Brezovica Spomen-Park, Sisak, Croatia
Designed by Želimir Janeš, 1981
A giant elm tree stood in the forests of Brezovica near the town of Sisak in Croatia. It raised so high above the other trees that it was a landmark everyone in Sisak knew.
On June 22, 1941, the day Axis forces launched their attack on the Soviet Union, a small group of communist activists fled from town and met underneath the elm tree to form what was later called "The 1st Sisak Partisan Detachment."
History will later unroll two narratives- one saying this was the first-ever partisan group and the beginning of the armed resistance to Axis forces in occupied Europe. The other will mark the rebellion that took place on July 27 that year, in the village of Srb, as the act that marks the beginning of it all.
After the war, with the formation of Tito's Yugoslavia, July 27th was declared the General People's Uprising Day in Croatia, and the events in Sisak were largely ignored and forgotten. The modest sign that was fixed under the giant elm tree was destroyed over the years and only in the late 1970s after the giant elm tree collapsed, did the people of Sisak decide to build a Spomenik in remembrance of the 1st detachment.
Croatian architect Želimir Janeš designed this Spomenik in the shape of an elm tree. A giant concrete trunk, colored white, in the middle of the forest, where the old elm tree used to stand.
In the center of the sanctum of the trunk, he placed a large bronze fist, and additional fist-shaped plaques were attached to the wall engraved with the names of local fighters and victims.
But history is merciless and troubled times passed over the Sisak Spomenik as it was neglected, deserted, and vandalized during the 80s and the Yugoslav wars. The bronze fist was stolen, and the monument started falling apart.
In 1991, the parliament of independent Croatia declared June 22 as the National Anti-Fascist Struggle Day, replacing Tito's July 27th day, and in later years the Spomenik was fixed. Annual memorial ceremonies started taking place there.
When I visited the Spomenik on June 20, the preparations for the ceremony had already started, and a police officer stopped me to interrogate what am I doing with a camera in the middle of the forest. I told him about my quest to photograph the Spomeniks. It took a while until he was convinced that it was ok to let me go.
The impressive 14-meter-high concrete monument stood there with all its strength. I surrounded it several times breathing the events of history, and then I entered the empty sanctum. A metal plate was fixed on the floor where the bronze fist stood, and the marks on the walls showed exactly where the plates with the victims' names were fixed.
I think this photo of that empty hall tells the story of this Spomenik more than anything else.
This and more information about the Spomenik can be found here:
https://www.spomenikdatabase.org/sisak