Chapter 1
What on earth went wrong?’ ‘How did that happen to us’? ‘Who else is still alive?’ ‘Can I survive this mess?’ These and many more questions went through his head, lying naked on a dirty floor in a mud hut, lying totally still without moving at all, because any kind of movement would bring about pain in all parts of his body; pain like he had never experienced before.
Only a few days ago Ian Devoss, 2nd Lieutenant in the South African Special Forces (Recce), had arrived in the capital of the Central African Republic. Their mission – together with other African forces - was to protect Bangui, the capital, from the Séléka coalition, a mixture of Muslim and other militia rebels. Three days ago his CO had ordered him to put a team of six men together to move toward Boda to reconnoiter the area. At that time Boda was occupied by the Séléka and since the area around Boda was diamond country it was deemed to be important and to take it back. Another part of the mission was to accompany two high ranking civilians from the Department of Defense who would come along together with a Sango speaking – a mixture of several local languages - interpreter and guide for a hush-hush meeting with some players from the opposition. They all fitted nicely into a Ratel 60 vehicle.
The following day early in the morning they were on their way. The two civilians introduced themselves as Mr. Mkhele and Mr. Fisher, but then kept quiet throughout the trip and so did the guide. One of them only asked Ian if he spoke French; he lied and said no.
The trip to Boda should be just about four to five hours with the good speed they were driving. There was no enemy in sight when the guide said to Mkhele ‘Ici nous devons éteindre’ – here we have to turn off – and Ian instructed Thabo, the driver, to do so. Now they were no longer on a road, just on a path through some bush and steppe interspersed with woodland. Not ideal for an ambush and therefore the Recce were quite relaxed. The direction to Boda was kind of ok and by Ian’s estimate it should be just about an hour or so away. The team – Thabo, a warrant officer, Phumlani, Lelothando, Mivuyo, Litha, all sergeants, and Ian - chatted among themselves in isiZulu and their three guests just dozed. The squad consisted of men who often had worked together on various missions – overt and covert ones. It was, however, only the second time that Ian was in charge of them. In all previous ones, it was Thabo or Litha who had been in command. In the Special Forces rank alone does not count for much; it is experience and knowledge of the given circumstance that matter.
All of a sudden Thabo, who drove the Ratel, said ‘Quaphela!’ – watch out – and slowed the vehicle. A few hundred meters ahead was a small koppie (hill) with thick bush and a few trees and behind it some huts of a small village. A Toyota land cruiser was parked there and two men with AK47s next to it. Mkhele said ‘They are for us; stop the car and give us protection.’ Mkhele, Fisher and the interpreter stepped out; Ian, Lelo, Mivuyo and Litha took up positions to the left and right of the Ratel; Phumlani took the position in the turret and Thabo stayed at the wheel. Fisher, Mkhele and the interpreter walked up to the men and started talking with them.
A few minutes later they came back and told them to follow the Toyota. However, the good vibe from earlier on was gone. Ian felt in his guts that something had to be wrong and he saw it also on his comrades that they had become wary. When they arrived at this tiny village and stopped, everyone had their Heckler & Kochs ready. Fisher, Mkhele and the guide went up to the guys in the Toyota and the team took their positions as before. Lelo said to Ian ‘It stinks here of death’ and he was right, Ian smelled it too. At the same time he became aware that there were no other people in this village. Then Ian observed the men from the department walking with the men from the Toyota into one of the huts and they all came out again after a short while. Mkhele was carrying a bag that he didn’t have before and came to the Ratel together with Fisher.
Fisher and Mkhele got into the vehicle, indicating to Ian to wait outside. All of a sudden a shot fell and then many more in quick succession. Ian felt a heavy punch in his back and then another one against his head and everything went blank.
When he regained consciousness, he didn’t fully wake up, he was aware that he was surrounded by men hitting him with sticks, spitting at him, kicking him. He didn’t really feel any pain - this came later – his system had shut down and he was only wondering what was going on. He became vaguely aware that a man forced himself through the crowd, shouting at them. He certainly protected Ian from being beaten to death, because somehow grudgingly the men stopped. Then he was carried to a hut, stripped and someone took care of Ian’s wounds. He cleaned them and covered them with herbs.
’Perhaps I am not going to be killed – yet. It’s a comforting thought, but on the other hand …
What is going to happen and for fuck sake what has happened and why?
And what happened to Thabo, Phumlani, Lelo, Mivuyo and Litha?
What happened to Fisher and Mkhele?
What was the whole trip about?
Is it Fisher’s and Mkhele’s own game?
And most important, was there anything that I could or should have done to prevent this bloody mess?
After all, I had been in charge. I was responsible.’
Later in the evening somebody came and brought some kind of porridge, a thick vegetable paste, and water and then Ian was left on his own and indeed managed to sleep a bit, interrupted by pain every time he moved or by the voices of the men outside the hut.
Who are they? Séléka, or anti-Balaka, their mainly Christian opponents, or just bandits?
The following day the same man came to clean and dress Ian’s wounds again and to give him food and water. Ian checked with his fingers and found that he had a wound on the side of his head – perhaps a bullet that an inch to the left would have killed him. Another bullet had gone right through his right side and exited near his stomach. This one had probably also cracked one or more ribs. Then there were a wide selection of cuts and bruises; probably the result of the beating he had received. All in all bothersome and painful, but not really life threatening.
’How do I get out of here? By car it would be about an hour or so to get to Boda. But where do I get a car and what can I do in Boda? What if Boda is still in the hand of the enemy?
Turning back towards Bangui? That’s a very long way, but I could be lucky and meet ‘friendlies’ on the way. Or I could be unlucky and get picked up by the Séléka. Hm, that wouldn’t be so good. I have the bushcraft to find my way through the bush, no problem. But am I fit enough to do it? Certainly not.’
Ian recognized that there was nothing he can do in the current situation. He had just to wait and see what was going to happen to him. As he was lying there and doing relaxation exercises, the image of the love of his life appeared before him – Jessie. He wondered how she was and if her new relationship, that began when her and Ian’s ended, was going. Is she still with him? Are they married? Children? And he thought of the time he had with her and how their romance had started. And he remembered as if it had been only yesterday.
