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F.

William Jung 128,531


Words

200 Cypress Hill Drive 424


Pages

Pittsburgh, PA 15235

(412) 795-3158

KATANGA

by

F. William Jung

(Copyright 1980)
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-2-

PROLOGUE

He pushed the Mercedes 220 to it's limit, muscling the stick up and down through
the

gears and jamming his foot down on the accelerator to get maximum speed from each.
Swerving

through and around the mass of vehicles and people heading in the opposite direction he
strained

to see if any of the faces or cars looked familiar. The closer he got to the Katangese
border the

more congested it became and he was forced to leave the road a number of times to get
past. His

car was the only one going in a northerly direction.

He pulled up to Chingola on the Katanga/Northern Rhodesia border and it looked as


if the

whole world had gone mad. Europeans and Blacks alike were trying to cross over from
the

Katangese side. He knew that there was a chance that Stephanie and the girls could be
part of that

stream of refugees pouring south. He yelled his way through the barriers on both sides of
the

frontier and they let him through quickly, more because they were astonished at the
direction he

was taking than anything else.

Now in Katanga, the road was choked with humans and vehicles of every size and
shape.

The dust was so thick it filled his nose and eyes and he had difficulty seeing just a few
feet ahead.
He bounced alongside the road more than on it but now there was the occasional military
vehicle

moving in the same direction he was going, some containing white mercenaries.

He had been following a large military truck full of Katangese troops for some
distance

when it suddenly stopped, blocking the road ahead of him. He was just a few miles
outside

Elisabethville. Braking to a stop he stepped out and walked around the truck to a
roadblock

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-3-

where more troops were checking out a truck and it's contents. As the truck pulled away
he got

back into his car and drove up to three black soldiers blocking the road. A white
mercenary,

lieutenant's insignia on his camouflaged battle fatigues, stood off to the side of the road
watching.

No one was stopping the thousands heading south to Rhodesia. One of the soldiers
stepped up to

the window.

"Papers please," he shouted above the noise.

Matt handed him his I.D. card and the soldier glanced at it, automatic weapon
slung over

his shoulder, compared the photograph with Matt's face and then handed it back to him.

"Where are you going?" he yelled.

"To Elisabethville. As you can see," Matt said pointing to the card, "I live there."

"Do you know the city is under attack? We are to allow no one but military
personnel to
enter."

Matt strained to control himself. "My wife and children are there. I must get to
them!"

"I am sorry. You must turn back. I have my orders."

For a split second Matt tensed to throw the car into gear to crash though the
blockade.

The heavily armed troops gave him no chance of making it.

"But I cannot desert my family" he said, loud enough for the European officer to
hear. He

opened the door and stepped out.

"You cannot block this road, Monsieur!" the black soldier shouted. "There are
essential

military vehicles waiting behind you."

Ignoring him Matt walked the few steps to the European and holding out his I.D.
card

pleaded. "Please! I must get to my family. One more white added to those already in there
won't

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-4-

make that much difference."

The Lieutenant made no move to take the card.

"If you would just contact Captain Marcel Ivanov! He would verify who I am. He
knows

my family."

At the mention of Marcel's name Matt detected recognition. The officer hesitated,
then

took the I.D. card.


"Pull your car off to the side of the road." There was a decided German accent in
the

otherwise well-spoken French.

Matt drove the car off to the right side of the road permitting the line of waiting
trucks to

pass. The lieutenant walked a few yards to a tent just off the road and disappeared inside.
Matt

switched off the engine, got out of the car and waited.

Fifteen minutes went by, minutes that seemed as if they were hours. All the while
the

chaos of humanity flowed by in the swirling, choking dust and tumultuous noise. He
looked

intently at everything and everybody, hoping to see his family or at least someone he
knew that

might know where they were.

'How the hell could I get my family into this,' he thought. He leaned against the
car and lit

another cigarette. 'If Stephanie and the girls weren't killed by the shelling and bombing I
hope to

God they weren't taken by the Baluba or Lulua. Better they were dead than that. But
Christ, I

can't lose them! They just have to be safe somewhere and I'll find them no matter what. I
can't

believe this is happening. Everything started out so well ---------''

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-5-

CHAPTER 1

The Sabena DC-7 lifted off the runway with a roar. Matt peered intently out the
window

through the rain and fog trying to catch what parting glimpses he could of Brussels
International

Airport with it's still unfinished complex of glass and steel. Although the 1958 Brussels
World's

Fair was drawing to a close the airport modernization was still underway.

It had rained since his arrival one week ago, but this was typical Belgian weather
any time

of the year, not just October. The Brussels office had put him in the old Hotel Amigo
right in the

heart of the city just a short walk to the Grand Place. The adjacent narrow, cobblestone
side

streets were lined with cafes and restaurants that were full of the smell of cooking that
advertised

that practically every nationality was well represented.

He had tried "Moules au Vin Blanc' at Chez Leon, large mussels steamed in white
wine

and herbs accompanied by Belgian "pommes frites", thick french-fried potatoes. He


quickly

learned that the accepted manner to eat them was by using one of the shells as a clamp to
pull the

meat from the others. For some reason they seemed to taste better that way.

Afterwards he ordered "cafe filtre" as the others had, coffee served in a small
drip-style

pot that you nursed until the water dripped from the upper portion through the coffee
grounds to

the bottom portion with it's spout for pouring. A somewhat more bland taste than
American

coffee, but very good.


Then the stop at the cafe nicknamed "The Horse", located at a corner of Grand
Place,

with it's roughly hewn interior and wooden benches, heavy wooden tables and stool-like
chairs.

There was a large hood-covered fireplace in the center of the ground floor and the
balcony above

that circled the entire room was full of younger people, some of whom had no inhibitions
about

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-6-

displaying their affections for one another. The cafe had long ago been named after the
stuffed

horse that stood next to the fireplace, the result of someone's desire not to part with a
beloved

friend.

They had their "pousse-cafe", the French term for after-dinner drinks. It was the
beginning

of his acquiring a taste for cognac. Good cognac, he soon learned, was meant to
complement the

taste of good food already eaten, to be sniffed and sipped while experiencing pleasant
things and

people.

'If only I could understand and converse in the languages spoken around me,' he
thought.

Many easily slipped from one language into another with most speaking French and
Flemish, but

he heard English, German and Dutch as well. He envied their ability and display of
worldliness.

He had started an intense process of teaching himself French two months before by
borrowing
phonograph records and dictionaries from the library.

Matt's thoughts were interrupted by a more pronounced buffeting of the-then


largest and

latest long range Douglas 4-engined propeller driven plane as it began to break through
the thick

layer of clouds into clear skies. He looked out the window and shaded his eyes from the
ball of

orange fire settling into the cushion of thick gray clouds far to the west that were sinking
rapidly

as the plane continued to gain altitude. The sun was preparing for "couchez de soleil",
French for

"the sun beds down" or goes to sleep. It was a beautiful expression.

Leaving Belgian airspace the plane banked sharply to the left while still
continuing it's

climb, then leveled off. To the west the sun was now almost completely obscured by the
clouds

below. The first leg of the flight was to Barcelona, Spain where they would refuel for the
next

and longest leg to Kano, Nigeria. From there they would fly to Leopoldville, Belgian
Congo, the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-7-

country that Matt, Stephanie and their three girls would call home for the next few years.
Had he

been aware of the events that would take place during their life there he would have
undoubtedly

returned on the first available flight.

The Belgian stewardess interrupted his thoughts with the announcement, first in
Flemish
followed by French and then in English, that they could unfasten their seat belts and
smoke. As

she was making the announcement another stewardess handed out menus indicating what
was to

be served for dinner. He strained to understand the French words printed just opposite the

Flemish.

He gazed at the solid layer of clouds below that were now becoming much darker
due to

the fading daylight. Resting his head back against the seat he let his mind drift. 'This is
the first

time I've been outside The United States since my Army tour of duty in Japan just after
World

War II.'

He was aroused from a deep sleep by a lurching of the airplane followed by the
bump

of the gear as they locked down into landing position. Simultaneously the stewardess

announced that they were on final approach to Barcelona airport. After taxiing to a stop in
front

of the terminal everyone was asked to disembark for refreshments while they serviced the
plane.

On leaving each person was given a coupon for their free drink inside.

It was a long, rectangular, drab yellow building that was obviously quite old. Matt
sat

alone at one of the bare tables and drank a cold orange drink, somewhat disappointed at
the

surroundings. A short while later they were aloft again and on the long leg south over the

Mediterranean Sea and Northwest Africa to Kano in Northern Nigeria where they would
stop for
breakfast and refueling. Then on to his final destination, Leopoldville, Belgian Congo.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-8-

The seat belt light went off. He snapped off the overhead light and pushed the
back of his

seat into a more comfortable position for sleeping. It was almost midnight but he was
wide awake

in anticipation of setting foot on the African continent for the first time. Hoping to induce
sleep he

closed his eyes.

His thoughts raced back to late 1947 and those first weeks and months after his
return

from Japan and discharge from the Army. He enrolled in winter classes at Kent State
University

while working evenings and weekends as a clerk in a local trucking company. It was in
his second

year of college that he met Stephanie.

