Bruce Henwood

In early 1995, I was seconded to the United Nations (UN) as a Military Observer (UNMO) in the Former Republic of Yugoslavia (FRY), on a year-long deployment. I was one of just 15 Canadian officers joining the United Nations Confidence Restoration Operation (UNCRO) in the FRY. Pre-deployment training included communications, first aid, mine action, and cultural awareness. My family prepared for this extended absence not knowing exactly when we would see each other again. I departed on Canada Day for Zagreb with all my gear for one year. Most of the 15 of us arrived within a couple of days of each other, so our rented accommodation was very crowded, with our kit stacked everywhere. 

We completed one week of UNMO training specific to the FRY, and were assigned to specific sectors, four in Croatia, four in Bosnia-Herzegovina, and several scattered elsewhere in the FRY. I was assigned to Sector North in Croatia, a large area comprising part of the rebel Serbian held region called the Krajinas. We were unarmed so as not to present a threat to anyone we encountered, but for us, this was a bit unnerving. 

Divided into four teams and a HQ, I was sent to the town of Ogulin. We were 16 UNMOs, all from different countries, one interpreter and two vehicles. We lived on the economy in a large, rented house with six bedrooms, and were responsible for our own food, cleaning, etc. The house also served as our team base from which we provided daily reports to our HQ by secure and unsecure phones in our operations room at the house. Thrice daily, we conducted vehicle patrols equipped only with unsecure Motorola radios, to watch for unauthorized military activity and ceasefire violations in the zone of separation (ZOS), which straddled the unofficial border separating the warring factions, approximately 5–10 kilometres wide. 

Shortly thereafter, I was pulled into the Sector HQ in Topusko to be a duty officer. Although displeased, I was told I would eventually return as the team leader. The HQ was in the Krajinas and accessed by crossing the ZOS into an area where things were completely different. Many houses were destroyed, clear evidence of the ethnic fighting between the Croats and the rebel Serbs. By the end of July the situation worsened. Curfews were imposed, electricity and water became intermittent, the sound of shelling and gunfire got closer, alert levels increased, and more military traffic was observed. By early August, things were very tense. Troops on both sides of the ZOS were fully mobilized, all ZOS crossing sites were closed, and we were essentially trapped in the Krajinas! As a precaution, we destroyed all unnecessary classified documents because neither side trusted UNMOs, and our intelligence indicated that both sides considered us as targets.

On 4 August, all hell broke loose as full-scale fighting exploded all along the ZOS. The Croatian Army entered the Krajinas intent on destroying the rebel Serb army, along with the Serbian civilian population. Fighting was intense. Topusko was overrun with thousands of desperate Serb refugees intermingled with fighting units as they all attempted to flee the Croatian advance. The fighting was over by 9 August, the rebel Serb army surrendered, and I was one of the UN representatives at the surrender talks. 

Thereafter, UNMO roles shifted, and our patrols now supported the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR), preventing atrocities and further ethnic cleansing. At the end of August, I was sent back to Ogulin as the Team Leader. We continued our daily patrols and worked our way into areas from which the UN had previously been excluded. Daily, we encountered Serbs who were unaware that they had lost the Krajinas and were in mortal danger. 

My tour ended abruptly on 27 September 1995. I was on patrol in an area that we had never before accessed, heading towards some small hamlets to warn the Serbs to leave, when my vehicle struck an anti-tank mine in an unmarked minefield. It took over two hours to get me to a UN field hospital in Zagreb where my legs, which took the brunt of the explosion, had to be amputated. I was immediately flown to a large American hospital in Landstuhl Germany, finally returning to Canada two weeks later to start a new chapter in my life as a
double amputee.

My tour, despite the life altering outcome, was exhilarating, exciting, rewarding and put all my professional training to use.