?"

At the edge of the crack in the crumbling wall, Wei Ran, leaning against the broken wall, asked softly, while also glancing at the other person's finger resting on the trigger guard and the large pry bar that held the gun in place.

“Found it,” Zorana answered softly.

There's a topographical map drawn on the floor next to you.

Wei Ran picked up a wire and pointed to the topographic map on the floor. "This is the top of that mountain, this is the left side of the mountain you see now, and this line is the highway. Now mark the approximate location of the enemy you see."

Although she didn't understand Wei Ran's purpose in doing this, Zorana patiently picked up a small piece of broken brick, and after thinking for a while, drew a circle in one of the places, encircling the five-pointed star that Wei Ran had drawn earlier.

"Now refocus your attention on the other side and tell me approximately how far apart you are."

“500 meters or 600 meters,” Zorana replied immediately. “My dad taught me how to measure distances.”

"Aim at the opponent," Wei Ran paused and asked, "Where do you usually aim?"

"I'm used to breaking things."

"Break?"

“It was smashed like a UFO target,” Zorana explained regretfully. “It’s a pity it wasn’t a shotgun, and shotguns can’t go that far anyway.”

"Then aim for the spot you're most confident in."

Wei Ran smiled and said, "Just aim first, then release the safety, and I'll teach you when to fire."

“I’ve got it,” Zorana said, instinctively putting her finger on the trigger.

Zorana gently touched the other person's finger with the wire in her hand, and immediately put it back on the trigger guard.

"The best way to avoid being detected is to conceal your gunfire," Wei Ran said. "Does your gun have a silencer?"

“No,” Zorana replied.

"boom!"

Just then, another shell hit the city and struck a street in the distance.

"That's your silencer."

Wei Ran said, "Before the shells fall, there will be a whistle. The pitch of this whistle changes as it flies from a distance, so you have to listen carefully."

"So I have to fire when the explosion starts?" Zorana asked with remarkable insight.

"Let the sounds of gunfire and explosions blend together."

Wei Ran said, "Get ready, I'll touch you lightly when I can fire."

"Mmm," Zorana responded softly.

As the two waited patiently, another mortar shell flew over with a whistle. At the end of the whistle, Wei Ran touched the back of the other person's hand with the wire in his hand.

"boom!"

With another mortar shell exploding, Zorana pulled the trigger.

"I hit it!" Zorana exclaimed excitedly.

"Then let's leave here."

As Wei Ran spoke, he urged the other person to grab their weapon and the camouflage cloth, then crouch down and start going downstairs.

"I just hit him in the chest," Zorana said excitedly.

"Do not fire two or more shots in the same place in one day."

Wei Ran casually reminded him, "Don't let the other party figure out your pattern. Every time you move, you have to disrupt the pattern and order."

"I've got it."

Before Zorana could finish speaking, Wei Ran abruptly raised the submachine gun that had been hanging on his shoulder.

Seeing this, Zorana quickly raised the sniper rifle she had just used to kill the enemy again.

In just a short while, Wei Ran had reached the doorway of the room with the sofa and long table, then rushed in and pressed the muzzle of his gun against the lower back of a figure standing there.

"Put down what you're holding."

Before Wei Ran could finish speaking, the man he had been holding a gun to suddenly turned around and stabbed him in the chest with the kitchen knife in his hand.

"Snapped!"

Wei Ran reacted swiftly, delivering a light but firm kick to the knee on the side where the opponent was holding the knife. The opponent immediately lost his balance, spun around, and fell to the ground.

Before he could even lie down properly, Wei Ran had already used the submachine gun in his hand as a baton to tap the wrist of the other man's hand holding the knife.

Stimulated by the intense pain, the man dropped the knife in his hand. After eliminating the threat, Wei Ran was able to see clearly that the man was an old man who looked to be at least sixty years old.

Don't steal it.

"You're the one stealing our things."

Wei Ran stepped on the other person's hand as they tried to reach for the knife, reminding them.

"I was the one who went first."

“Uncle Amell, these are indeed ours.”

Zorana, carrying a gun, walked in and said, "We've been holding out here for a month. You can't steal our things."