He was an usher at Barbara and Barry Jewett's wedding and Barbara introduced
them at

the reception. Matt consumed more champagne than usual but he was sober enough to
notice that

she had short blonde hair that was curled up at the ends, very fair, clear complexion,
bright blue

eyes and full lips. 'An absolutely beautiful girl,' he thought. 'Just the right height too,
say... five

feet two inches. Great figure.'

"Matt, this is Stephanie Young, a good friend of mine. Stephanie, this is Matt, the
one I

told you about." Turning to Matt, Barbara smiled. "And it was all bad."
Barbara was called away and he stood alone and weaving in front of Stephanie. He
was

conscious of the fact that he was not in complete control and his efforts to conceal it were
not

being too successful.

"You know," he said, trying to minimize the slur caused by his oversized tongue,
"she also

told me about you, but the difference is that she said nothing but nice things."

She laughed, a nice laugh, but he couldn't determine if she was laughing at what
he had

said or how he had said it. It didn't matter, so long as she continued to indicate an interest
in

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-9-

talking to him.

He had not lied. Barbara had said many nice things about her. That she was pretty
and had

a great sense of humor. He had also been told that she was very selective about who she
dated

since she recently broke an engagement to a childhood sweetheart who turned out to be
more

interested in pursuing his own singular interests. Barbara indicated that Stephanie was
still

suffering from the breakup.

His thoughts were interrupted by Stephanie's voice.

"I'll quit while I'm ahead and not ask what she said."

"Can I get you something to drink?" he said more slowly than he would have
liked.

She held up her full glass. "No thanks, I'm all set."

They spent the balance of the afternoon moving in and out of groups of people

participating in numerous conversations. When they were in the same group it seemed
they always

ended up talking to just each other. He was continuously offering her drinks and food.
When they

were not in the same group he found himself looking around until he located her and then
he

could not keep from looking in her direction. Was he imagining it or was she looking in
his

direction as well. Each time their eyes met they would acknowledge each other with a
warm

smile.

It was not until three weeks after that first meeting that Matt generated enough
courage to

phone her. After all, he had been told how difficult it was to date her and he didn't want to
spoil

the nice memories so soon after that first meeting by having her reject him. Maybe she
had

forgotten they had met. He asked her to go dancing with him at Meyer's Lake Ballroom
the

following Sunday night. Les Brown and his band were appearing. She accepted, and in a
manner

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-10-

that made him feel she really wanted to go with him.

The evening had been magnificent. Her warmth and easy-going manner put him
at ease
from the moment he met her at her door. She danced beautifully. They spent most of the
evening

on the dance floor.

He decided that when he took her to her door that night he would treat her as
something

special, not wanting to come on too strongly as he might have with another girl. He
followed her

up the steps to the front door and as she pulled a ring of keys from her purse she turned,
facing

him. They were very close, his face just inches from hers.

"I had a wonderful evening," she said.

"So did I. Stephanie, I would like very much to kiss you. Do you mind?"

"No, not at all."

He leaned forward and kissed her softly. "Can I call you again .... soon?"

"I'd like that very much."

From then on every free moment they had was spent together.

Matt was half dozing, the seat becoming increasingly uncomfortable, when the
roar of the

engines diminished almost imperceptibly. He woke with a start, his pilot's senses telling
him there

had been a reduction in power. The stewardess's voice came over the intercom.

"Mesdames, Messieurs, attachez vos ceintures de securite', s'il vous plait. Nous

approchons l'aeroport de Kano. Dans quelques minutes nous allons atterir."

As they taxied toward the terminal some movement at the right corner of the
building

caught Matt's eye. Looking in that direction he saw a number of large trash cans spilling
over with
garbage. Flapping their wings wildly and hopping all over the garbage were no less than
two

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-11-

dozen huge vultures that were ripping and tearing the trash to shreds.

'My first view of Africa.'

As they disembarked each passenger was again given a coupon that provided for
breakfast

inside the terminal. In two hours they were winging their way southeast to Leopoldville.

--------------

Shortly after they were married in 1949 he entered the Air Force, became a pilot
and then

elected not to make it a career. He resigned, went back to school and after graduation
entered

Consolidated Industries' management training program. During those first years at


Consolidated

times were tough financially, his income being very meager.

During the first year, because of his prior experience in transportation, Matt was
assigned

permanently to the Traffic Department in advance of normal completion of the training


program.

His progress had been excellent and there was an urgent need to fill a vacated position in
the

Export/Import Section. Even though he had little experience in international traffic he


jumped at

the chance. It would take him off trainee status and increase his monthly salary from
$350.00 to

$380.00. They needed the increase desperately, particularly with the birth of Betsy, the
first of

their three girls.

Consolidated was heavily committed to overseas trade, including having


numerous

manufacturing facilities in a number of countries. In carrying out his responsibilities Matt


worked

very closely with the separate subsidiary, "Consolidated International Corporation",

headquartered in the same building as the parent company.

Matt came to know the people well in "International". It was the glamour segment
of the

business and he recognized immediately that it was the fastest growing. He also
recognized that

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-12-

for those sent to live and work overseas who performed well, advancement came rapidly.

Moreover, he enjoyed being around those in International who were permanently based at

headquarters as well as interfacing with the steady stream of visitors from all over the
world.

A desire to more fully participate in this arena of the business began to develop
within

Matt, so much so that it occupied his thoughts full time. He discussed it with Stephanie
and they

both became excited at the prospect of International life and what it could mean for them.

Somehow he must determine the best way to attain the objective Stephanie and he had set

for themselves, he realizing that he had to demonstrate he had more to offer than his
present

background provided. He reasoned that his strength was in his ability to communicate
easily and
clearly. Sales and Marketing would be the best route as opposed to Manufacturing or
Finance.

He immediately began a search for part time work in sales, at any wage, and
landed a job

working evenings and weekends with a local electronics distributor. He also enrolled in a
Spanish

language class conducted by a Colombian-born employee of Consolidated, it taking up


what little

free time he had left.

The burden placed on Stephanie resulting from his being fully occupied seven
days a week

was enormous, but she knew the goal toward which they were working and she provided
full

support.

Before long it became apparent to the owners of the electronics distributorship


that in

spite of the fact he was only working part time Matt was the best salesman they had. He
enjoyed

contact with people and the customers could sense it. He gave the impression that he was

genuinely concerned with satisfying their needs and desires.

He did not know it, but his outside activities and the reasons for them were not
going

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-13-

unnoticed by his superiors at Consolidated.

They were having one of their rare dinners together. It was almost one year to the
day

since Matt had embarked on his program to prepare himself for the objective of being
transferred

into International. Finishing dinner he leaned back in his chair and glanced at their
youngest,

Jenny, who had come along in 1955. She was sitting in her highchair with more baby
food on her

face and the chair than inside her. Betsy and their 1953 arrival, Lisa, were busy trying to
work

out how they could avoid eating the food on the plates in front of them.

"I've decided that tomorrow I'm going to tell Dave I'd like to transfer into
International. I

don't know how he'll take it but I can't wait any longer. Even if he agrees to release me I
must still

sell the people in International. I want to become a sales staffman in one of the divisions.
It could

be any one of the four. Europe, Middle East and Africa, Far East or Latin America. It's a
training

ground in preparation for overseas assignment and if it works out for us the way it's
worked for

others we could be given an assignment in about two years."

Stephanie continued to play airplane with Jenny, flying the spoonful of food into
the

hangar, which was her mouth.

"You know," she said, "up until now this has been an all-consuming project. The

excitement of working toward our goal has overshadowed any reservations I've had. Oh,
I'm not

worried if you'll be successful. I know you will. I'm afraid of what living outside The
United

States will be like. What it might do to us."

The airplane made another landing and once again most of the baby food was spit
out over

the front of Jenny.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-14-

This was a subject they had talked about often. They knew the percentages were
against

them relative to those who made it in international life and those who did not. It was not
just

success or failure in business, but just as importantly it had to do with making the
enormous

adjustments in day to day living. The expense being incurred by companies to return a
man and his

family once it was determined they were not 'international types' was graphic proof of the
many

pitfalls connected with what always started out as a glamorous adventure but more often
than not

ended in tragedy. Many once happy families as well as careers were destroyed as a result.

The wife's tasks and the adjustments needed to the new life were by far the most
difficult.

At least for the most part the man was dealing with something with which he was
familiar, his

work. But for the woman everything was new and strange. Due to the demands placed on
the

man by his work she would be left on her own in a totally different environment and was
expected

to establish a home for her husband and children. A home that required management
capabilities

that went far beyond the norm. A culture shock had to be endured that often required the
use of a
different language before the first steps could be taken to adjust. On top of it all she must
be a

gracious hostess, often at a moments notice and many times in a number of different
languages.

Her importance to the furtherance of the company's business and her husband's career
was

incalculable.

Many companies, including Consolidated, recognized the important part a wife


played.

They screened wives as well as husbands in order to avoid assigning them overseas if
they were

judged to be unsuitable for making the adjustments or developing the self-sufficiency


required in

both personal and business life. This screening process was successful to a degree, but in
spite of

efforts to prepare and create an awareness of what was to be expected, lifestyles had to be
so

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-15-

radically changed that what was thought to be understood and sustainable would end in
failure in

one form or another.

