It was a successful meeting; but I was particularly glad to see my old policemen, who offered to take and defend the port for us as we pulled out, if we could give them ammunition, guaranteeing we’d have no problems there. Despite opposition from our political side, who shared the UN’s distrust of the Somali police, I gave them the ammo. I knew they were anxious to prove once again that our faith in them had not been misplaced.

They lived up to their word; the port area was never a problem for us as we pulled out.

Another encouraging development at the meeting came from Aideed’s onetime financier, Osman Atto. After his release from the UN’s island prison, Atto had a falling-out with Aideed and then carved out his own faction and militia. Now, during the meeting, he offered to help with security. I took him up on his offer a few days later, when a particularly nasty armed gang outside the main gate of the airport started giving the Pakistanis trouble. They subsequently shot up an Italian news crew and killed the photographer. I called Osman, who rolled out his super-technicals (big, military-type trucks armed with heavy crew-served weapons such as quad fifty antiaircraft guns) and engaged the rogue militia. After a fierce fight, his troops defeated the bad guys and drove them from the area, and then took control of the gate area.

Later, I had to ask him to pull his super-technicals out of there, since they made our helo guys nervous. Osman gladly complied.

As the meeting was breaking up, an old militia leader remained seated, staring grief-stricken out over the devastated city and the piles of abandoned UN material around the port and airport. “A lot of resources and lives have been wasted,” he told me, his face close to tears. “For what? We’ll be abandoned by the world and left on our own to suffer more years of killing and devastation.”

I didn’t have much hope to offer him as he left.

ON THE twenty-eighth of February, we began the fourth phase—the final withdrawal.

That morning, we took control of the port; and the UN contracted ships which were to evacuate the Bangladeshi Battalion arrived. The condition of the ships was appalling. Yet when I raised this issue back up the line, I was told that they were the best available. Still, I was bothered that these fine soldiers were subjected to such horrible conditions. The Pakistanis, it turned out, were going to get a worse deal.

Appalling conditions or no, the Bangladeshis began their move out.

As they were boarding the ships, we began to receive sporadic firing at our positions guarding the port, and the crowds at the gate started to get more restless, hostile, and threatening.