"Who cares how long you've been here! What I find is mine!"

The old man, known as Amell, roared and struggled, "Let me go! What are these things?"

"Oh!"

Wei Ran fired a shot at the sofa next to him. The sound was not loud due to the integrated silencer, but it still brought the other person back to their senses.

Coming to his senses, the old man still disregarded everything and reached for the compressed biscuits he had just pulled from under the table and the sponge cushion he had just torn off the sofa—even though one of his hands was still being stepped on by Wei Ran.

“I wouldn’t mind killing you,” Wei Ran reminded him.

My child is starving to death.

Amell clung to Wei Ran's legs and pleaded, "My grandson has a fever, I just want him to have something to eat before he freezes to death."

"Please, please share some food with me. Zorana, please, please share some food with me."

I can only give you one cookie.

Zorana said calmly, "You coward, your grandson died six months ago."

After saying this, Amel trembled at first, but then opened her mouth and tried to bite Wei Ran's thigh.

"boom!"

Another dull gunshot rang out, and a bullet pierced the top of Amel's head, causing him to fall to the ground with a thud.

Wei Ran's decisive killing of this "acquaintance" clearly startled Zorana.

"Tell me about this person."

Wei Ran asked as he examined the body.

He used to live in this building.

Zorana realized what was happening and, while tidying up the items that Amel had found, said with remarkable composure, "He was also a policeman, a retired one."

"and after?"

As Wei Ran spoke, he rummaged through a small bag under Amel's arm and pulled out a wad of banknotes, a string of gold rings, and even a necklace.

But all of these things combined are not as valuable as the small anti-inflammatory pill hidden in this little bag.

"After the war began"

Zorana shuddered. "He and some police arrested a lot of Serbs, killed men, and raped women and children in churches. Many of them were actually Muslims and Croats."

Upon hearing this, Wei Ran opened his mouth but did not ask any further questions. He did not know which ethnic group this girl named Zorana belonged to.

“He killed quite a few people, and he abused quite a few women,” Zorana scoffed. “He even tried to arrest Serbs from our shooting team. Luna is a Serb, but luckily we had guns too.”

"How did he become like this?"

Wei Ran carried the corpse on his shoulder and walked out while asking questions.

"One day, a Serb shell landed near their stronghold, the building collapsed, and he was the only one who survived by chance while he was hiding in a basement having sex with a woman."

Zorana followed him out. "Then he disappeared."

"You mean this building?"

“The other building right next to it,” Zorana pointed to the wreckage outside, “is now just wreckage. I bet he came back to look for something buried in that building.”

Why did you just now?

"He and my dad are actually good friends, very good friends."

And
Moreover, our sniper rifles were also traded to us by him, in exchange for our sporting rifles, pistols, shotguns, and a bicycle.

Zorana replied with shame, ashamed that her father had such a friend.

"This is not something we can decide."

As Wei Ran spoke, he carried the corpse up to the second floor and temporarily placed it next to a broken window. This filthy body might come in handy later.

Back in the room on the first floor, Wei Ran asked after a moment of silence, "Zorana, what kind of people are you?"

When the question was asked, Zorana visibly panicked.

But soon, she answered honestly, "I am a Serb, but in fact, we are no different from each other, only the religions we believe in are different."

My father said that this wasn't a war between ethnic groups at all, but a war instigated to destroy Yugoslavia.

"If only those people could see this clearly too."

Wei Ran shook his head with a sigh. He had heard of and seen countless people with such clear minds in countless wars.

Unfortunately, most of them did not survive until the end of the war.

"It's too late, there's no use in regretting it."

"If it weren't for this war, we might have had the chance to go to Barcelona for the Olympics," Zorana said regretfully.

There will be an opportunity.

Wei Ran said in a daze, "You will all have the opportunity to participate in the next Olympics."

"Have you watched the women's 3,000-meter track and field competition at the Barcelona Olympics?" Zorana asked abruptly.

"no"

Wei Ran shook his head honestly; he hadn't seen it before, as he wasn't even born then.

