acks from the air, they will fight if the campaign becomes a ground war. ``I am not a coward, I am just trying to survive,'' said Gagi, who, like the others agreed to speak only if identified solely by first names or nicknames. ``But if ... NATO is coming with ground troops, I'll have to go. I'll have to defend my family.'' Djordje agrees. Like Gagi, he opposed President Slobodan Milosevic before the NATO attacks began and considers him and his Kosova policies partially responsible for those attacks. Like Gagi, he deeply resents the airstrikes as unjustified attacks on civilians. But Djordje, too, says he is willing to don a uniform if NATO ground forces invade. ``In that case, it has nothing to do with politics,'' said the 33-year-old, a lawyer by training. ``In that case, it's my house, my backyard, my cat, my grandma.'' Gagi, 35, is particularly worried about the specter of mobilization -- with reason. The unemployed computer engineer has a wife and two small girls, aged 3 and 5. Leaving them at a time of crisis to serve somewhere would be too hard to bear, he says. He started hiding two days before the first NATO missile struck -- after a midnight knock on the door by military policemen. His first safe haven was a neighbor's flat. He then moved to relatives. Now, after the MPs showed up at the neighborhood air-raid shelter to look for him, he stays at an unrevealed ``secure location.'' He spends his days with his two children at a city park, always keeping an eye out for white-belted military police. Long, monotonous nights are spent ``reading a lot, watching videos -- trying to keep from wandering around outside.'' Gagi's friends say the last two weeks have taken their toll. He looks haggard, about 10 pounds thinner and nervous, they say. In a clandestine interview at the main Belgrade square, he looks around nervously as he justifies his draft-dodging, saying that, up to now, this has been more or less Milosevic's war. ``I am not a traitor,'' he says. ``I am only scared for my children. And som
ehow, I wouldn't like to see my wife as a widow because of (Milosevic's) politics.'' Djordje has decided to stop hiding. Though a Belgrade resident for the past 14 years, the 33-year old is formally still registered with his parents in Kraljevo, 100 miles southwest of Belgrade, so that's where authorities came knocking a day or two after the attack. Although well known in the city, he moves freely around Belgrade most days, less worried about being caught and more about the friends and relatives already pressed into service. ``I feel responsible because I'm not with them,'' he says. ``As for me, if they come and handcuff me, what can I do? ``Things are bad enough. I refuse to get paranoid.''
