<< Memories of another survivor
You couldn’t really see the faces of the people that I sat with. Had it been a camp fire it would have been easy but the flames and light were behind us. I sat next to a lady with dark hair, that was all I could see of her. I know she tried to reassure me that everything was going to be OK. She was one of the stewardesses and still doing her job after what had happened. I later found out she had died through her injuries.
Lights and noise were in the distance and finally I was found and taken to the ambulance. I’m sure it was a small one, not tall like ours, more like a hearse.
Laid in the ambulance, after a while, I could see us passing street lights. We were obviously at a hospital but it was very dark so I could not see the building.
There is a gap in my memory as to how I got to the next place. My clothes had been removed and I was put in a bath of what felt like boiling water. I screamed, god it hurt. I could not get out as they had put a wooden cover over the top of the bath. I guess it was their way of treating burns, by submersion.
What happened next is not clear. I woke up in bed, bandages all over, my right arm was tied to a wooden board with a drip going into my arm. I couldn’t move it was so uncomfortable.
The ward did not have any English speaking people in it. Trying to get understood was very difficult. I kept asking about my parents and where were they. Assuming they would be in the same hospital as me.
I was told they were not at that hospital. I asked them to check other hospitals, they had to be somewhere, Perhaps they were dazed and wandering around the forest still. My brain could not get over the fact no one knew of their whereabouts.
A volunteer who could speak English was “semi” assigned to me. His name was Dusan Bucar. He was very kind to me and supplied me with a local drink, Cocta, not sure that how you spell it, but it was lovely. He was quite nice as well, dark hair, about 19 ish.
I can’t remember quite how long I was in hospital for, probably only 1 to 2 weeks.
The airline company flew relatives over, but none of mine would come. Probably too frightened! Instead my best friend’s mother came to see me. This is when I got told my parents had died inside the plane.
Obviously I was very upset, near hysterics. I was informed that I would be going to live at my best friend’s house. None of my family wanted me. They were in their fifties/sixties and felt that I would be a wayward teenager and create havoc. There was already havoc in the family with the accident, they didn’t want anymore or to be constantly reminded of what happened to their sister and husband. I later found out that my cousin said she would have me however she was heavily pregnant. The “family” didn’t think it appropriate.
The 1966 Ljubljana Air Crash. 