Excessive drinking by expatriates was an ongoing problem with which all


multinational

companies had to contend. Not just as a result of the seemingly endless round of parties,

receptions and dinners in which alcohol played an important part, but it was used as a
means of

escape from the pressure of the demands made on social and business life. Loneliness for
home,
family and friends left behind could be made more bearable by the tranquilizing affects of
alcohol.

Whether it was the wife, the husband or both who drank to excess, the result was always
the

same. The man's work would be affected ending up in return to headquarters to be


relegated to

obscurity somewhere within the company, or let go.

Just as serious a problem was that of extramarital activities. It was so prevalent


that by

many it was considered a requisite of overseas life. The exposure to other cultures where
quite

often the exchange of affection among friends, married as well as unmarried, was met
with a much

greater degree of tolerance than in The United States, was blamed in part for this. But the

exposure to the sophisticated and worldly atmosphere of international business and social

activities provided an excellent scenario for love affairs to a degree that was for many
irresistible.

"But we've discussed it so many times," Matt said. "You and I are different. It
won't

happen to us because we won't let it. Neither you nor I drink that much."

"And what about the other?" she asked, toying with the baby's plate of food.

He knew what she meant but feigned ignorance.

"What other?"

"You know. The stories we hear about it being almost accepted that wives and
husbands

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-16-

are unfaithful. Do we want to take that chance?"


He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "Honey, I don't want anyone
but you -

ever! Isn't our love for each other strong enough to overcome anything? I don't know
about you,

but I don't have any fears about being tempted."

She seemed hurt that he expressed doubts about her.

"How can you say you don't know about me. You can't know how much I love
you."

"You couldn't love me nearly as much as I love you," he smiled.

She resumed attempting to fly the planes into the hangar. "Do you have any idea
where

we'll go?"

"Not a clue. It depends on where the need arises, and anyway, it will be at least a
couple

of years before I'm ready, if I'm accepted." He emphasized the-word 'if'.

"So long as it's not the Belgian Congo," she said.

"Why would you say the Belgian Congo?"

"I don't know.' she smiled. "It just sounds dark and wild."

Stephanie could not know it, but she would develop an inner strength that would
come

very rapidly as future circumstances dictated the need. Her ingenuity and stamina would
manifest

itself in a number of dangerous, life-threatening situations.

------------

"Dave, can I see you for a minute?"

Matt was waved to a seat in front of the desk.


"I've got to talk to you about something I've been thinking about and working
toward for

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-17-

a long time now. I enjoy the work here and have learned a lot. You've been more than fair
and I

thank you for that." He paused for a few seconds, then thought, 'Here goes.' "But if I
thought I

was going to sit at that desk for the rest of my life I'd quit right now!"

He waited for the patented explosion for which Dave was so well known.

"What do you have in mind?" Dave asked, calmly leaning back in his chair.

'No explosion?' Matt was relieved but cautiously and almost apologetically
proceeded.

"As you know, I've had the opportunity to work with and come to know the International
people.

I would really like to make a career of it, looking to an overseas assignment some day."

"What about Stephanie?"

"We've been discussing and working toward it for a long time now, and she's all
for it."

"You know you have a strike against you in not having an education in foreign
trade.

They've been hiring people with Master's degrees with postgraduate study in international
trade

for some time now."

"I know, but my work in your department has given me valuable experience and
I've

observed and made myself aware of their work as much as possible. If I'm given the
chance I
know I can make it work."

Dave smiled. "I understand you took a part time job some time ago just to get
sales

experience."

"How did you know about that?" Matt said in surprise.

"I'm not the only one that knows. How are the Spanish lessons coming?"

"Obviously you know more about me than I thought. The lessons are not going
badly, I

think. We don't get much chance to practice."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-18-

"I've known for some time what you've been doing and what you have in mind.
Matt, I'd

never hold anyone back from bettering themselves, even if it means creating problems
within my

department. I'll help you all I can. As a matter of fact, some time ago I spoke to H. J.
Conners, the

Executive Vice President to whom this whole department reports, and told him what you
were

doing. He didn't make any commitment but did say that he would be interested in your
progress.

Let me think about this and I'll get back to you."

Matt was ecstatic. "Thanks very much, Dave. Your support and understanding
means a lot."

Dave Barker was better than his word. He let Matt's desires be known to not only
Conners

but to everyone in a management position in International. It took just two weeks for
Matt to be
advised by the Personnel Department that interviews had been arranged for him to meet
with

each of the four international company's division managers, two vice presidents and
finally the

president.

After each interview he reviewed over and over again in his mind what had been
said and

how he had been perceived. Each time he analyzed them he was certain he looked that
much

worse. He was convinced that his interview with the president had been a disaster
because he had

struggled so when the president spoke to him in Spanish.

He agonized for days after the interviews. No word came. Afraid to ask, he was
now

convinced he would receive an answer he did not want to hear.

Two weeks went by. Then he received a call that he was to see the international

company's Personnel Manager.

"You will take up a staff position in the Middle East and Africa division. You'll be
on the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-19-

desk as staff trainee and contact for our business in Iran, Iraq, Turkey, Syria, Saudi
Arabia,

Jordan, Lebanon and Greece. You'll get good guidance under the division manager, Dick

Kirkland. He's had many years experience living and working in the Middle East and
Africa."

Matt all but floated out of the chair.

"Thanks for the wonderful news. I'll work my tail off. I really appreciate the faith
they all

have in me. I'll do my best not to let anyone down."

"I've got to tell you, Miller, I'm not convinced this is the right thing. But
somebody up

there likes you. I have never seen so much power brought to bear. Who do you know?"

"The man I first spoke to was my boss, Dave Baker. Except for the interviews I
had,

there has been no contact with anyone else." 'That is,' Matt thought, 'other than the Guy
I've been

speaking to on my knees since I started this project.'

The next year was spent completely immersed in learning everything he could
about

international trade, the company's product lines, coming to know the customers and
overseas

company personnel with whom he was working, and all the while acting as liaison for
these same

people in servicing their needs from corporate headquarters. Over the ensuing months he
watched

other staff men, some of whom had become close friends, receive assignments to
Ethiopia, Iran,

Lebanon, Puerto Rico, Panama, Thailand, Switzerland, Germany, Belgium and Brazil. He
was

envious, but worked for the day his turn would come, wondering where it would take him
and his

family. Then, there was always the chance they would change their minds about him and
he would

be transferred back to his old department, or worse, let go.

It was a little over a year after he had joined the division and during the annual
visit of
Albert Fouquet, the company's Field Sales Representative for Ruanda-Urundi, French
Equatorial

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-20-

Africa and Belgian Congo that he was called into Kirkland's office. Albert was there and
made no

move to leave when Matt sat down.

"Matt," Dick began, "I don't know whether you've heard any of the rumors, but
shortly

we'll be taking over the distribution of our products in Ruanda-Urundi and The Belgian
Congo

from the Belgian firm that has handled it for many years. The volume of business has
reached the

point where we now feel it justifies establishing our own subsidiary. We're going to
construct a

small manufacturing facility but will continue to import some products that we don't
intend to

produce there. We'll include Ruanda-Urundi within the scope of the operation because as
I'm

sure you know The United Nations assigned it to Belgium as a trust territory and it comes
under

the economic union with The Belgian Congo." Nodding in Albert's direction Dick
continued.

"Albert has been our sales representative in Central Africa for a number of years now and
he's the

natural choice to head up the organization."

Smiling, Matt reached over and shook Albert's hand. "Congratulations. Sounds
like a great
opportunity."

"Thank you," Albert responded. His thick French accent and European dress left
no doubt

as to his Belgian nationality. "We all think so."

"The initial plan is to set up a head office in Leopoldville," Kirkland continued,


"dividing

the two countries into three regions, western Congo, northeastern and eastern Congo to
include

Ruanda-Urundi, and finally southern and southeastern Congo. Each will be assigned to a

Regional Sales Representative who will be responsible for the development of sales and

distribution in his respective territory. Plans are already underway for the construction of
the

manufacturing facility. It will be located in Elisabethville in the Province of Katanga right


in the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-21-

heart of the mining regions of Southeastern Congo."

It began to occur to Matt that he was being told all of this for more than just
information

purposes. His current countries did not even include any part of Central Africa. 'Maybe
they're

going to change my staff assignment,' he thought, 'to include this part of Africa.'

"Matt, we've talked long and hard about this, Albert, I, and a number of others in

management. The conclusion has been reached that you are to be one of those regional
sales

representatives."

Matt was dumbfounded. He felt the blood rush to his head and he became almost
giddy.

'I've got to exercise control,' he thought, 'otherwise I'll make a complete ass of myself.'
He stared
first at Kirkland and then at Albert.

"You'll be responsible for the northeastern Province of Orientale," Dick went on,
"the

eastern Province of Kivu, where you'll be based in the town of Bukavu, all of Ruanda-
Urundi and

a strip along the northern border of Katanga province." He leaned back in his chair and
lapsed

into silence to let Matt completely absorb the magnitude of what he had just said. Albert
Fouquet

simply smiled, looking at Matt.

"I .... I - this is totally unexpected!" Matt stammered. "I'll need some time to begin
to think

more clearly about this, but I'm sure you both know how pleased I am. It's what I've been
working

and waiting for. I .. I guess it's no less an opportunity for me than I said it would be for
you,

Albert."

