One of them had been my platoon commander during my commando training in Marche-les-Dames, three years earlier. I remember his broad smile, his always cheerful disposition.
On the grassy plains me and my colleagues stood around the chaplain and listened to the wind describing the silence, through the waving stalks.
The entire Para Commando Regiment was present.
"Briefing!" someone shouted, somewhere. "Our COMPANY will make a landing on the Kigali airport!"
Several moments later I stood outside my little tent in my underwear, writing my number on each of my limbs with a felt-tip pen. In case they would find only an arm.
I traded any food I could spare for ammo.
I strapped my backpack on, sitting on my hands and knees with two colleagues helping me stand up. Taking small steps, we walked to the Hercules plane waiting for us with its "mouth" open. It felt as if "someone" was sitting on my shoulders.
I looked in front of me and saw the white light of a field hospital. Doctors in green aprons stood outside the operating room, applauding.
"Les Milles Collines"
The aircraft took off for a one-hour flight from Nairobi to Kigali.
"ONE MINUTE!" the loadmaster shouted and the Hercules made an incredible dive. I was hanging in the nets, watching a chain securing the armoured vehicle next to me with one finger. The Hercules landed, opened its cargo door and we stepped outside. I fell forward, pushed myself back up again and looked behind me. Our plane had left again.
I found myself in the middle of the runway of the Kigali airport. All around me I saw steep hills covered with fields and forests. "Les Milles Collines".
In the distance I heard a "donk" and closer to me a "kratzz". The airport was under mortar fire.
We will: Take and secure the " Stade National". Expect resistance at the points indicated with a square. Our alternative objectives are: the "Hotel Milles Collines, the Notre Dame College, the Unicef Hotel and the Ecole de Boige."
On a photocopy of the Kigali (Rwanda) city map I had drawn my objectives with a ballpoint pen, during our briefing in Nairobi (Kenya).
"United Nations protect 20,000 scared refugees".
De Morgen, April 15, 1994.
[Thank you, Roos, for finding the article.]
15,000 to 20,000 refugees have gathered at various locations in Kigali. They are Tutsis terrified of drunken Hutu soldiers, as well as Hutus running from the war. The largest concentration of refugees is found in the national soccer stadium of Kigali, halfway between the airport and the CND hill.
An estimated 5,000 Rwandans sought refuge there.
"You can imagine what will happen to the protection mission if the Belgians pull out", says a UN official.
There I was in the background, holding my radio. Soon, I would leave our bivouac and complete my mission. We were only waiting for the order to be given.
Do something
All of a sudden, a women stood in the middle of our bivouac, gesturing as if someone had thrown a bucket of water at her: "What the hell are you standing here?" she yelled. Her desperation stared me straight in the eyes. She begged: "People are being massacred a hundred metres from here, do something!"
"What was I doing there?"
I had woken up in Antwerp with the morning news: "Ten former colleagues killed." An hour later the news was broadcasted again and again and again...
I then called my company commander: "Could I still come?" I asked. I hadn’t been in active duty since January and was no longer drafted. But our company needed a team leader, so I could join, as a volunteer.
I left home without telling my wife the reason why. In Somalia I received parcels from her for four months, as a sort of lifeline to reality. And I wrote her a short letter with the fake message: "They drafted me again." And left without considering what this meant for her.
"What was I doing there?"
In Marche-les-Dames I had been trained in the winter of '91 to operate behind enemy lines. Now I was well armed and motivated and standing in Kigali (Rwanda) holding a city map I had drawn squares and circles on, ready to do "something".
But I did nothing.
I did not make "safe havens" for the Rwandans. I did not assault any objectives or defend them to the last man.
I could have deserted. Maybe I could have convinced some of my colleagues. We could have liberated a school. Just one school or a church or a family.
But I just stood there and did nothing.
nothing