By Danica Kirka
CHECKPOINT 75, Yugoslavia — The only cold war that matters at this remote outpost of Kosovo is the fight to stay warm in the bracing wind sweeping across the untilled fields.
Here at Checkpoint 75, about 30 miles southeast of Pristina, Kosovo's capital, Russian and U.S. soldiers work side by side in temperatures below freezing at a crossing into the boundary region between Kosovo and the rest of Serbia, Yugoslavia's larger republic.
The symbolism of having two of the world's most powerful former enemies taking on any task together is important in Kosovo, where the province's ethnic Albanians and Serbs live separate lives seared by segregation and hatred.
If the Americans and the Russians can manage to cooperate, these soldiers say, so can the people of Kosovo.
"All of my soldiers grew up toward the end of the Cold War," said Lt. John Mini, 24, of Redding, Calif. "I don't think any of us grew up thinking we'd work hand-in-hand with the Russians."
The soldiers here screen cars and trucks going in and out of Kosovo, primarily hoping to stop the flow of arms and other supplies to ethnic Albanian rebels operating just outside the province's boundary with the rest of Serbia. The rebels want independence, hoping to unite predominantly ethnic Albanian villages in southern Serbia with Kosovo.
The area on the other side of the boundary is one of the tensest flashpoints in the Balkans. Putting dozens of soldiers on a main road leading to that zone is one way to deter the weapons flow from Kosovo.
The soldiers say they are making sure nothing gets through their checkpoint, but it's clear they have some communication troubles. Even so, Sgt. Christopher West of Leesville, La., insists they find a way.
"We really do," he said. "We use hand signals."
And when the road is clear, they try talking about other stuff, too. But it is not really clear how much chatting can go on. After all, once you've exhausted the subjects of weather, family and gun capability, there's not too much else to say.
Commerce, however, has proven to be the great unifier. Of particular desire to American soldiers are the big blue hats the Russians wear. The Americans call them "babushkas" and have been asked for CD players and police-style flashlights in exchange.
The Russians also like the wet weather gear the Americans use, but no one has been known yet to trade that away.
"Yeah, I want one, God," said West when asked if he had gotten his babushka yet. He had not, apparently having decided he'd rather be dry.
Though other checkpoints have flashier names like "Terminator," Checkpoint 75 has become the picture of cooperation between the NATO-led nations trying to keep the peace here. NATO has been in control of Kosovo since the 1999 alliance air war, which led to the ouster of forces loyal to former Yugoslav President Slobodan Milosevic.
Russians television crews, in particular, have trotted over with some regularity.
It breaks the monotony. Russian Lt. Vitali Sakhnov acts as the spokesman for his men, smiling shyly and reluctantly for the cameras.
He thinks he's got it good here and has enjoyed the chance to meet Americans — people he's heard so much about. His hopes are simple, and his message direct.
"It's very good that we work together," he said. "Both the Albanians and the Serbs see that the Americans and Russians are taking care of the future of Kosovo — and that they are doing it together."