It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom,
it  was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of
incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was
the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us,
we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going
direct the other way.
A Tale of Two Pacifics
Five o’clock in the morning of a day that seemed quiet as usual. Nobody
expected at that time the terror that suddenly woke us up. We were
stunned by the screams of those who tried to flee. We heard bursts of
gunfire. With their butt rifles they knocked down the doors that we
didn’t open out of fear. It was madness. Confused we screamed and
ran because we saw men armed to the teeth. . . .  “The paras have ar-
rived,” one of the armed men shouted. That was when we realized who
it was. . . .  We were all surprised by this tragedy. The victims were
paraded through the village in underwear; they were brutally beaten,
hands tied behind their backs, and then they were taken away and dis-
appeared. Those of us who could see what was happening, we managed
to jump into the river and hide among the reeds. We stayed for two
days submerged with the water up to our necks, without food, desper-
ate. . . .  At 8 am he li copters of the Army’s Boltígero Batallion arrived.
They circled over the village and then dropped off troops. We were still
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