The hut seemed much bigger inside, a dark cavern that receded into nothingness. As I came further in, I was conscious of light, and with a start realized it was eyes: the whites of dozens of eyes staring at me from the silent gloom. The men were stick-thin. Their uniforms, if you could call them that, consisted of torn T-shirts and sweaters dyed green, and trousers that could barely hold themselves together. The women wore ragged cotton sheets and little else, their breasts bare and their ribs exposed so much it almost hurt to look. But it was the children that sent a shiver through me. Naked and pot-bellied, they stood there silently as the rain roared outside, calmly looking at the strangers entering.

‘Nobody shoot,’ said Gunner. But his men were frozen.

‘The camera,’ Isabelle whispered to me urgently. Perhaps Gunner’s words had made her think of it. ‘Give it to me now.’

And while we all just stood there, I handed it over and she crouched down on one knee and began photographing the scene, the sound of the shutter almost obscenely loud.

‘Who is your leader?’ said Gunner.

After a few moments, a stoop-shouldered old man shuffled forward.

‘We just want food,’ he said. ‘We are all hungry.’

Isabelle stopped her clicking.

‘We must take them back to the plane,’ she said. ‘We must help them.’

Gunner didn’t say anything for a long time. Then he nodded, and we started taking them out.

‘Order, order!’ shouted Gunner from his position at the head of the aircraft. ‘Now listen, men. I am glad to report that our reconnaissance mission has been a tremendous success.’

I saw a couple of the group glance at each other. There were now eighteen more bodies in the plane, and they were the enemy to boot.

‘We are very close to a town that has recently fallen to our side,’ Gunner continued. ‘This is good news.’ He looked out at us, and seemed to lose his train of thought for a moment. ‘This is good news,’ he stressed. ‘This means our soldiers must be close by. Divisional HQ must not be far away. When morning comes, we go locate the HQ and proceed to Port Harcourt. We move at first light. In the meantime, please look after our . . .’ He looked around at the Biafrans hopelessly, searching for the right word. ‘Our guests. Keep them warm. Pass around blankets and cushions. Share your rations with them, please - there will be plenty of food tomorrow.’