Our ragtag team of merrymakers weren’t the only guests at Castle Greyskull; a Hungarian SFOR unit was stopping over as well. Here’s me hamming it up with some of ’em, hoisting a variant of the famous Russian AK-47 above my knobby knees.


This is Maggie, an abused dog who was adopted by the base, and who stole everyone’s heart.


A group shot of the troupe in our emergency gear… In case the bus broke down in no-man’s land everyone who rode it was issued a hockey bag containing a helmet, flak jacket, gas mask and a day’s worth of rations.


As a further safety precaution we were escorted by jeep into the centre of Drvar. What our escorts didn’t know is that we had come into town the evening before, on bicycles.


Asshole of the world? Well, Drvar is pretty rundown, but no… This is the entrance to the caves where General Tito hid from the Nazis during the Second World War.


We didn’t get keys to the city, but Shag singer Sandra Volodoff did get some hand-picked flowers from a local goat-wrangler…


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One response to “Drvar”

  1. Lived here fo 11 months 2002/3. Lived with Serb family – good atmosphere most of the time. Typical mountain town,not much to do and limited opportunities to spend money! Choice of fresh food limited in winter – 1 metre snow for three months and -27 degrees C!
    Easy to cross into Croatia, loads of scenery. Beware ‘cos bears and wolves live here (for the time being)

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