But only briefly. People paused for a few seconds, looked at each other, then turned back to their conversations. In the beer garden of the BiP brewery, none of the two dozen patrons got up to leave. As NATO's air campaign enters its third month tomorrow, the constant bombardment of this capital has left its 2 million residents more than war-weary. They are literally weary.
Sleep deprivation is one of the biggest byproducts of the bombing of Belgrade.
Virtually everyone complains of not having slept soundly since the bombing began March 24. The exuberant defiance shown in outdoor rallies in the early days of the bombing has been replaced by something more like groggy resignation that the war, and the widespread inconvenience and occasional violent death that goes along with it, will continue indefinitely. There is a certain routine and normality to the days, while nights are almost always accompanied by wailing air raid sirens, the hum of NATO warplanes overhead, and the booms of missiles, striking in and around the city. Aside from some isolated staples, such as sugar and cooking oil, there are no obvious food shortages. Buses and trolleys run, and they are always full, though more than half of the population is out of work.