Albert stood up and extending his hand shook Matt's. "I take it that your answer is
yes?"

"Absolutely!"

"We all know you'll do a great job, Matt," Dick said shaking his hand. "The
Congo is the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-22-

most stable colony in Africa and the Belgians are in full control. The natives are
relatively

prosperous and seem to want the Belgians to stay, unlike some of the other colonies on
the
continent."

"Now, Honey," he began, "I was given an assignment today."

He had managed to steer her into the living room where he now sat facing her.
She

clasped her hands together tightly and smiling began to speak, but before she could do so
he

blurted out much faster than he would have liked, "We don't have to accept it," knowing
that he

had already done so, "but if we don't take it, it will mean my job."

Very cautiously she asked, "Where?"

"The Belgian Congo!" he almost shouted.

She blanched.

"Now, Stephanie," he said too rapidly, "we've been assigned to live in Bukavu, a
town of

about 30,000 people." He neglected to add that of that total 25,000 were black Africans.
He had

rehearsed this presentation countless times since he had been advised earlier that day.
"Bukavu is

up in the mountains on a beautiful lake and it's the resort area of Central Africa." He was
talking

as fast as he could to give her all of the positives as quickly as possible in an attempt to
overcome

any fears even before she developed them.

"They have beautiful vegetables and fruit," he continued, "and it's over five
thousand feet

above sea level and only about 150 miles south of the equator meaning fantastic weather
all year.

A lot of wealthy, titled Europeans, mostly Belgians, live there. Some escaped the Nazis
during the
war and they decided not to return to Europe because it's so nice there."

They talked into the early morning hours. Stephanie became more and more
excited and

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-23-

she seemed to be either ignoring the remark she had made over a year earlier about not
wanting to

go to The Belgian Congo or she had forgotten it.

"I'll be going ahead of you and the girls by one month so that I can visit the
company's

Brussel's office on the way, spend some time at our new head office in Leopoldville, visit
the

major city in my territory in northeastern Congo, Stanleyville, and then on to Bukavu. I'll
be in

Bukavu for about one week before you and the girls arrive so I'll be able to look around
and

screen out available housing."

They decided they would immediately sell the house and furniture since furnished
housing

would be provided by the company. Stephanie and the girls would stay in a hotel until
their

departure. It was August and the plans they were formulating meant that Matt would
depart

October 1 with Stephanie and the girls following one month later on November 1. Betsy
would

start her second year of school with the understanding that she would be leaving shortly.
The

other two girls were not yet in school.


He explained that the only available school in Bukavu was Belgian with French
the spoken

language. Because of Belgian law Flemish was required to be taught as was French in the
Flemish

speaking schools located elsewhere.

Matt and Stephanie decided not to worry about these things until they arrived. It
never

entered their minds that they might not be able to surmount these difficulties or any other

problems with which they would be confronted. They had no way of knowing that they
were to be

caught up in events that were to draw the attention of the world.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-24-

CHAPTER 2

He noticed the DC-7 had been letting down for quite some time. According to the
time

elapsed they should be approaching Leopoldville. The stewardess announced they would
be

arriving shortly and that everyone should return to their seats and fasten their seat belts.

He wondered if anyone would meet him at the airport. He knew Albert was on a
trip to

the interior and other than knowing he had been booked into the Hotel Regina he had no
other

information except the address of the newly leased offices.

'If no one meets me I'll go to the hotel,' he thought. 'It's Sunday, and unless
someone

contacts me I'll go to the office tomorrow morning.' He checked his watch. '7:25AM -
right on
time!'

The plane shuddered as the landing gear locked into position accompanied by a
whining

noise as the flaps were extended. He looked out the window at the ground just below and
got the

distinct impression that he was looking at an earth covered by thick green broccoli that
was

partially obscured here and there by puffs of white cotton clouds. Other than patches of
mist that

were visible in low lying areas there was nothing but broccoli as far as the eye could see.

Suddenly they broke out over a clearing that was the perimeter of the airport. A
strip of

black asphalt appeared underneath followed by a screeching bounce as the stationary tires
touched

the asphalt and resisted the sudden demand of the aircraft to accommodate it's weight and
speed.

He was forced forward against the restraining seat belt as the pilot applied brakes and the

increased roar of the engines signaled that the propellers were being moved into reverse
pitch to

assist in deceleration of the huge plane.

Uniformed blacks who were being watched by uniformed whites standing at their
sides

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-25-

ushered the long line through passport and health control. Matt moved with the other
passengers

into a room that contained rows of knee-high counters that ran the length of the room.
The
passengers were accumulating in one corner where the baggage was being unloaded
through an

opening in the wall. As each passenger pushed, shoved and then found their luggage they
would

struggle with it to one of the counters behind which stood a number of black and white
uniformed

Customs officers. It appeared as if they were opening and inspecting the contents of
everything.

He glanced beyond the wooden barrier at the opposite end of the room where
milling

people were excitedly talking and pointing at the passengers. Occasionally one would
shout a

greeting at someone in the Customs lounge. Even though he knew no one other than
Albert, Matt

looked at some of their faces hoping to see a sign of recognition.

He cleared Customs and followed the porter who was pushing a cart loaded with
his

baggage through the waiting crowd toward the exit. He began to formulate the French
words in

his mind to instruct the taxi driver when suddenly he felt someone touch his arm.

"Mr. Matthew Miller, is that you?" The English was heavily accented.

He turned to see a man who was to influence his life considerably over the next
three

years. He was about the same age as Matt, a slender six feet tall, also the same, but in
contrast to

Matt's blonde, blue-eyed, fair complexion he had dark hair, dark brown eyes and fine,
sharp

features. Decidedly European, he was dressed in skin tight chinos, casual moccasins and
an open

necked sport shirt. Matt quickly guessed that this must be Marcel Ivanov that Albert had
mentioned. Marcel had been hired locally to take up the position of sales representative,
Matt's

counterpart for Western Congo operating out of head office in Leopoldville.

"I'm Matt Miller. You must be Marcel Ivanov."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-26-

"You are right," he smiled broadly. "How did you know me?"

"Albert told me about you, but he didn't say that you would meet me."

Albert had told him that Marcel's parents had been titled Russians who had fled to
western

Europe at the time of the revolution, as so many others had. His father was a doctor and
his

mother had become a nurse since leaving Russia. They had decided to immigrate to the
Belgian

Congo, not as missionaries but to provide medical care for whites as well as blacks. They
had

settled in Jadotville in southeastern Congo where Marcel was born.

Marcel had been raised and educated in Congo, Belgium and England. His four
years in

England left him with a slight British accent. He spoke French, Flemish, Russian, English
and the

African languages of Swahili and Lingala, all fluently.

His command of the Swahili and Lingala languages was particularly strong. In
opening up

central Africa, a natural and essential development was the breaking down of the isolated

hundreds of different tribes and their equally numerous languages, and the early
colonialists and
slave-traders undertook this monumental task through necessity. The people living along
the

Congo River adopted Lingala, a simplified version of the tongue of the Bangala tribe, and
the

early government made it the military language as well, since many of the soldiers were
drawn

from either Bangalas or Lingala-speaking men. The tribes in lower Congo found a
common

language in Kikongo Commercial, and southeastern Congo took it's linguistic leadership
from the

great and feared Baluba tribe, the small tribes also learning their tongue.

But alone of the four Congo linguae francae, Swahili was imported from beyond
Congo's

borders. Slaving expeditions into central Africa, while directed by Arabs, were mostly
made up of

Swahilimen from the east coast of Africa. In their nefarious relations with the Congo
peoples

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-27-

they spoke their own tongue, Swahili, and those with whom they dealt, most of whom
were

Bantu, acquired the language as well. From Elisabethville in the south to within a few
hundred

miles of the Sudan border in the north a dialect of coastal Swahili became tremendously
popular.

Along with Lingala it became one of the two most favored means of communication.

"Albert is in the interior but will be in the office tomorrow. Come, we will go to
the

Regina." Marcel then said something to the waiting porter in Lingala and they walked
through the
parking lot to his car. It was a brand new light blue Volkswagen beetle. With Marcel's and
Matt's

help the porter strapped the luggage to the rack on top.

"We are all to have these for transportation. A good idea from Albert. There is no
better

car for bush roads. They take a tremendous beating and if you go in a ditch or have
trouble they

are small and light and can easily be moved. You do not mind my calling you Matthew?"

"Not at all. Please call me Matt. Can I call you Marcel?"

"Yes, please."

"Hope you don't mind," Marcel said as they pulled out of the parking lot, "but I
must stop

at my place to pick up a folder Albert asked me to give you. I rushed so quickly this
morning I

forgot it."

"No problem," Matt replied.

"Anyway, it gives me a chance to show you my new flat. I have only been in it
two weeks

since I moved here from Elisabethville. You know Albert hired me away from Union
Miniere, the

big mining company. He came to know me from his business visits there. I was in the
Purchasing

Department and over the years passed much business along to Albert."

