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27th February, 1926 - The Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes
Andrija stood on the rampant, for the first time in 12 years, gazing out over the great river to the land beyond.
He closed his eyes, and could still hear them. The guns, pounding like almighty drums from the other side, launching deadly projectiles across the water, which slammed mercilessly into the fortress walls. The earthquake-like shattering of the old stones nearly knocked him from his feet, yet he had still clutched his rifle in both hands, bearing it close to his chest. Instinctively, he dashed to the edge, and alongside his brothers, aimed for the flashes in the night.
He fired. There was no way to tell if he had hit, but still the general bellowed his congratulations
"Bravo, my sons! Bravo, my heroes!". The call echoed through Andrija's mind, just as a powerful energy had surged through his body that night.
With vigour, he fired again. One of the flashes stopped for a moment, before resuming again. One Habsburg to his name.
A third time he fired, and the magazine was now empty. His concentration broke to reload, and reality came flooding back. The lights of the city behind him had faded, save for the fires that burned ferociously. Screams lept from the darkness; men were dead, and women bled, the streets of Belgrade stained red. He dropped the empty magazine, and wrenched a full one from a pouch on his belt. It entered the gun with a click, audible despite the chaos around him, which itself was drowned out by the general's call.
"Keep shooting, brothers! For the king and the fatherland!!"
Andrija collapsed back to his belly, and kept shooting at the flashes. For the king and the fatherland. For all those who fled behind him. For his brothers who held the fort alongside him. For his mother and father, for his wife, and for his little daughter. For the honour of Belgrade.
A low whistling sound drew nearer. A split-second after firing another round, everything turned to fire. The deafening blast gave way to cries and groans of dying men. Although he could not see, he knew they were there. He tried to move in vain. He could not feel his left arm. His legs stung terribly; something was rooted deep into them, which should not have been there. Andrija cried with his brothers. He had to get up. He had to get his rifle. He had to fight off the invaders. He had to...
Andrija opened his eyes, his vision filled by a calm cloudy sky. His ears picked up the sound of footsteps on concrete. Someone was running towards him. At that moment, a young vixen came into view, leaning over him.
"Are you alright, mister? You had a nasty fall!" she panted, shaking him gently to see if he was conscious. She spoke with a Croatian accent. Andrija smiled; he had always liked Croats.
"Yes, yes, I...I'm fine, thank you" he replied. She was visibly relieved.
"Here, let me help you up" she offered, standing up and extending a paw towards him. Andrija reached for it with his left paw, and stopped; that's right, he thought, it isn't there, anymore. He lifted his right paw, and pulled himself up with the fox's help.
"Did you slip?" asked the vixen.
"No", he responded, "just a bad dream".
FurAffinity tip # to get away with giving two pictures the same name, try translating the name into a different language!
In alliance with about 5 pictures I have posted to this website, of pictures containing the Danube River, please have another! Standing atop Belgrade Fortress, you can see the confluence of the Sava and Danube rivers, with the larger river pictured here being the Sava, and the smaller off to the left-of-centre being the Danube. Now, those of you with an interest in geography might be wondering why the Danube should be flowing into the Sava, given that the former is the larger river. The answer is quite simple; the Danube you see here isn't the whole river, and the forested area to the right is actually a river island. Known as Veliko Ratno Ostrvo, or Great War Island, it was here that the Austro-Hungarians positioned their artillery to attack Belgrade, and where 4 years of blood and carnage would begin in 1914. The main Danube river is, at the main confluence, enormous, as denoted by only one bridge connecting the north and south banks for the whole city, but I wasn't able to get a picture of this part of the river.
Hope you enjoy!
Andrija stood on the rampant, for the first time in 12 years, gazing out over the great river to the land beyond.
He closed his eyes, and could still hear them. The guns, pounding like almighty drums from the other side, launching deadly projectiles across the water, which slammed mercilessly into the fortress walls. The earthquake-like shattering of the old stones nearly knocked him from his feet, yet he had still clutched his rifle in both hands, bearing it close to his chest. Instinctively, he dashed to the edge, and alongside his brothers, aimed for the flashes in the night.
