The grim hunt continues this weekend. People from one village shot, their bodies dumped in remote hillside ravines now rigged with landmines. They were the innocents -- unarmed men, pregnant women, children -- and for their innocence they paid with their lives.
But these days, weeks after war's end, the innocents are still suffering at Pristina Hospital, reports CBS News Correspondent Barry Petersen.
Ibadete Thaqi has a smile as radiant as a summer sunrise, even after losing her legs in an explosion. "I feel so bad," she says, "I can't walk."
Serbs burned out the family house, and inside left one more surprise, two booby-trapped landmines.
Her aunt, Kimete, stays close. "I hate the Serbs," she says, "they have no heart. Look what they did."
But Ibadete is resilient; the next moment eagerly sharing her love of science and her future plans. "To walk again," she says, "to finish school, to become a doctor."
The hospital staff are almost all Albanians; the Serb doctors and nurses fled. When the Serbs left, they took not just their medical expertise, but also the hospital supplies. So now this is a place with many people in need, and very little to give them.
Nowhere are the innocents so defenseless as here, in the newborn intensive-care ward. It lacks water, antibiotics, even diapers. Sometimes there's a miracle; one little girl's life was saved.
Sometimes, there's hopelessness. Baby Mustafa, born a month premature, needs oxygen to live, but that's another thing this ward doesn't have.
"If this baby does not get much oxygen, he will die," says a nurse. "No hope, there is no hope."
The war is over, and still the innocents suffer.