Balkans

Salvatore Vacca came home from Bosnia a gray, sweating shadow of the amiable soldier his mother knew. He had shed 30 pounds. His heart raced. The skin between his fingers and toes was wet and raw. That was in April 1999. By September, the corporal in the elite Sassari Brigader was dead of leukemia at 23. "We never had an explanation," said his mother, Pepina, a homemaker in Sardinia. "We never received any calls from the army or the government. " Now she has her suspicions, as do the families of six other Italians who died of cancer after serving in the former Yugoslavia.

Democracy, si; Milosevic, no. That's the upshot of last weekend's elections in Serbia, Yugoslavia's dominant republic. The big victory by an anti-communist coalition of 18 parties solidifies the nation's fledgling democracy and the demise of its ex-dictator, Slobodan Milosevic. The ruling coalition will hold almost five times as many parliamentary seats as Mr. Milosevic's Socialists. Not only is Mr. Milosevic further removed from power three months after failing to steal the presidential election, he seems closer to the criminal prosecution he richly deserves.

Defining moments in presidential election campaigns are difficult to predict but remarkably easy to identify once they occur. Such a development is the profoundly misguided announcement by Texas Gov. George W. Bush that he would unilaterally withdraw United States ground forces from the NATO-led peacekeeping operations in Bosnia and Kosovo. Guaranteeing the security of the American people is the paramount responsibility of the president. Nothing else comes close. For more than half a century, the security of this nation has rested upon the solid rock of NATO, the world's most successful military and political alliance.

The rest of the world may worry that Yugoslav President Slobodan Milosevic is about to ignite another Balkan conflict, but the indicted war criminal doesn't look so strong to Mileta Pavicevic here in the capital of Montenegro, Serbia's sister republic. Milosevic's time has passed, Pavicevic said. "I pray to God he gets sick and dies. " The 51-year-old tow-truck driver, who once rallied thousands to support Milosevic, said he will not vote to reelect the Serb strongman to the Yugoslav federation's presidency next Sunday.

Marsha Clark redrafted her will on Friday. In two weeks, she, her husband and six other members of Southwood Baptist Church will travel to Kosovo on a refugee relief mission. Undaunted by the danger in a region still experiencing outbursts of ethnic violence, she simply wanted to be prepared. "In the beginning, it caused me concern, but then I just thought about their needs versus my needs," said Clark, 43, a mother of two. "We believe the Lord wants us to help everyone in need.

The 4-year-old boy who plopped down on the big pillows in the office of psychologist Lark Eshelman refused to talk about the horrific scene he had witnessed at a Laundromat. But his drawing, done at Eshelman's request, told the tale. On a piece of construction paper, the boy drew a series of stick figures. One was him. One was a stranger brandishing a knife. And one, drawn with a red marker, was his mother. She was lying on the floor, blood spilling from her side. Eshelman, who shared the drawing during a recent interview, runs a busy child-therapy practice here in the seemingly placid farm country of Lancaster County.

NATO's new challenge is to make sure that the Kosovo conflict marks the last of the Balkan wars. Toward this end, President Clinton will go to Sarajevo on Friday. Leaders from more than 30 countries will gather at a summit called to promote stability throughout the post-Kosovo Balkans. "We won the war, but it will be a hollow victory if we lose the peace," the President's national security adviser Sandy Berger said on Monday. He's right. So watch what happens in Sarajevo, and how NATO leaders follow through on what develops there.

Amid crisis and disaster, Jim Blumenstock carried life across the Albanian-Montenegran border. Literally. Blumenstock could tell that Neta, the mother of a 2-month-old baby she'd given a name that in Albanian means life, was weary after hours of travel that day in late June and wanted help - someone to hold her infant. A father of three himself, Blumenstock, 44, reached out and took the little boy, carrying Yeton from Montenegro into Albania. And, with Blumenstock's assistance, just a few hours later, Neta and Yeton would be reunited with the rest of their family.

On a delicate silver tray, Lumuije Rushiti placed tall glasses half-filled with soda. She offered them to her guests with a gracious smile, as though she were serving the finest of wines. There are few amenities and very little space in her narrow, dormitory-style room, with its two single beds and red carpeting and white curtains and windows opened wide to catch the breeze. But Rushiti and her family still manage chairs and a warm welcome for their visitors - a group of teachers and other volunteers trying to cushion the shock of the Kosovar Albanians' stay in Germany.

Why NATO intervened in Kosovo, and next steps K. Vernon Kinsey (Letters, June 17) and other Clinton-haters have been so blinded by their rage toward the American President that they are now standing up on behalf of Slobodan Milosevic, a ruthless tyrant who has started four wars in 10 years. Unfortunately, the facts are all standing in their way. Kinsey aims his wrath at Clinton, in part, because "hundreds of innocent people have been killed . . . innocent Serbs are leaving Kosovo . . . many will not return.