Another Day of Life by Ryszard Kapuściński Page A

Orange.
    The goal of the operation: to occupy Luanda by November 10, 1975 (at 1800 hours on that day, in accordance with the Alvor agreement, the last Portuguese units were to leave Angola). The next day, announce the independence of Angola, with power passing into the hands of an FNLA-UNITA coalition government.
    Coordination: a strike from the south along the Tsumeb– Pereira d’Eça–Lubango–Benguela–Novo Redondo–Luanda road. A simultaneous strike from the north along the Maquela do Zombo–Carmona–Caxito–Luanda road. A simultaneous strike from the east along the Nova Lisboa– Quibala–Dondo–Luanda road.
    Forces, southern flank: motorized units of the South African army (support: units of Portuguese volunteers, FNLA and UNITA units, the Chipenda force). Northern flank: FNLA units (support: units of the Republic of Zaïre army, units of Portuguese volunteers). Eastern flank: same as for the northern flank.
    Zero hour:—
    (Here begins a discussion in English-Afrikaans-Portuguese. Two opinions collide. One faction favors beginning the action earlier, because the enemy might put up resistance; breaking down resistance takes time and could delay the occupation of Luanda. Besides, to the degree that moving into Angola will extend the army’s supply lines for ammunition, fuel, and food, it is necessary to allow additional time. They propose Monday, October 20, for zero hour. Others contend that the operation will not take more than two weeks. In the north we are already in the suburbs of Luanda. All information indicates that the enemy will not be able to mount any resistance in the south. We’ll move quickly in Panhard armored vehicles. It is enough to calculate the driving time of these vehicles from Tsumeb to Luanda and then factor in time for the units to have meals and sleep. They contend that a zero hour of October 27 will be sufficient. The first, more cautious variant finally prevails. Even if it takes three weeks, it will be a blitzkrieg to dazzle the world.)
    Zero hour: Sunday, October 19.
    On Sundays, as I mentioned, the country is immersed in a state of nonexistence and manifests no signs of life. Today, however, informed by an incomprehensible presentiment, Comandante Farrusco has been hunting his driver Antonio since morning and in the end Antonio has appeared on his own, sleepy and unconscious with exhaustion. Farrusco orders him to get behind the wheel and in the same red Toyota jeep that I returned from Pereira d’Eça in, they drive along the road through the bush. A while later they spot something in the rays of the sun that could almost be a phantom but quickly materializes and assumes the shape of a drawn-out column of armored vehicles above which hovers a bulging, nearly motionless helicopter. Another moment and the nervous rattling of machine guns rings out. Farrusco is badly wounded, shot through the lungs. Antonio is hit in the leg but remains conscious. He backs up and rushes in the opposite direction with his severely wounded commander.
    The column moves forward toward Pereira d’Eça. The soldiers ride hidden inside the vehicles, but it must be hot and stuffy for them because—contrary to orders—here and there, in more and more of the armored personnel carriers, the hatch opens and a young, tanned face appears.
    And in Luanda? What can you do on Sunday in our abandoned city, upon which—as it turns out—sentence has already been passed? You can sleep until noon.
    You can turn on the faucet to check—ha!—just in case there is water.
    You can stand before the mirror, thinking: so many gray hairs in my beard already.
    You can sit in front of a plate on which lies a piece of disgusting fish and a spoonful of cold rice.
    You can walk, sweating from weakness and effort, up the Rua Luis de Camões, toward the airport or down toward the bay.
    And yet that’s not all—you can go to the movies, too! That’s right, because we still have a movie theater, only one in fact, but it is