They were now driving along a wide asphalt boulevard that was lined on both
sides with

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-28-
large homes that were for the most part gleaming white and orange, the facades of which
were

covered with thick purple and red bougainvillaea. The dividing strip in the center of the
boulevard

was planted with colorful trees, bushes and flowers. It was becoming hot and humid
inside the

little car in spite of the strong breeze blowing into the car caused by the high rate of speed
at

which they were traveling.

"How are the new offices?" Matt asked, really preferring to keep the conversation
to a

minimum so that Marcel would concentrate on the road.

"Very nice. You will see them tomorrow. We still have some furniture to be
delivered, but

considering we are in Congo things are moving very well."

"How many people will be stationed here?"

"There will be Albert, Walter Wagner the American finance man who was
transferred

from South Africa, his assistant who comes to us from the company's Swiss branch, a

secretary-receptionist, a 'Planton' or office boy and me."

They were into a more thickly populated section now, with both houses and
apartments

lining the street. To a great extent all of the glistening white and orange buildings were
obscured

by an abundance of colorful tropical plants and trees that Matt was seeing for the first
time. More

bouganvillaea, hibiscus and showers of flowers of all descriptions and colors. They
pulled up and

stopped in front of one of the apartment buildings.


"This is my place," Marcel said. "Come on, I'll show it to you."

They walked into the small foyer of the very modern building and took the
elevator to the

fourth floor. His apartment overlooked the tree-lined street below and was furnished with
what

appeared to be new furniture. The sweet, pungent smell of the vegetation outside the
jalousie

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-29-

windows was mixed with the faintly recognizable odor of a woman's perfume.

Marcel walked him through the apartment explaining that he had just received his
personal

effects from Elisabethville. Picking up a folder from the dining room table he handed it to
Matt

and they walked into the bedroom. Matt noticed a woman's bikini bathing suit on the bed
and

without interrupting his description of the apartment Marcel walked over, picked it up
and

dropped it into the night stand drawer next to the bed. He knew that Marcel was single.

They arrived at the Hotel le Regina located on Boulevard Albert, one of the
principal

streets of Leopoldville. There was a large outdoor cafe' on the corner next to the hotel that
was

empty this early Sunday morning. The reception area of the hotel was open-air and just
off the

street, with plants and bushes overflowing into and around the lobby.

"You get settled in your room and freshen up," Marcel said. "I will wait here.
Then we can
have coffee if you like and we will talk."

Matt was tired from the long trip but was anxious to talk to Marcel. With Marcel's
help,

he registered and went to his room.

The room was furnished very sparsely and had an air conditioner in the window
that

roared loudly. He splashed cold water on his face, quickly brushed his teeth and returned
to the

lobby where Marcel was talking to the black behind the counter.

Shortly they were sipping thick, strong coffee and eating freshly baked croissants
spread

with rich butter and deliciously tart English marmalade.

"I glanced at the file you gave me from Albert," Matt said. "He indicates you'll be
going

along with us to Stanleyville."

"Yes. He wants me to spend as much tine with you as possible these days we are
together

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-30-

in Leo and then in Stanleyville. I am to pick your brains about product lines and selling,
and

possibly I can help you with information on Congo and Africa. I understand you are
learning

French. Comment vont les lecons?"

"Pas mal, pas bon," he replied. Then in English, "I'm afraid I'm a long way from
being able

to carry on a conversation. I can't get over the fear of trying to speak. I'm afraid of
making a fool
of myself."

"You must force yourself to speak it. Do not be embarrassed at your mistakes and

pronunciation. People are pleased and impressed when you show you are trying, no
matter how

badly you speak."

"I have some phonograph records and books that I'm using. I'm determined to
speak

French well and with as little accent as possible. I really envy anyone who can speak
more than

one language."

"Until you stop translating in your mind while you are speaking," Marcel said, "it
will

continue to be difficult to understand or speak. But one day, like a flash, you will all of a
sudden

realize that you understand all that is being said around you and that you are able to
communicate

your thoughts and ideas with little problem and without hesitation. Then you will know
that you

are thinking in the language that you are speaking. It is a feeling of great
accomplishment."

"I can hardly wait for that day."

For the next two hours they discussed the company, it's products and plans. They
both had

many questions to ask each other and in the process Matt found out that Albert had
requested and

obtained the transfer of one of Consolidated's top salesmen in South Africa. His name
was Jason

Sterling. He would be the third sales representative and would be responsible for the
balance of
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-31-

the subsidiary's area of operation in southeastern Congo, with Matt handling northern and

eastern-central Congo and Ruanda-Urundi and Marcel western Congo. Jason would be
based in

Elisabethville, Katanga Province. Born in South Africa, both of his parents had
immigrated from

England. Marcel indicated that he was already in E'ville and Albert was visiting with him
to help

him settle in.

Marcel left with the promise to pick him up at 8:00AM the following morning.
Matt went

to his room and slept most of the afternoon, later that evening going down to dinner. He
returned

to his room, set his travel alarm, undressed and climbed into bed.

As he was drifting off to sleep he wondered what Stephanie and the girls were
doing at

that moment. 'Let's see,' he thought, 'we're six hours ahead here so it would be 5:00PM
there.....'

-------------

Stephanie was fully occupied in handling so many formalities and details that she
was

certain she would never make their scheduled departure. One was the painful experience
they all

had to endure of receiving numerous inoculations and vaccinations. Yellow Fever,


Cholera,

Typhus, Typhoid, Tetanus and Small Pox were only a few of the diseases they had to
guard

against. The after effects made the seemingly insurmountable matters to be handled that
much

more difficult to accomplish.

She transported Betsy to and from school since the hotel was located far from the
school.

Of necessity, she also took the other two girls with her everywhere she went, which
included the

many stores to buy clothes and personal effects that were needed to last the two years
they would

be in Africa before returning to home leave in The United States. Because Congo was
considered

by Consolidated to be one of three hardship areas in the world their posting was for two
year

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-32-

segments rather than the normal three. It was doubly difficult to choose proper clothing
because

very few company personnel had traveled there and none had ever lived in that part of
Africa.

Except for some lamps and small decorative items that they would take with them
all, of

the furniture was sold by Stephanie shortly before the house was sold. Only the major
pieces of

furniture would be provided with the house. The myriad of items she purchased, towels,
linens,

pots, pans, utensils, lamps and much more all were being packed for shipment. She had
one more

week in which to buy from a long list of essential items, after which they would finish
packing and

close the lift vans. She was convinced she would never make it.
She missed Matt terribly. On the surface she appeared to be holding up nicely, but
the

responsibility was almost overwhelming. All the while she could not stop thinking about
the

upcoming trip. Three small girls to watch over, and two of them were just babies. Betsy,
at seven,

was able to care for herself reasonably well, but Lisa at five and Jenny at two would
present

special problems.

She must handle all of their luggage, passports and passport control, health and
customs

control, and she must get them through approximately 34 hours of travel before they
would reach

their destination in Africa. From Cleveland to New York's Idlewild International Airport,
where

transfer to Pan American Airways had to be experienced. Then the flight to Lisbon,
Portugal for

refueling followed by the long leg to Accra, Ghana in West Africa, again for refueling.
From there

to Leopoldville where they would transfer to another flight, this time Sabena to
Usumbura,

Ruanda-Urundi far to the east in Central Africa at the northern tip of Lake Tanganyika.
There

they would be met by Matt for the four hour drive north into the mountains and Bukavu.

Bukavu had an airport serving it, but the largest plane it could handle was the DC-
3, and

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-33-

the four hour flight from Leo required the use of the larger DC-4 which could only be
landed at

Usumbura. Matt felt that after the long trip the drive would be a welcome change for
them. Also

it would mean they would see each other that much sooner.

The day finally arrived for their departure and Stephanie's parents drove then to
Cleveland

Airport. Her inexperience had her carrying too many items, and the long hard struggle
with the

baggage and the three little girls began.

The transfer to Pan Am at Idlewild was particularly difficult and then finally they
were on

board the DC-7. She undressed the girls, put their pajamas on them and tucked them into
their

first class overhead bunks for the overnight flight to Lisbon. She fell exhausted into her
seat and

was soon sound asleep without ever getting into her own bunk.

The flight over the Atlantic to Lisbon was uneventful, except for Jenny's periodic crying
with

which she had to deal. They were all exhausted, with many more hours in the air to go.
After the

breakfast and refueling stop in Lisbon they were once again on their way, this time to
Accra,

Ghana in west Africa.

As Stephanie was herding her three little ones toward the plane's door to disembark in
Accra, she

felt a light tap on her shoulder. Turning, she was confronted by a smiling stewardess.

"Madame, I don't think you'll be needing those coats for you and the girls. Please give
them to me

and I'll take them back to your seats."


"Oh, thank you very much. I'm a little bit out of it right now. I'm sure it must be a little
warmer

here than it was in Lisbon or New York."

She stepped into the doorway and the blast of hot, humid air with which she was met took
her

breath away.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-34-

Marcel pulled the VW up to the curb in front of a five-story office building


situated on a

tree-lined street just a few blocks from the heart of Leopoldville. Matt followed him
through glass

double doors over which large freshly painted letters identified 'Consolidated Congo,
S.A.'. They

walked into a small reception area up to a desk behind which sat a smiling, stunningly
beautiful

woman. Her thick, long blonde hair and delicately fine features were perfectly accented
with a

touch of cosmetics over a deep tan. He could not see the rest of her body, but if what he
saw

from her waist up was any indication, the rest of her must certainly be very pleasing to
the eye.

