On 17 April 1941, during the Italian occupation of Boka Kotorska, Navy lieutenants and national heroes Milan Spasić and Sergije Mašera were among the first in Boka, and likely in the entire country, to raise a voice of protest and hatred against the foreign occupiers. Driven by a profound sense of patriotism and love for their homeland and people, they mined the destroyer Zagreb of the former Yugoslav Navy and went down with it in a watery grave.
This heroic act, unparalleled in the history of our navy and beyond, will forever remain inscribed in the annals of the Yugoslav nations.
The Italian occupiers, met in this manner in Boka—a response reflecting the sentiments of the entire local population—were, from the very first moments of occupation, taken aback by such a reception. It served as a clear warning that the people of Boka Bay area would not accept foreign presence on their land and would fight against it by any means necessary, regardless of the sacrifices they might have to make.
Following the reorganisation of Boka Bay’s party structure into two local committees (for eastern and western Boka, i.e., Kotor and Herceg-Novi), efforts were made to establish military units. These included the Orjen Battalion and the Kotor Coastal Battalion of the Lovćen Detachment, formed to resist the occupiers.
Even before the national uprising, at Mihova Glavica near Tivat, Mato Petrović and Milo Vrbica were instructing that NOB (People’s Liberation Movement) committees be established in every town. Present at the meeting were Gracija Petković, Ernest Stipanić, Tonći Petković, Frano Luković, and myself (Daro Petković). Almost every town formed NOB committees, preparing for armed resistance. By October 1941, these NOB committees grew into Liberation Committees.
This structure of governance allowed for the formation of the Intermunicipal National Liberation Committee, based on the delegate system, for the entire area under the Local Committee of the Communist Party of Yugoslavia (KPJ) for eastern Boka. It encompassed the regions of the present-day municipalities of Kotor and Tivat.
The 13 July Uprising in Montenegro led to a wave of repression by the Italian occupiers, who, on 18 October 1941, executed a group of patriots and communists in Skaljari and, similarly, patriots in Orahovac.
The armed actions of the Orjen Partisan Battalion and the Naval Battalion, especially the battle in Paštrovići-Pobori above Budva in East Boka, provoked the Italian forces into mass arrests of Boka’s patriots. Those detained were imprisoned in Kotor or held on a ship in the Kotor Bay, later interned in the Mamula and Prevlaka camps, and some sent to Italian camps.
Today, 45 years later, it is very difficult to speak about memories of prison and camp life. However, I will try to recall some real and truthful facts, for which I consulted several comrades who were with me in the prison in Kotor and in internment on Mamula, including Ernest Stipanić, Veljko Korać, Tripo Nikolić, Miroslav Slaby, Baro Vukasović, and others, who will help supplement my account.
As an activist of the People's Liberation Movement (NOP) and secretary of the People's Liberation Committee in Tivat, the Carabinieri surrounded my house in Tivat on 3 April 1942, arrested me, chained me, and took me to the Carabinieri station in Tivat. I was held there for two days and interrogated.
The interrogation questions led me to suspect that the Italians had considerable information on my activities and those of other NOP activists, likely obtained through collaborators. In Tivat’s Carabinieri station, I found fellow detainees Tripo Nikolić and Miro Slaby. The interrogation involved considerable mistreatment by the Carabinieri. Alongside Nikolić and Slaby, I was transferred to the Carabinieri station in Skaljari, Kotor, and handed over to the notorious lieutenant, Tenente Cangido Mario, known among us as the “Black Knight” due to his reputation. We were confined in the station’s basement, a windowless space where air entered only through a tiny opening, roughly 10 cm in diameter. I remained in the cell for nine days, as far as I can recall. We were not given any water, but a young boy, whom the Italians kept to perform various menial tasks in the basement, brought us water in a bottle and poured it into our mouths through a small opening in the door. After this period, I was transferred to the main Kotor prison and was brought back three times to the Carabinieri station in Skaljari for further questioning by the “Black Knight” and other Carabinieri. I was astounded by the detailed, accurate information they had on my and my comrades’ NOP activities. They even knew specific dates, such as when the clandestine Liberation Committee was formed. I was accused of participating in various actions, and about half of the information they had was, in fact, correct.
Before my arrest, I worked as a shipbuilder at the Tivat Naval Arsenal. However, this job was mainly a cover, allowing me to work with the NOP. I was often absent from my duties to complete NOP assignments. Fortunately, the foreman, Vinko Grubišić, vouched for my presence at work, along with Mato Fanfat, Felić Grandis, and others, which was helpful when the “Black Knight” received reports that I was indeed working at the Arsenal on the days in question.
