The Bridge on the Drina

The lit window is Lotte’s room. Lotte has been working late into the night. She is now old and feels exhausted, struggling to make sense of the modern world. Business at the hotel has slowed. She thinks about the regulars and the staff, many of whom have moved on to new jobs. After her investments struggled, she spent two years suffering from a severe nervous breakdown. She spent a great deal on lottery tickets and won nothing. These financial struggles are mirrored by “family troubles and disappointments” (264). Those family members whom she helped earlier in life are not able to help her now, while others have not succeeded as she had hoped. One relative poisons herself, another becomes a socialist and is forced to flee to South America. Now, she is “really tired, more than anyone suspected and more than she herself knew” (267). Lotte retires to bed. 

The year 1914 is “the last year in the chronicle of the bridge on the Drina” (268). The town of Višegrad provides “a small but eloquent example of the first symptoms of a contagion which would in time become European and then spread to the entire world” (268). That summer begins well, with rich and bountiful harvests. Santo Papo, a Jewish store owner, has grown old. He evaluates a peasant’s request for a loan, their conversation meandering and genial. When they agree on the terms, Santo takes the money from his safe. When the peasant departs with his money, another man is already waiting outside “on the same errand and similar reckonings” (273).

There is a typhus outbreak that is quickly contained. The men still sit on the kapia, lit up by the newly-installed electric lights. Zorka sits silently with Nikola Glasičanin; she reflects on her relationship with Stiković, which is now resolutely over. Zorka is struggling to process her guilt and shame but her friendship with Nikola has helped to drag her out of her “hidden torment” (278). Though their first words together are still stilted and resentful, a friendship develops. However, Zorka has begun to find Nikola’s long speeches “less interesting” (279). He believes that they should leave the town; he has a friend in America who has promised him “a safe job at a good wage” (280). Zorka asks for a month to think about her answer. Secretly, she wants to see Stiković one final time before making up her mind. 

The Serbs hold “their regular outing at Mezalin” (281), a yearly summer festival with food and dancing. The celebrations are interrupted by the gendarmes; news of the assassination of Arch Duke Franz Ferdinand by a Serb sends people running home in silence. All celebrations cease; the kapia is caught in “the silence of the dead” (283). Serbs are arrested in the town and the number of guards increases. Glasičanin tells Zorka that he cannot go to America; he is needed in Serbia. Zorka weeps “with a feeling of heavy universal hopelessness” (285).

In July, the “real persecution of the Serbs” (285) begins. An armed schutzkorps squad patrols the town and rounds up any Serbs, as well as “gipsies, drunkards and other persons of ill repute” (286). When the leaders of the Serbian community protest, the local bureaucrat shrugs. The Turks in the town argue about that side to take, if any. Makeshift gallows are erected in a square and the schutzkorps hangs men from the surrounding villages. Gustav, the man who had once worked in Lotte’s hotel, drunkenly bursts through the crowd and claims to have been a German intelligence agent for 15 years. He demands the right to hang two of the men himself but is led away. An unseen army begins to shell the bridge when it is thick with men and supplies. Over the next days, more falling shells hit the river and the nearby buildings, including Lotte’s hotel. The barracks burn down, but in 10 days of shelling, no major damage is done to the bridge. 

The shelling of the bridge continues. The townspeople settle into a routine, learning when it is safe to cross. Many flee to the surrounding villages. They huddle together in crowded houses, scared but putting on brave faces. Alihodja’s home becomes crowded, particularly with children. Nine of the children belong to Mujaga Mutapdžić, a recent arrival in the town. He sits with Alihodja in the garden and speaks about his life: Ever since he was a child, he has been forced to move back and forth across the varying borders; he fought in the Turkish resistance in the Balkan Wars of 1912; then he brought his family to Višegrad, “for the third time as a refugee” (296). Less than two years later, war has broken out again. Alihodja tries to console Mujaga but is interrupted by an exchange of artillery fire.

In the home of Mihalio Ristić, “were few men but many women, whose husbands had been arrested or taken as hostages” (298). Though an old man, Mihailo tries tirelessly to console and comfort his guests with offers of plum brandy and tobacco. One woman’s husband has been shot by mistake and no one has yet told her. Mihailo recalls the events of her husband’s christening, a well-known story in the town. Many stores in the town close. Lotte and her family leave the hotel. On her first night away, Lotte’s “heart failed her” (303) and she breaks down in tears for the first time her family can remember. Her brother-in-law is forced to step in and take care of the family. A doctor diagnoses Lotte’s “complete nervous breakdown” (304); she weeps and hallucinates.

Pavle Rankovic is taken hostage, along with many other prominent Serbs. From his cell, he wonders whether one of the many shells will strike the mine hidden inside the bridge. If there is any suggestion that the bridge is about to be damaged, an officer orders, then Pavle is to be killed. Pavle reflects on the destruction of his life, which seems “like a bad dream” (306). Pavle had built himself up from nothing but scrimping and saving, never wasting his time on the kapia. Now, his life is linked inextricably to the bridge.

The soldiers search for the store owners, demanding that they open the stores so that goods can be purchased. The first store owner they find is Alihodja. Alihodja recognizes the man shouting at him, a former resident of the town. The man is too swept up in the moment and slaps Alihodja, who can only sit down in astonishment. By the end of September, the entire town is evacuated. The bridge remains, “still whole and untouched” (310). 

The Austrians withdraw out of range of the Serbian guns. As the rain falls, the final patrols check to make sure everyone has left Višegrad and “everything was as if dead” (311). The only person left is Alihodja, who sits in front of his shuttered store. They tell him to leave and Alihodja agrees. When the guards depart, he enters his store and sits alone in the little dark room, feeling the “sweetness of solitude” (312). A shell falls nearby and the store explodes, knocking Alihodja unconscious. Alihodja is awoken by a light and the sound of voices. People are calling his name. He scrambles out of the ruins of his store; a “heavy stone about the size of a man’s head” (314) has crashed through the store, a fragment of the bridge. Alihodja turns and sees man he recognizes in unfamiliar uniforms. They leave and he turns to the bridge, which has been partially destroyed. Alihodja, still in shock, begins to walk home. Halfway home, his heart begins to struggle and he has to pause. He tries to walk on, struggling, worrying about the state of the world. Overcome, he falls down and “breathed out his life in short gasps” (317).