“I was going to ask you who the champion was,” Zorana said regretfully, “and then I was going to ask you who came in last place.”

"Do you know them?" Wei Ran pressed.

"I know the last one, her name is Mirsada."

With a calmness beyond her years, Zorana said, "No, I wouldn't say I know her, but I've seen her training on that street outside. Do you know who her coach is?"

"Who is it?" Wei Ran couldn't help but look out the window, which was blocked by the rubble of the building.

"Those snipers."

Zorana laughed and said, "She was running down the street where snipers were watching her. They would shoot at her, and if she didn't want to get hit, she had to run faster."

By then we had already left the shooting team and joined my father in whatever combat we could.

In our spare time, we would hide inside the building and cheer her on. Back then, we didn't know her name; we usually just yelled at her to run faster.

"And then?" Wei Ran asked, taking out his camera under the cover of his backpack.

"Later"

Zorana glanced curiously at the camera in Wei Ran's hand. "Later, she was still hit by a sniper, twice."

Fortunately, none of the injuries were serious. One of them was even bandaged by Luna. It was after that incident that we learned her name was Mirsada and that she was going to Barcelona for the Olympics, on behalf of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

She succeeded.

Wei Ran said this after pressing the shutter button on the girl telling the story.

"Yes, she succeeded. I still remember that she ran a time of 10 minutes and 3.34 seconds in the preliminary round."

Zorana smiled brightly at the large lens of the camera in Wei Ran's hand and said, "I don't care whether Sarajevo belongs to Bosnia and Herzegovina or Yugoslavia, or even if it belongs to Antarctica."

But it's like deciding to run faster to represent the city in the Olympics.

When we left the shooting team, gave up the Olympics, and decided to pick up guns to kill, it was to end the war here.

Mr. T, this is just Sarajevo, and I am just a Sarajevo resident.

If you had come here before the war, I swear on my mother, it's actually very beautiful. The Serbs, Bosniaks, and Croats all get along very well and are friends.

"I Believe"

Wei Ran pressed the shutter button again, saying, "You don't need to swear, I believe everything you say."

You are protecting Sarajevo just like Walter.

"Will Walter defend Sarajevo?"

Zorana picked up a compressed biscuit and muttered to herself, "I heard that the director of that movie, Mr. Krvavac, starved to death in 1992, the year he ran fast to participate in the Barcelona Olympics."

"Is that so?"

Wei Ran put down his camera. He hadn't actually seen Walter Defend Sarajevo; he only knew about the relevant war history and that such a movie was made based on that history.

He was even more unaware that the film's director had starved to death.

Yes, this place was besieged for even longer than Leningrad, and the weapons of this era were far more efficient at killing people than those of that era. How could no one have starved to death?

"So, is Mr. T a sniper or a war photographer?" Zorana asked Wei Ran, resting her chin on her hand.

"No difference"

Wei Ran snapped out of his daze, put away his camera, and said, "There's no difference between a sniper and a photographer. They always have to aim at something. The force used to press the shutter and pull the trigger is actually the same."

Snipers can kill and record the killing; war photographers can record the killing, and they can also kill.

I liked what you just said.

A man's voice came from behind a wall in the distance, and Wei Ran reacted quickly by raising his submachine gun.

Please do not fire.

The man hiding behind the wall said, "Zorana, quickly prove my identity."

“Mr. T, that’s the reporter I mentioned before, the one who promised to hire a sniper for us.” Zorana stood up as she spoke.

"I've put down my gun, come on over," Wei Ran said, placing the submachine gun on the floor.

A moment later, a man with a long beard, several cameras hanging around his neck, emerged from behind the wall, his hands raised.

He was a veteran
Wei Ran sensed something from the other person at a glance, especially noticing the tattoos on the other person's arms and neck.

"Hello, Mr. T."

The burly, bearded man slowly lowered his hands and greeted them.

"A Frenchman?" Wei Ran asked in French as he shook hands with the other person.

"That's right, the French."

The man shook Wei Ran's hand and nodded frankly. "The Frenchman who supports the Serbs is also a journalist who covered the Barcelona Olympics."