Yugoslav War Has Victims in Southland : Conflict: L.A. area’s Croatian-Americans have staged demonstrations, written the President and Congress and mounted a massive relief effort for their homeland.

Every day in San Pedro, in a large stucco hall filled with memories of good times, scores of Croatian-Americans gather to share sad stories about the war in their homeland.

In the bright auditorium and the dimly lit lounge of Croatian Hall, they talk about what has happened to their republic and to loved ones such as Ante Rogic.

Rogic was a 17-year-old soldier in Yugoslavia when the war began in July, said his cousin, Susy Smith of San Pedro. He was tortured and killed in his hometown of Skabrnje for refusing to join the Yugoslav army’s crackdown on Croatia’s bid for independence, she said.

“When they brought his body home, our custom is to have an open casket,” Smith said. “But this time, (we) didn’t.”

The story of Ante is one of many told in San Pedro, where California’s largest enclave of Croatian-Americans has mobilized to help their homeland survive a civil war that so far has claimed thousands of soldiers and civilians on both sides of the conflict.

While most Americans are gripped by the economic recession, the dismantling of the Soviet Union or events in the Middle East, an estimated 20,000 Croatian-Americans who live in the Harbor area are consumed by a war that is killing relatives and reducing Croatian towns to rubble.

“This has taken over our whole community,” said Sylvana Gusich of the Croatian National Assn., a 51-year-old Los Angeles group that serves as an umbrella organization for Croatian clubs in Southern California. “Everyone is involved.”

On one front, area Croatian-Americans have fought for public attention and political action to help family members and friends still living in the republic of 5 million people, where war broke out only two days after Croatia’s June 25 declaration of independence.

Since the fighting erupted, hundreds of Harbor-area Croatian-Americans have staged demonstrations in downtown Los Angeles, held candlelight vigils in San Pedro, and mounted huge letter-writing campaigns to the White House and Congress.

At the same time, the Croatian-American community has coordinated a massive assistance effort in which nearly 400 tons of food, clothing and medical supplies have been shipped to Croatia from the Port of Los Angeles. Thus far, organizers say, the shipments have included an estimated $2.5 million in food and $2 million in medical supplies.

And the relief efforts are growing, they say. Larger shipments are being readied and new programs are being launched, including Croatian Mother, which encourages area residents to render aid to children orphaned by the war.

“When we started, it was like anything new. It took some time to get organized,” said Mario Juravich, San Pedro field deputy to Los Angeles Councilwoman Joan Milke Flores. “But now, we feel we are organized and contributing.”

At Croatian Hall in San Pedro, scores of Croatian-Americans huddle quietly each night to organize the relief efforts and coordinate demonstrations, or just listen to radio dispatches about the war that pits the republic and its quest for independence against the Yugoslav national guard and other forces determined to keep Croatia in check.

Like all civil wars, this one is steeped in history and conflict: Croatia attempting to break free after years of Communist rule, a Yugoslav military determined to keep the republics together amid fears that Serbians in Croatia will suffer if it becomes independent.

And as in all wars, the conflict in Croatia has its innocent victims, the ones whose stories are often told at Croatian Hall.

“When I was in Zagreb,” Walter Lonza told several friends on a recent evening, “I saw three little kids in sweaters standing outside, and the temperature was zero. And when I walked over to give them some money, their mother started crying and I was crying too.”

Regina Herceg said her 78-year-old aunt, Ljubica Tuskan, was gunned down by a sniper as she left her home in Karlovac.

And while Yul Draskovic said he still does not know all the details, he does know that his brother, Niko, and cousin, Maria, died after their tiny town of Gruda was bombarded for days.

“I am a 66-year-old man, and I am crying,” Draskovic says.

Herceg, who is helping coordinate the relief efforts, noted that the tales of turmoil in Croatia never seem to end. “Almost every person who comes in has someone suffering at home,” she said.

Many Croatian-Americans, particularly the large number who have been loyal to the Republican Party, are upset by what they see as the Bush Administration’s lack of attention to the civil war in Croatia.

“There is a disappointment and helpless feeling among Croatian-Americans,” said Juravich, Flores’ aide. “And sometimes they feel frustrated that many countries, including the U.S., have turned their eyes away from what is happening there.”

That frustration was evident recently when more than 200 Croatian-Americans turned a San Pedro fund-raising luncheon for U.S. Sen. Arlen Specter (R-Pa.) into an emotional call for the nation’s 3 million Croatian-Americans to abandon President Bush in next year’s election unless the United States officially recognizes Croatia. The European Community this week announced it will recognize Croatia in January.

The political activism born of events in Croatia has touched many young Croatian-Americans who, like Miro Tomasevich, have never been involved in Croatian affairs.

“Now that the volcano has erupted in Croatia, we are involved,” said Tomasevich, a 21-year-old student at Cal State Long Beach, who is president of its Croatian-American Student Society.

“The most important thing in all of this is that (the war) has brought us together here,” said Felix Duhovic, president of the Croatian-American Club of San Pedro. “When you see 40 to 50 people loading containers . . . when you see all the work that is being done, it is a good feeling, it is a great feeling.”