Bulgarian pilot above the Pristina Airport

Written for Kosovo Online by Muharem Bazdulj

During the nearly two years he spent in Berlin as the ambassador of the Kingdom of Yugoslavia—from the second half of April 1939 to the first half of April 1941—Ivo Andric managed to meet some of the most important Germans of the twentieth century.

Among them were Germany’s most influential modern jurist, Carl Schmitt, and one of the most significant twentieth-century writers, Ernst Jünger. Both Schmitt and Jünger were fascinated by a detail from Serbian epic poetry that Andric shared with them: the verse in which Prince Marko laments having slain Musa Kesedzija, “a better man than himself.” After the war, Jünger wanted to correspond with Andric, but Andric was not interested. Both men lived long lives, although Jünger lived significantly longer-Andric to the age of 82, and Jünger to an astonishing 102. Near contemporaries (Jünger was seven years older), both were conscripted during World War I. Andric spent most of the war in prison, hospital, and house arrest, while Jünger served on the front lines. He was noted for his bravery, received the highest military decorations, and once remarked that a very long life is a reward for those who did not care much for life and risked it often.

I remembered this story when I saw a memorial plaque on a building in downtown Sofia, commemorating that a military pilot named Petar Manolev (1915–2013) once lived there. The man nearly reached 100, despite having one of the riskiest professions in the world. The plaque states that Colonel Manolev was a victor in the air defense of Sofia during the Anglo-American bombing in 1944.

Apparently, while Bulgaria was still part of the Axis powers, Manolev distinguished himself in combat against American planes. He is believed to have personally shot down some of them, including a four-engine Flying Fortress on August 17, 1944. His plane was damaged in the engagement, and he was wounded, yet he managed to make a forced landing without navigation equipment. Records state that shrapnel was removed from his body without anesthesia. Barely three weeks later, Bulgaria switched sides in the war, and Manolev began fighting against the Germans. He reportedly distinguished himself again-particularly during an attack on the airfield near Pristina. In socialist Bulgaria, his career initially progressed rapidly; later, he was briefly imprisoned, discharged from the military, and spent the rest of his long life in other occupations.

What’s interesting is that Bulgaria institutionally remembers him primarily as a hero for shooting down American planes during the 1944 bombing of Sofia.

In this brief biography, what intrigued me most was Manolev’s role in the wartime air mission near the Pristina airport. I tried to dig a bit deeper into that detail of his life. The event occurred in November 1944. The broader historical context is the so-called “Kosovo Operation,” which officially lasted from October 15 to November 22, 1944. At that time, Bulgaria had already left the Axis and joined the Anti-Fascist Coalition. The Red Army had been advancing unstoppably from the east for months. The Germans sought to preserve their communication lines linking their forces in Greece with Central Europe. The Soviets, Yugoslav partisans, and their allies aimed to sever those lines. That was the essence of the “Kosovo Operation.” On one side were the Yugoslav partisans, the Red Army supported by Bulgarian troops, and Albanian communist guerrillas; on the other were the Germans and the Ballists.

The operation began with an offensive by forces from Bulgaria on Kursumlija on October 15. Alongside the 17th Brigade of the 24th Serbian Division of the Yugoslav People’s Liberation Army, they forced the Germans to retreat by the next day. From there, the liberation forces advanced daily. The operation effectively ended with the liberation of Pristina on November 19 and of Kosovska Mitrovica three days later. All branches of the military took part, including aviation. Bulgarian airmen bombed the airport near Pristina, and Peter Manolev distinguished himself in that mission. Thus, he played a part in the grand operation to liberate Kosovo and Pristina.

As far as I could verify, there was not much media coverage marking the anniversary of Kosovo’s liberation, even in today’s Pristina-based media. The current Pristina culture of remembrance, to put it mildly, does not focus much on the “Kosovo Operation.” An airport named “Adem Jashari” is unlikely to ever be renamed “Peter Manolev,” but it would be interesting to know whether anything in today’s Pristina bears the name of one of the liberators from the “Kosovo Operation.”