He fired. There was no way to tell if he had hit, but still the general bellowed his congratulations
"Bravo, my sons! Bravo, my heroes!". The call echoed through Andrija's mind, just as a powerful energy had surged through his body that night.
With vigour, he fired again. One of the flashes stopped for a moment, before resuming again. One Habsburg to his name.
A third time he fired, and the magazine was now empty. His concentration broke to reload, and reality came flooding back. The lights of the city behind him had faded, save for the fires that burned ferociously. Screams lept from the darkness; men were dead, and women bled, the streets of Belgrade stained red. He dropped the empty magazine, and wrenched a full one from a pouch on his belt. It entered the gun with a click, audible despite the chaos around him, which itself was drowned out by the general's call.
"Keep shooting, brothers! For the king and the fatherland!!"
Andrija collapsed back to his belly, and kept shooting at the flashes. For the king and the fatherland. For all those who fled behind him. For his brothers who held the fort alongside him. For his mother and father, for his wife, and for his little daughter. For the honour of Belgrade.
A low whistling sound drew nearer. A split-second after firing another round, everything turned to fire. The deafening blast gave way to cries and groans of dying men. Although he could not see, he knew they were there. He tried to move in vain. He could not feel his left arm. His legs stung terribly; something was rooted deep into them, which should not have been there. Andrija cried with his brothers. He had to get up. He had to get his rifle. He had to fight off the invaders. He had to...
Andrija opened his eyes, his vision filled by a calm cloudy sky. His ears picked up the sound of footsteps on concrete. Someone was running towards him. At that moment, a young vixen came into view, leaning over him.
"Are you alright, mister? You had a nasty fall!" she panted, shaking him gently to see if he was conscious. She spoke with a Croatian accent. Andrija smiled; he had always liked Croats.
"Yes, yes, I...I'm fine, thank you" he replied. She was visibly relieved.
"Here, let me help you up" she offered, standing up and extending a paw towards him. Andrija reached for it with his left paw, and stopped; that's right, he thought, it isn't there, anymore. He lifted his right paw, and pulled himself up with the fox's help.
"Did you slip?" asked the vixen.
"No", he responded, "just a bad dream".
FurAffinity tip # to get away with giving two pictures the same name, try translating the name into a different language!
In alliance with about 5 pictures I have posted to this website, of pictures containing the Danube River, please have another! Standing atop Belgrade Fortress, you can see the confluence of the Sava and Danube rivers, with the larger river pictured here being the Sava, and the smaller off to the left-of-centre being the Danube. Now, those of you with an interest in geography might be wondering why the Danube should be flowing into the Sava, given that the former is the larger river. The answer is quite simple; the Danube you see here isn't the whole river, and the forested area to the right is actually a river island. Known as Veliko Ratno Ostrvo, or Great War Island, it was here that the Austro-Hungarians positioned their artillery to attack Belgrade, and where 4 years of blood and carnage would begin in 1914. The main Danube river is, at the main confluence, enormous, as denoted by only one bridge connecting the north and south banks for the whole city, but I wasn't able to get a picture of this part of the river.
Hope you enjoy!
Category Photography / Scenery
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1280 x 960px
File Size 262.5 kB
Listed in Folders
Serbia, and the former Yugoslav states in general, thankfully escaped much of what you described. Although the Tito years of the SFR Yugoslavia saw the extensive construction of brutish-style architecture, the older buildings were left alone, for the most part. As such, Belgrade still has many beautiful historic buildings because of locals' respect for their history.
You can also find beautiful Slavic architecture in the Czech Republic and Slovakia. These countries were mostly untouched during the Second World War, and although these structures were not adequately maintained by the communist dictatorship, much has been done since 1989 to bring some shine back to the landscapes of Prague, Brno, Olomouc, Ostrava, Bratislava, and Kosice, to name a few cities.
Thank you for your comment and fave! ^__^
You can also find beautiful Slavic architecture in the Czech Republic and Slovakia. These countries were mostly untouched during the Second World War, and although these structures were not adequately maintained by the communist dictatorship, much has been done since 1989 to bring some shine back to the landscapes of Prague, Brno, Olomouc, Ostrava, Bratislava, and Kosice, to name a few cities.
Thank you for your comment and fave! ^__^
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