“Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.”
From Freaking News
* * *
“In a war you see people as they really are, and the truth may be the opposite to what you would expect… When fear and hunger set in, people forgot the ties of friendship and looked out for their own families, but as fear grew, and the likelihood of dying increased, even family members could be forgotten; people then thought only of keeping themselves alive…
The parachute drops began… The only way you could know where they’d landed was the loud cracking sound of the pallet hitting the ground. And when you heard that sound, you knew that if you were ever underneath it, you’d be squashed into pate.
When you reached the pallet, there was more danger. People were desperate; they would be searching in groups, carrying knives for opening the pallets, and may be guns – and people would steal those weapons from others if they got the chance. I usually went with another girl, my friend Nermina, and we would look out for each other. Sometimes knives would slash at your fingers when you reached for the food. Two girls were shot by a man spraying bullets to keep people back; one of them never regained the use of her legs. And these people were all on the same side!…
My worst experience of the parachute drops was when a pallet landed in a large, deep, pit-like hole. I was with a group of friends and when we got to that hole and looked down, we saw a mass of people, about two hundred of them, fighting and shouting over the food… One of my friends gave me a pistol to look after while he was in the hole grabbing for food… I was on the edge of the hole…, when a man who had been running around muttering and cursing to himself suddenly produced a grenade and began waving it around. He was crazy with rage because he had missed out on the food packs.
‘I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you all you bastards,’ he shouted above the clamour of fighting. Everyone fell silent. He was just a few metres from me. I knew that man; I went to school with his daughter; and their family were distant cousins of ours. He was holding the pin of the grenade. ‘I’ll pull this. I will.’
I raised the pistol that was in my hand. ‘Move your finger and I’ll shoot you.’
‘You’ll be dead,” he said. “This grenade will kill you.’
‘I don’t care. You can kill us all but you’ll die first.’… My finger was on the trigger….
Then he turned and walked away….”