"Monique Kadar, this is Matt Miller."

"I know," she said with just a hint of accent. "I could tell from the photographs. I
am

happy to meet you, Mr. Miller, and welcome."

"Please call me Matt. Very nice to meet you, Monique. You must mean the
photographs
that appeared in the company publication."

She nodded. "Albert is in his office. Please go in."

Albert stood up as they entered. "Welcome, Matt! How was the trip?"

"Fine. I'm glad to finally be here. Marcel told me you got in late last night."

They sat together and made plans for their trip that would eventually end in
Bukavu three

weeks later. Matt would stay in Leo for one week to complete certain work permit and
resident

requirements while participating in discussions related to strategies for developing their


business.

They would review pricing and product and what would be ordered for inventories as
well as

discussing location and establishment of warehousing facilities in the different regions.


After

completing the week in Leopoldville, Albert, Marcel and Matt would fly to Stanleyville
where

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-35-

they would spend three days on a preliminary search for a dealer who would replace the
branch

outlet of the former distributor. From there Albert and Matt would proceed to Bukavu and

Marcel would return to Leopoldville.

Albert planned to spend one week with Matt in the Bukavu area to introduce him
to

business contacts in addition to giving him some initial assistance in starting his house
hunting.

There were also formalities to accomplish with the local government office to establish
residence.
Albert would then fly on to Elisabethville in the south and Matt would be on his own for
one

week before the arrival of Stephanie and the girls.

"I've arranged for at least three dinners this week to introduce you to some of the

managers of other companies' Congo subsidiaries," Albert said. "Almost all of the
companies

headquarter here, some having branch offices in the other major cities around the Congo,

especially in Elisabethville and Stanleyville. I also want you to meet a 74 year old
American who

has lived in Congo for 35 years. His name is Eric Brown. Don't let his age fool you. He
can run

circles around any of us. His company distributes many name-brand products and it is
one of the

largest in Congo. He has bought from us in small quantities in the past and we are trying
to get

him to take on our complete line for the Leopoldville area. He's originally from Dayton,
Ohio so

you both have something in common coming from the same State. He's a very interesting
man.

We are having dinner with him Saturday evening.

"By the way, you know that Marcel and I are bachelors, so I have asked Monique
to go

along in each case to make the wives of those we have invited feel more at ease. Walter,
our

Controller, will bring along his wife, Suzanne."

The week that followed Matt's first day in Albert's office was a whirlwind of
activity, both

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-36-
day and night and into the early hours of the mornings. The long days were full of
strategy

sessions and taking care of the personal formalities needed to work and take up residence
in

Congo. Then, with just enough time to freshen up they would meet in one of the
numerous

restaurants, all owned and managed by Belgians as were all businesses of any importance
in the

country. The Belgians had not lost their touch in providing excellent food and drink and

presenting in a style that left you feeling as though you had just been served in one of the
better

restaurants in Brussels. Only the tropical surroundings and the heat left no doubt as to
where you

were.

Dinner never started before eight or nine o'clock and would sometimes last until
midnight.

Then everyone would move to one of the clubs for drinks and dancing until three or four
in the

morning.

Albert never seemed to want the nights to end. In the early hours of the morning
when

everyone would be tired and long past desiring to go to bed he would insist that they all
go to his

house for a nightcap. In spite of the late hours they kept, however, they were always in
the office

and hard at work by eight o'clock the next morning.

Matt met some extremely interesting people that week, many of whom were
Americans.

Most of them had lived in Congo for quite some time. He was again frustrated by his
inability to

participate fully in their multilingual conversations and vowed he would remedy that as
quickly as

possible.

Monique attracted attention wherever she went. Her slender, beautifully curved
body and

her confident but unaffected manner drew protracted stares from people she knew as well
as

strangers. She danced well and her conversation was always light and pleasant. Matt
found

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-37-

himself dancing with her often and when he was not he was looking forward to the next
time.

He discovered that, like Marcel, she had moved from Elisabethville. Albert had
known her

in Elisabethville where he had been based prior to his moving to Leo to establish the new

subsidiary. Matt detected that Albert's attitude toward Monique was something more than
a

simple business relationship, but she did not seem to respond. She was not unkind to him,
but

neither was she overly warm.

Marcel's and Monique's attitude toward each other was the strangest. They hardly
spoke

to or even looked at each other. They were not rude, but appeared to be unaware of each
other's

presence. Occasionally they would dance together, but there seemed to be very little
conversation

between them. They would spend most of the time looking in opposite directions.
Eric Brown and Matt hit it off immediately. A good deal of the conversation
throughout

dinner was devoted to discussions and reminiscing about their home State of Ohio. Eric's
rugged,

leathery features gave witness to the fact that he had spent many years in the tropical sun.
He had

a very easy-going, steady manner that put one immediately at ease. He told Matt that
after first

arriving in Congo 35 years before he had always looked forward to visiting The States
every 3

years or so. As time passed he drew further and further away from friends and family
back there

and eventually communication all but ceased. His trips became less and less frequent. He
had not

been back since 1949, nine years ago.

The food at the Zoo Restaurant had been excellent, so-named because it was
situated

adjacent to the Leopoldville Zoo. That night Matt was introduced to the Congolese
national dish,

Poulet Moambe, roast chicken thoroughly marinated in wine and spices covered with
piri-piri

sauce placed over a bed of steaming rice. Matt gained immediate respect for the little piri-
piri

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-38-

peppers that had been ground up in the sauce. They were so hot that it was claimed they
could

start their own fire when lightly rubbed together.

Eric, Albert, Walter, Marcel and Matt retired to the quiet room in the restaurant
that was

set aside for coffee, pousse-cafe' and after-dinner conversation. It was still early by
African

standards, but in deference to Eric's desire to leave by eleven o'clock they had eaten
dinner early.

They settled into the deep overstuffed chairs placed around a massive coffee table while
the waiter

poured coffee and cognac.

"Did you hear the news that the British timetable is to now give the Nigerians
their

independence in 1960?" Albert directed his question to Eric Brown.

"Yes. I only hope they're better prepared for it than the Congolese."

"But, Eric," Albert responded, "there is no question about the Congolese and

independence. They are perfectly happy the way things are. There are little flare-ups here
and

there, but that's to be expected in any society, civilized or not. Look at what is happening
in

The United States."

The older man pursed his lips skeptically. "Why do you think it's any different
here than in

East Africa, Nigeria, Gold Coast or French West Africa?"

What followed from Albert was the type of reasoning that Matt was to hear many
times in

the months to come from the 'Colons', or colonials, as those Belgians who had made the
Belgian

Congo and Ruanda-Urundi their home were called, many of them second and third
generation.

"We maintain a different philosophy in our treatment of the 'indigenes'. While the
British
and the French have devoted a little more effort to provide for a more disciplined Civil
Service

and the education of the blacks, they have been by comparison much worse off
economically than

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-39-

the Congolese 'noirs'. On average, the Congolese income is better, they have greater
buying

power and we import more of the material things so that they can enjoy that buying
power."

Brown contemplated his cognac. "Do you really think that will satisfy them in the
long

run, while all around them the rest of Africa is clamoring for, even killing and dying for,

independence?"

"Oh it is recognized that eventually we must turn it over to them," Albert said
leaning back

in his chair, "but the one thing we have on our side is time. Keeping them somewhat
better off

economically by comparison to the rest of Africa gives us that time. With better
education, which

granted is somewhat inadequate now, we can prepare them for the orderly transition to

independence that they, and we, can handle."

"How long do you think that process will take, Albert?" Matt asked.

"It is hard to guess because there is so much to accomplish, but certainly another

generation or two. I would say at least forty or fifty years."

"On the flight over," Matt said, "I read a book about the Mau Mau troubles in
British
East Africa that recently came to an end, or so it is hoped. The horrible atrocities, hacking
to

death and killing of whole families of whites, many times by blacks who had been in
their employ

for generations and considered members of their families, was really unsettling. I hope
that

Stephanie doesn't read it," he smiled, "or I may not be able to keep her in Africa."

"I haven't read it yet." Eric said, "but if it's the one I've heard of it was very
impartial and

closer to the truth than anyone else has been so far."

"According to the book," Matt continued, "the white man came to Africa and over
a

period of time imposed previously nonexistent disciplines into the natives' lives, some of
it

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-40-

through establishment of schools, mission stations, the white man's religions, his laws,
regulations

and customs, and treated him as a child in the process. It often involved physical
punishment to

implement these disciplines of 'civilization', and in the process slavery was introduced as
well.

"The white man was displacing all of the things that the natives had considered to
be an

inherent part of their culture. Their brands of religion, tribal customs, tribal laws,
centuries-old

warfare among the tribes that they considered an important part of their existence. They
were

even made to change their eating, hunting and clothing habits. Frontiers were created that
split
tribal domains and the tribes themselves that have existed since time immemorial.

"Forced to accept and abide by totally new and strange moral standards they
found

themselves completely opposite to their previously held understandings of what was good
and

what was bad, what was right and what was wrong." Matt paused. "In a nutshell it
conveys the

story that the blacks were stripped of so much, but have received little in return, at least
by their

standards. They consider the authority now over them as having nothing of meaning for
them. On

the contrary, it only represents oppression."

