Twenty Years Ago, I Published a Conversation with Mrs. Ana Armić
Twenty years ago, I published a conversation with Mrs. Ana Armić, who at the time lived with her family in the Chicago area (Croatian Chronicle – Chicago, 2004, Vol. III, No. 2, pp. 5–8). It is valuable to publish it again here because it is both instructive and interesting. Moreover, these distinguished and hardworking Croatians around the world deserve not to be forgotten.
Mr. Josip and Mrs. Ana Armić were not only a model Croatian and Christian family within the Croatian community in Chicago, but they were also individuals who had traveled a long and challenging path together. Their lives are woven into the modern history of the Croatian people, both in their homeland and in America, particularly in Chicago. Their life journey led them through the difficult days of World War II, the persecutions in the post-war period that they had to endure as young Croatian students and teachers, exile, immigration to America, and the hard work required to build a new life. However, there was also much joy in family life, raising children, achieving success in private business, the growth of their grandchildren, and, of course, the happiness of witnessing the independence of the Croatian state, the collapse of communism, and the dissolution of the Yugoslav entity from which they, like many other Croatians, had to flee to a foreign world.
We asked Mrs. Ana to share at least a fragment of her and her husband’s life story with our readers because their life is also a part of the life and history of this Croatian community.
Mrs. Armić, tell us briefly where you were born and about your memories of the early years of your life…
I was born in Grubišno Polje, and my maiden name is Brković. I come from a Croatian peasant family. My parents, like most Croatian farmers, were very intelligent, honest, and hardworking people. They were also good Christians and proud Croatians. The values they deeply cherished and the principles they lived by were passed on to us, their children. They always instilled those values in our souls.
Besides memories of my school days, which were filled with youthful optimism and joy, I also clearly remember the political and social (mis)conditions in Croatia, especially in my hometown. Even in our youth, we learned what Yugoslavia was, who was oppressing us, and why, from an early age, we had to live in fear. It was clear to us what the Serbs were doing and what they wanted to do with the Croatians. That is why the memory of the proclamation of the Independent State of Croatia (NDH) remains so deeply imprinted in my mind. The Croatian people were thrilled and happy that they had finally gained their own state. Much is said about the ideologies of that time, but little attention is paid to the fact that the people simply wanted their own state. They had had enough of foreign rule, that is, Serbian oppression. Those days from my early youth remain in my memory, and I will never forget them.
Where did you go to school, and what are your memories of those young days?
In my hometown, I attended elementary school and then a civic school. I attended and completed the teacher training school in Pakrac. At that time, the Partisans, mainly Serbs, were ravaging our region. Those were sad times. Life was terrifying. No one knew when the “night would swallow” them. We fled from our homes to places where the Croatian army still remained. My brothers and uncles joined the Croatian army, and some never returned.
During my schooling in Pakrac, I associated with those who were good Croatians and felt the same as I did. That is how I met Josip Armić, whom I later married in 1947. The Partisans took all the male students from our school who were 16 years old and older and forced them into the “people’s army.” Those young men suffered greatly, and some never returned alive.
We had to interrupt school after completing the second year due to the war conditions. When the war ended, after a lost year, we resumed our schooling. We mostly had good teachers. The communists wanted to push us into communist organizations. There were various pressures, but we avoided them as best we could and knew how, and we did not join their organizations.
You mentioned that many did not return home after the war. Did anyone from your or Josip’s family perish at Bleiburg or on the Way of the Cross?
Much could be said about those sad memories, but here is the briefest version.
As early as 1942, the Serbs took Josip’s father, Ivan, at night and killed him. They sawed him alive. There were many Serbs around Pakrac, and they did as they pleased. Josip’s mother, Fanika, was left with three small children. When Tito’s regime came into power, she was taken to a camp, and the children were left alone. It was a horror.
Josip’s older brother, Franjo, was in the Croatian army. He managed to cross the border and reach Italy and later Canada. His younger brother, Vinko, was 20 years old after the war and had to serve in the Yugoslav army. They killed him there, and it was done by a Croatian from Bjelovar. One of our friends knew that man and told us that he was still alive a few years ago. Vinko’s body was delivered to Pakrac in a coffin. They were told not to open it, but the family did, and they saw that he had been shot in the back.
My brother, Josip, was a young man of military age during the NDH and served in PTS. He retreated with the Croatian army and was killed on the Way of the Cross. With him were also my two cousins, my uncle’s sons—Dragan and Franjo—who witnessed his fate. Fortunately, they managed to escape. My uncle Đuro was also in the death march and never returned. He was 23 years old. Another cousin, Ivo, who completed teacher training school in Pakrac during the war and later joined the Croatian army, was also killed on the Way of the Cross. His neighbor, a man from his hometown of Veliki Grđevac near Bjelovar, killed him. The man who killed him died of cancer ten or fifteen years after the war. But before he died, he called Stjepan, Ivo’s brother, and told him,
I cannot die without telling you that I was the one who killed your Ivo.
I personally saw our martyrs in the columns of death. Our mothers cooked what they had, and some of them dared to run with a bowl to take a little cooked food. Women threw bread among them so they could at least put something in their mouths. I remember the place where these poor people spent one night—by morning, there were no leaves or bark left on the trees. I was young, but even now, those memories shake me. I saw one of them lying dead by the road. His skull had been shattered by a bullet. Others dragged their comrades along because if someone fell behind, their fate was clear. We who only witnessed these events cannot forget them, let alone those who endured such suffering!
The text provided is a translation from an article published in the Croatian Chronicle – Chicago, 2004, ** vol. III, no. 2, pages 5–8. The original article features an interview with Mrs. Ana Armić, who, at that time, lived with her family near Chicago. The interview offers valuable insights into the life and experiences of the Armić family, highlighting their contributions to the Croatian community in Chicago and their personal journey through significant historical events.