REPRISAL AND RETRIBUTION
The war’s highly charged origins made atrocity almost inevitable
The war in the Balkans began as a war apart. From the moment Franz Ferdinand was assassinated the mood in the Austro-hungarian Empire turned poisonous for Serbs, who were seen as irredentists and fifth columnists.
Before they even saw the border, the men of the Balkan Army believed that the rules of civilised warfare had already been discarded – the attack on the Habsburg heir was a criminal act by a barbarous people. Rightly or wrongly, they held the Serbian state directly responsible for the murder.
Serbian nationalist and pan-slav organisations such as Mlada Bosna, which Franz Ferdinand’s assassins had belonged to, were active within Bosnia and Herzegovina and were being supported by elements within the Belgrade military establishment. As a multi-ethnic entity keeping a lid on myriad interest groups, the Serbian way of war represented an existential threat to the Dual Monarchy.
Shortly after the outbreak of hostilities, German-swiss criminologist Dr Archibald Reiss was commissioned by the Serbian government to investigate war crimes committed by the Austrohungarians (and as such his findings must be viewed as politically loaded). The results make for grim reading should you seek it out: slaughtered children left for the dogs, women raped and mutilated, a crowd bayoneted outside of a church, and hostages taken as protection against insurgents. Even taking into account Reiss’s bias, much of this is a matter of record. As Austrohungarian soldiers stepped onto the part of their mental map marked “Here be Dragons”, paranoia and suspicion were constant.
An order issued to the IX Corps read, “During the whole course of the war the greatest severity, the greatest harshness and the greatest mistrust be observed towards everyone. In the first place I will not allow inhabitants of the enemy’s country, armed but not in uniform, who are met either alone or in groups, to be taken prisoners. No consideration is to prevent their execution.”
The “greatest mistrust” is understandable, even if the consequences are not. Serbs in Habsburg lands crossed the border to enlist with the Serbian
“DURING THE WHOLE COURSE OF THE WAR THE GREATEST SEVERITY, THE GREATEST HARSHNESS AND THE GREATEST MISTRUST BE OBSERVED TOWARDS EVERYONE”
Army, roving bands of Chetnik irregulars prowled behind the lines, local Serb populations in Bosnia and Srem reported on troop movements, and even the territorial army detachments defending the border must have contributed to this sense of dread. Mainly teenagers and old men, most without uniforms, third line territorials would have given the average Austro-hungarian infantryman the impression that this whole country had risen up against him. Even Reiss acknowledged that the ‘innocent’ may not have been, writing that
“the worst that can be said against the civilian combatants is that they were defending their country.” Again, one cannot excuse the character of the Austro-hungarian response, but the Hague Convention of 1907 left a considerable grey area for the treatment of combatants outside of uniform and recognisable army hierarchy.
These atrocities were almost certainly reciprocated. Many Serbian units were veterans of the earlier Balkan Wars, which had shocked the rest of Europe with its violence towards civilians, prisoners and the wounded. As they moved into territory abandoned by the enemy and saw the trail of murder, rape, desecration and arson, any German, Hungarian or Croat civilians remaining would have been targets of the same.
Where the Hague Convention was unambiguous, though, was in the use of rounds that expand or explode upon impact, causing horrific wounds. Austro-hungarian Einschusspatrone (aiming bullet) rounds contained a cylinder of mercury fulminate and were designed for ranging machine guns against its small but bright explosion. Along with the spent cartridges and infantry captured carrying five rounds apiece, Reiss published photographs showing the rounds’ gruesome impression on the human body.