"I have read the book," Albert said, "and I feel your analysis is close to the mark,
but

here again the circumstances are different in Congo. The economic plight of the black in
East

Africa under British rule cannot compare with that of the black in Congo. Also, the
Colons have

assimilated into the style of life required here, and the natives appreciate this. They are
becoming

like brothers, not like American segregation and all of it's problems of which the world is

constantly made aware."

"It would seem," Eric said, "that the reference you make to brothers should be
qualified by

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-41-

stating that one is a big brother and the other is the little brother, and we all know who the
big
brother is. Moreover, there has been a certain adjustment in the lifestyle of most Colons,
but do

you really believe, Albert, that the adjustment or 'assimilation' as you called it, has been
to the

black African ways? I think not, and I know you must agree."

Albert moved as if to speak, but the American continued.

"No - the white man has made the adjustment to a different environment, but not to
the

black man's way of life. He dominates the black man in order that he can continue to
enjoy this

new environment, but in a manner that suits him. In the process he must subjugate the
native and

impose a way of life on him that is entirely foreign and new. As Matt has interpreted the
book,

the black African is realizing more and more that he is being given nothing in return for
all that

has been taken away from him."

Albert shrugged, obviously in total disagreement with what he had just heard, but
before

he could respond Walter spoke.

"I understand the Belgian Prime Minister will be conducting a fact-finding tour to
Congo

some time after the first of the year. Possibly he will bring some ideas so that the Congo
can avoid

what is happening elsewhere."

"He is a fool!" Albert snapped. "He makes those pronouncements about


continuing the

liberation process and bettering the lot of the black only to appease the voices of the so-
called
humanitarians back in Belgium who support his political aspirations. They know nothing
of what

the Colons have done and are doing to develop this country. This is their home, and like
the East

African whites many are second and third generation. It is as much their country as it is
the

blacks. Even more so because the white man brought them into areas in Africa where no
black

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-42-

man had ever lived before. The blacks were half-starved savages before we arrived,
spending

more time killing each other and dying of diseases that are now commonly cured by the
white

man."

"Much soul-searching is required to determine who exposed them to many


previously

unknown diseases," Eric said smiling. He raised his hand as Albert started to reply. "It's a

certainty we cannot solve this complex problem in one evening's conversation, and I must
go. It's

almost bed time." He stood up and extended his hand.

"Matt, great pleasure to meet you. You'll be about one thousand air miles east of
here, but

if there is anything I can ever do for you or your family just let me know. When you
come to Leo

you come and see me."

"Thanks very much, Eric. It's been a very great pleasure for me, and I'll not forget
your
offer."

------------

"Matt. I must tell you of something that concerns Monique and me."

The two of them were having lunch at the sidewalk cafe' next to the Regina when
Marcel

abruptly changed the subject.

"You, Albert and I are leaving tomorrow and we will be with Albert the whole
time. It will

be difficult to talk privately and when we separate in one week's time I will probably not
have the

opportunity to speak to you for a long time. In case certain things happen in the future
you must

know why they happen. In the short time we have come to know you, Monique and I feel
that

you have become a close friend."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-43-

Matt thought it strange that he was referring to Monique in such a manner since
up to that

time their relationship seemed so distant.

"Albert has known Monique and me for a long time and it is no secret that he
loves and

has pursued her almost from the day he first met her, but without success. He has even
asked her

to marry him a number of times but she refuses because she does not love him. She loves
me!"

Matt registered surprise. "I notice she's very business-like with Albert, but why do
you
two act as though you can hardly tolerate each other? You hardly even speak."

"In front of others and Albert we do, but secretly we are engaged to be married.
We only

show our affection for each other when we are alone."

"But why?"

"Monique and I are childhood sweethearts. As you know, like me she was born
and raised

in Congo. Her parents immigrated from Hungary many years ago. It has always been
accepted

that we would some day marry. But from the moment Albert met her he has wanted her
so

desperately, almost fanatically, that he has refused to recognize the relationship that has
existed

between us."

"Then why don't both of you set him straight?"

"Because about two years ago when he began working on this project to establish
the

Congolese company, before I introduced him to Monique, he started screening people to


hire in

preparation for the time when it would become a reality. He eventually promised a
position to me,

which for me is a wonderful opportunity to advance while working for a large American

company. He indicated I would be based in E'ville where I had lived and worked for

Consolidated's largest potential customer. But instead, not too long after I had joined

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-44-

Consolidated he sent me here to Leopoldville. It was very obvious that it was a move to
separate
us, he calculating that on his frequent trips to E'ville he could see her but I could not."

"But that's not the way it is," Matt said. "She's here in Leopoldville and was even
hired

and brought here by Albert."

"Ah yes, but our friend Albert found that she still had no interest in him and he
needed

more time than his trips afforded to convince her that she should be with him. He hired
her away

from her father's business and we jumped at the chance to be together again."

"Then what's wrong? Everything seems to have worked out for both of you."

"I do not think you have noticed. Matt, but his treatment of me is distant and
hostile, and

becoming worse. I want to make a success of this opportunity, but he treats me so badly. I
really

believe he is either trying to get me to quit, or - he is, preparing to fire me. He takes every

opportunity to ridicule and embarrass me, especially in front of Monique."

"I must be frank. Marcel, I haven't noticed, but I've been so wrapped up in the
newness of

everything and the work. What do you plan to do? You can't continue this way?"

"Very shortly, possibly when Albert returns from this trip, Monique and I are
going to

announce our engagement and wedding date in February. That is four months from now
and our

families are already making plans. We have decided that Albert would not dare fire me
because it

would be so obvious to all that be took vengeance as the rejected man. We believe he has
too

much pride to do such a thing."


"But what happens after? Both of you will still be working for him."

"We have discussed that many times. I want so much to be a success in my new
job. I

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-45-

have decided to take his ill treatment of me and hope that the good work that I know I can
do will

come to the attention of others in the company. In spite of him I will make it a success."

"That's going to take a lot of courage and perseverance by both you and Monique.
I don't

envy you and what you are probably going to go through."

"We wanted you to know all of this, Matt, so that no matter what happens you will
know

we were not dishonest or had done anything bad behind someone's back."

"That would be difficult for me to believe of either one of you."

It was his last evening in Leopoldville. They had all been together for dinner and
for the

first time Matt noticed how badly Albert treated Marcel. Matt was dancing with Monique.

"Marcel told me you and he talked about us at lunch today," she said without
moving her

head from his shoulder.

"Yes, we did."

"We wanted you to know, since in just this short time we feel you have become a
very

close friend. We are not certain how it will all turn out but we will try to make it work."

"I wish you and Marcel all the luck in the world. I'm certain everything will be
fine and
Albert will come to realize his position is hopeless."

"Marcel is determined," she continued, "but I notice that he is becoming very


nervous and

on edge, which is not like him at all. I think he is anticipating our announcement and
what Albert's

reaction will be. I hope after it is finished he will be himself again."

"I'm very pleased that you and Marcel consider me a friend, Monique. You are
both lucky

to have each other." He turned and smiled at her. "Marcel is of course the most fortunate."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-46-

CHAPTER 3

Due to either nonexistent or at best very poor night facilities at many African
airports,

flights originated in the morning at first light, thereby making use of every available
minute of

daylight for the day's flights. Albert, Marcel and Matt arrived at Stanleyville airport just
before

midmorning, having departed Leopoldville as the sun was coming up. In spite of the fact
that the

day had hardly begun the heat and humidity were already oppressive.

Old Congolese hands considered Stanleyville, deep in the jungle forest of


Orientale

Province, to be the real Africa. It had been named after the man most responsible for
exploring

and opening up central Africa and the Belgian Congo to the world. Situated on the Congo
River

at Stanley Falls, one of the series of rapids that were found intermittently the length of the
river,

'Stan' had become an important link in the transportation system across the Congo. It was
here

that traffic coming upriver from the coast had to be offloaded onto overland
transportation due to

the falls and rapids being impassable. Conversely, traffic going in the other direction
would be

transferred from overland transportation to boats for the trip down river. This was a
process that

had to be repeated a number of times along the great river and it's tributaries. For goods
to take

two months in transit from the west coast to Eastern Congo was considered average.

As with most of the towns and cities of any size in Congo a 'Guest House Sabena'
was

located close to the airport. In Stanleyville it was situated directly across the road from
the main

airport building. These were usually the best hotel accommodations to be found. The
rooms were

made up of a series of separate small buildings containing two individual rooms side by
side,

somewhat like small duplexes. This type of an arrangement was found in most of
Sabena's other

hotels around the Congo. The large main building of the guest house sat in front of the
rows of

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-47-

smaller buildings and contained an expansive open-air restaurant, part of which was
converted to

a dance floor at night and on weekends.


Albert introduced both Marcel and Matt to the local branch manager of the
distributor

from whom they were taking over the business. He was very helpful in giving them some
good

ideas for potential dealers in this very important marketing area. They visited two of the

prospective dealers, talking to one of them about possible location of warehousing. They
arrived

back at the Guest House Sabena in time to freshen up before dinner. Albert had chosen
the

restaurant 'Pourquoi Pas'. It was a well known cafe' and restaurant, the French name
meaning

'Why Not'.