Since then, I was no longer summoned for questioning, and I remained in the Kotor prison.
From the prison in Kotor, I was transferred to the Questura for interrogation. To my astonishment, I encountered Marko Maslovar there, who had carried out a daring act against the enemy—an operation I was aware of. I feared that Marko might have confessed something about his or my involvement in the People's Liberation Movement (NOP). However, he displayed truly heroic conduct, both during the interrogation and later in prison and the Mamula camp. I would gladly write a detailed report on the heroic deeds of Marko Maslovar, highlighting both his defiance before the occupiers and his participation in countless armed actions in the struggle against them. If the Historical Institute were to accept it, I would be more than willing to compose such a report. During my eight days in Kotor, I saw through the prison window that the Carabinieri had detained the entire clandestine Liberation Committee from Tivat and the local youth leadership. They held them on the second floor, so I could not make contact. I asked Todor Vukčević, a prisoner from Budva who distributed food and cleaned the stairs in the prison, to deliver a letter to Đuro Vuksanović, a member of the clandestine People's Liberation Committee, which he did. In the letter, I informed Vuksanović that during the interrogations, I had not confessed anything about my work for the People's Liberation Movement (NOP), even though the Italians seemed to have some information about it. I asked him to share this with the entire group working with him. None of those interrogated admitted anything, and all the members of the clandestine committee were released and sent home after eight days. The youth committee members, Srećko Radošević and Tripo Erceg, were released a month later. The release of all these comrades, except for me, was the result of their strong conduct and refusal to disclose anything about their clandestine activities to the occupiers. In my cell in Kotor, I was with Ernest Stipanić, Božo (Pasko Ćupić’s brother), Tripo Erceg, Srećko Radošević, Niko Rizoniko, and a criminal named Ivo P. Brkan from Bogdašići. In 1941, he shot and killed his wife, Anđa, née Petković, using a pistol, precisely at a time when the Partisans in the area had carried out several armed actions against collaborators. He assumed this crime would be attributed to the Partisans. The murdered woman was a supporter of the People's Liberation Movement (NOP), as was her entire family by kinship. We were all wary of this criminal, and we often resorted to joking with him to prevent him from suspecting anything about our work for the NOP and reporting it to the occupiers. While staying in the Kotor prison, I noticed that one prisoner was kept alone in a cell and had a bed. He was sewing clothes on a sewing machine. This seemed suspicious to me, so I asked fellow prisoner Đorđe Vukasović, known as Baro, about who this man was. I was told that he was Krsto Crnogorčević, a party leader of the Orjen Battalion, and that we should all be wary of him because he was a collaborator with the occupiers and had betrayed everyone. I, along with the other comrades in my cell, spread the word to the other prisoners to stay cautious of Crnogorčević.
At the end of May 1942, as I recall, came our first internment transfer from Kotor to Mamula. I was taken with Đorđe “Baro” Vukasović, Petar Ćorić, Gajo Vrbica, Slavenko Smodlaka, and approximately 18–20 other comrades. On Mamula, we joined four comrades already there: Andrija Marinić, Andrija Milutinović, Jozo A. Petković, and Branko Radanović. The conditions were severe, with only a bare straw mat per person and no straw. The cell was damp, making sleep nearly impossible.
In the cell on Mamula, Baro Vukasović, along with Gajo Vrbica, Petar Ćorić, and others, held a discussion without my involvement. After the conversation, Baro informed me that we had established a collective leadership (initially a friendly collective, which later, upon the arrival of comrades from the Orjen Battalion, radio operated under party leadership) and that I had been chosen as the leader of the collective. I was unsure what this entailed, so he explained that we would all live collectively in the cell. From then on, when a package arrived for a prisoner from home, it would no longer be received by the individual but by me, as the collective leader. I would then distribute all the food equally among everyone in the cell. I accepted the responsibility entrusted to me and ensured that all food was shared equally among the prisoners in our cell.
Every day when we received our rations in formation, a duty officer would shout "Viva il Duce," a expecting us to respond "A noi." However, none of us were willing to say it aloud. Instead, we uttered various words contrary to what was demanded. Some would simply say "Baa," while others would silently mouth words. After the Orjen Partisan Battalion was disbanded in late May 1942, many of its fighters were captured by the occupiers. Most were sent to trial in Kotor and then interned on Mamula. With their arrival, our NOP (People’s Liberation Movement) work and collective spirit among the internees intensified.
