Dirty work

Democratic Republic of Congo

This week I joined United Nations forces in the Congo for an offensive against rebel militias. ‘We’re the only ones who want to fight,’ said the South African colonel, cussing the other blue helmet contingents. ‘They’re too scared to go forwards and I’m tired of it.’ Pakistanis bombarding the opposite hillside with mortars wanted to leave the dirty work to the Congolese government forces. ‘Good shot!’ exclaimed the Pakistani major each time a mud hut got blown to bits a mile off. An Indian helicopter gunship circled at altitude, too high to fire its rockets. ‘Nobody wants to die for the Congolese,’ an Indian told me later. Congolese troops, stoned on huge quantities of dope and maize beer, set off from our position. Within an hour, small arms fire was crackling across the ridge. We were able to determine the government army’s advance by fires billowing up from the militia-occupied villages.