I would like to particularly highlight that shortly before the Italian capitulation, around June 1943, while in internment on Mamula, I met comrades Ernest Stipanić, Veljko Korać, Mitar Vuksanović, Baro Vukasović, Vuko Vuksanović, and many others. They once again entrusted me with the role of collective leader (this was a party directive), assigning me the responsibility of distributing food sent in parcels from home.
The internees on Mamula learned of the capitulation of fascism in Italy, which gave them a renewed sense of courage. After the fall of fascism, the Vučković brothers, factory owners from Kotor, sent a large quantity of food to the internees on Mamula. Knowing that this food came from former enemies of the people, we, despite being weakened by hunger, firmly refused to accept it. However, there were individuals who did accept the food, and some of them later joined the Chetniks after leaving Mamula. Among these internees was the notorious Ilija Odalović from Krivošije, who, despite receiving food from the collective parcels while on Mamula, was already known to us as a member of the Chetnik organisation. After his release from the camp in December 1943, as part of the Vučedol Brigade, he came to my house, inquiring about me and asking my mother where the collective leader from Mamula was. In a "gesture" of attention towards me, Odalović brutally beat my mother and broke her arm.
In September 1943, around the time of Italy's surrender, it became clear that something significant was happening. We saw gunfire from Obosnik’s battery aimed at Prevlaka, and bullets flying overhead. Initially, we thought the Germans were firing on Prevlaka’s internees and would soon open machine-gun and artillery fire on us at Mamula. The situation among us grew tense, especially once we learned through our network that the Germans had indeed occupied Prevlaka while Italians still held Obosnik. During this time, Baro Vukasović, along with Mitar and Vuko Vuksanović, appointed a delegation that included myself, Ernest Stipanić, and Veljko Korać, to negotiate with the Italian commander of Mamula for our release. The camp was divided by a barbed-wire fence, so I approached a guard and requested that he inform the commander, who was in the other part of the camp, to come for discussions. The next day, the commander arrived with four soldiers carrying submachine guns, asking who had summoned him. Ernest Stipanić, Veljko Korać, and I stepped forward. We informed him that Italy as a state had capitulated and that there was no reason to keep us in captivity any longer, urging him to release us. The camp commander did not give us any response but simply left. I didn’t want to go. My comrades and I were convinced that I would be executed. However, at that moment, Mitar Vuksanović gave me the greatest courage by saying: “Daro, if they kill you, they’ll kill all of us too—you must go!” I stepped out of the cell, which housed 40–50 comrades, and slowly walked towards the camp commander. When I reached the wire fence, the commander and four Carabinieri greeted me in unison with “Salute.” I replied with “Zdravo,” trembling with fear. At that moment, the commander shouted at the top of his lungs: “Signor Natale, andiamo tutti uguali contra i tedeschi,” and then added, “Oggi sera siamo tutti liberi.” I responded with, “Grazie mille.”
When I returned to the cell, there was great joy among the comrades. The biggest challenge was figuring out how to inform the other part of Mamula Island. I climbed up to the guardhouse near the chimney and conveyed the news to the other group of prisoners on Mamula through hand signals. Who exactly received my message at that time, I do not know.
That evening, around 8 p.m., a ship arrived at Mamula Island. It boarded the prisoners from the eastern part of Mamula and took them across to Rose, while I remained in the western section.
During the crossing, the Germans, who had already occupied Prevlaka, shelled the boat. The ship's commander, upon reaching Rose, refused to return for the remaining prisoners. However, some comrades later recounted that the ship did indeed return to pick up those of us on the western side of Mamula. Allegedly, Vido Cvjetković pulled out a pistol and forced the ship's commander to return to Mamula and take on the second group of internees, which he ultimately did. How Vido Cvjetković came into possession of the pistol, and whether he had it with him on Mamula, is something that others will need to clarify, as I was not in his part of Mamula at the time.
The next morning, around 3 am, the boat arrived at Mamula, and we all boarded. This time, we didn’t head to Rose; instead, we disembarked at Žanjica and scattered to reach our homes in Boka and beyond. Ernest Stipanić, Veljko Korać, and I travelled by boat from Krašić to Tivat.
I reiterate that the camp on Mamula was split into two sections.
Due to the camp’s restrictive conditions, I can't speak for the other section, but those who were there can certainly recount their experiences.