They walked into the small lounge to the sound of the song 'Volare' coming from
the large

music box at the corner of the dance floor. 'How about that,' Matt thought, 'deep in the
jungle of

Central Africa and I hear a song that is currently popular thousands of miles away in The
United

States.'

At first glance Matt was disappointed. For a place that had such a reputation it
was very

small and unpretentious, with a very tiny dining section that was cantilevered out over the
river. It

was dark, and looking down below the balcony's edge the dim light from the restaurant
only

revealed the black water directly underneath them as it rushed by. Looking out across the
vast

expanse of the river they could see only a few dim lights in the distance on the other side.

As they stood peering out over the waist-high balcony Albert pointed to a small
building
that jutted out over the river to their left that formed a part of the hotel's complex. "That is
where

Humphrey Bogart and Kathryn Hepburn stayed during the filming of 'African Queen'. A
good part

of the film was made right in this area."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-48-

They sat down to dinner and Matt found out shortly why the 'Pourqoi Pas' was
famous.

The dinner was unbelievably delicious. Served in a fashion befitting any of the best
restaurants in

Europe, the wine list indicated their cellar was equally well stocked. As they progressed
through

the meal they savored two bottles of St. Emilion.

During dinner they discussed the day's work and plans for the following day.

"Neither of you probably noticed that little dilapidated building on the other side
of the

street when we came in, but about two years ago I almost died in there," Albert said.

"Oh. What happened?" Marcel asked.

Matt glanced at Marcel. His concern seemed somewhat exaggerated. Albert


appeared not

to notice.

"I had come to visit the distributor's branch here and was really sick when I
arrived. I had

a good case of amoebic dysentery and did not know it. I was lying on the floor in that old
building

for three days unattended. No one here in Stanleyville knew where I was. Our distributor
uses it
for a warehouse and I had gone in there to look at some defective stock. I thought I only
had mild

dysentery, but in the heat and humidity inside I passed out. I was too weak and sick to get
out of

there."

"How did you get out?" Matt asked.

"I finally did manage to stagger across the street to this place. I still don't know
how I

made it. I was in hospital here in Stan for two weeks and then on medication for months

afterwards." Turning to Matt he asked, "By the way, are you and your family all set with
the type

of malaria pills you are going to take? I know we have talked about the necessary food
and drink

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-49-

precautions."

"Yes. We've decided on the daily malaria prophylactic rather than the more
infrequent

types that you take every few days. I understand it's fairly easy to forget to take them
when it's

not daily. With respect to food, we're going to try permanganate for fresh foods that are
eaten

uncooked and we'll boil all of our water. When we're in restaurants we'll just avoid
uncooked

foods, except when we know for certain they've been properly sterilized. We'll drink only
bottled

water, soft drinks and alcoholic beverages."

"Good," Albert said. "You cannot be too careful. When you are weakened by one
affliction, even mild dysentery, it opens up the door for others that could be more
serious."

"Do not be tempted to eat those beautiful fruits and vegetables in the Bukavu area
without

sterilizing them," Marcel added. "Especially those huge strawberries. That mountain
atmosphere

is perfect for all types of vegetation. Where you are going to live some of the most
beautiful and

unusual plants in the world exist. Also, up in those mountains over 5,000 feet and on a
beautiful

cool lake the sun will not seem so hot and threatening, but remember you are very close
to the

equator and it can be very dangerous to not be cautious."

Albert and Matt boarded the Sabena DC-3 at first light for the flight southeast to
Bukavu.

Marcel's larger DC-4 back to Leopoldville was taxiing out for takeoff. It would take them
over

the deepest jungle in Central Africa, the Ituri Forest. With the exception of some widely
scattered

mission stations, for the most part it was home to the smallest people in Africa, the
pygmies.

Averaging under 4 1/2 feet tall, these small men hunted with tiny bows and poison-tipped
arrows

and 100 foot-long nets of woven vine. This area was included in the territory for which
Matt was

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-50-

responsible. He would need to travel through it frequently to get to some of the towns and
centers
where he would be conducting business.

Shortly after takeoff Albert asked the black steward who the pilot was, then gave
him a

slip of paper with his name on it and asked him to give it to the pilot.

"I've come to know most of the Sabena pilots flying in Congo," he said. "They are
mostly

South African, Australian and Rhodesian. Even have a couple of Hungarian exiles from
the 1956

uprising. It is good to get to know them because when you are traveling they will usually
be

staying at the same places that you do. They can help in carrying packages and messages
around

the Congo that would otherwise take days. With Sabena and it's feeder lines being the
only air

transportation in Congo it certainly helps to know these people."

They had been underway only a short time when the flight deck door opened and
a

uniformed man with the four bars of a flight captain on the epaulettes of his white short-
sleeved

shirt emerged. He glanced around the cabin until he spied Albert and then headed in their

direction.

"Hello, Albert." His English was definitely British, but with a very different
accent. "Good

to see you."

"Jack! Nice to see you. I would like you to meet the man I told you about who
will be

living in Bukavu. Matt Miller this is Jack Snow, a cast-in-bronze Rhodesian, second
generation.

He is from Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia originally and now lives in Leopoldville with
his lovely

wife. He has recently become the proud father of a beautiful baby girl."

Tall and trim, dark hair and with a series of what looked to be burn scars on the
side of his

handsome face, Jack extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Matt. Welcome to Congo."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-51-

"Very nice to meet you, Jack, and thanks. Everyone keeps telling me we'll be
living in the

vacation spot of central Africa. We're looking forward to it."

Jack sat on the armrest of the empty seat opposite them. "It'll be a nice spot if the
wogs

don't screw it up first," he smiled. "When does your family arrive?"

"In about 1 week. We can't wait to get settled in."

"Anything any of us can do to help just let us know. Where are you staying until
you find a

place?"

"At the Royal Residence Hotel," Albert answered. "We will both be there for the
next

three or four days. How about dinner tonight?"

"Fine! I'll meet you in the bar about seven-thirty. Nice to meet you, Matt." He rose
and

walked back up the aisle and through the flight deck door.

"Did you notice those scars on the side of his face?" Albert asked. "He was a jet
pilot in

the Rhodesian Air Force and was involved in a flaming crash and was badly burned. They
had to
piece him back together. He is lucky to be alive. Great guy, and he means it about helping
you.

Make sure you get to know them."

The airport serving Bukavu was located on one of the many high hills
surrounding the

town that formed the base of the southern edge of a mountain range that extended to the
north,

through which ran part of the eastern border of Congo and the western border of Ruanda-
Urundi.

Then, further north an imaginary line split the range into Congo to the west and the
British Trust

Territory of Uganda to the east. It was in the northern region that the highest group of
peaks was

located, the Ruwenzori Range or "Mountains of the Moon". In spite of the fact that it was
only a

few miles from the equator the almost constantly cloud-covered tops were snowcapped
all year

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-52-

round.

At the southern edge of the mountains was Lake Kivu, a beautiful body of water
situated

at over 5,000 feet above sea level. Approximately 60 miles long stretching north and
south and as

wide as two miles in some places, at it's southern tip was the town of Bukavu where the
Millers

would make their home.

South of Bukavu an escarpment dropped sharply over 2,000 feet to the Ruzizi
Valley
below, a flat, slightly undulating plain containing only scrub trees, brush and savanna
grass. The

valley was sandwiched in between the continuing range of mountains that were situated
to the

east and west, extending southward to Usumbura in Urundi on the northern tip of the
much larger

Lake Tanganyika. The border between Congo and Ruanda-Urundi was formed in the
north by

Lake Kivu, from which the Ruzizi river flowed south at the eastern edge of Bukavu,
down the

escarpment and through the Ruzizi Valley where it emptied into Lake Tanganyika. It
formed the

border between Congo and Ruanda-Urundi. Bukavu airport was actually located on top
of a hill

in Ruanda-Urundi just across the Ruzizi River where a small bridge provided a crossing.

Matt could not know it, but this geography would one day prove to be a very
important

factor in his and his family's survival.

They came in low over a series of hills bordering the eastern edge of the lake and
Albert

pointed to the mountains bordering on the northeastern shore in the distance. "That is the
area in

which the rare and very hard to locate mountain gorillas live. Unfortunately, because of
poaching

and encroachment by man their numbers are being depleted very rapidly."

They touched down on what seemed to be the very top of one of the hills and after

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-53-

disembarking they identified their luggage and climbed into the Sabena minibus for the
ride down

the hillside and across the river into town.

The town of Bukavu was constructed on a series of peninsulas that jutted out into
the

southern tip of the lake, with more of the town spreading out to the south and up the side
of the

base of the mountain to the west. The native quarter was located on the side of these steep
hills,

with the homes of the Europeans, most of which were large and spacious, scattered over
the

peninsulas or just at their base. The commercial center and main street were on the largest
of the

peninsulas as well as being the closest to the western edge of the lake and the native
section.

The Royal Residence Hotel was about one quarter of the way up the main street
from the

base of the peninsula. After checking in Albert and Matt headed for the offices and
warehouse

area of the man they hoped to not only obtain as a dealer but also to act as warehouseman
for all

of their products to be sold throughout Eastern Congo and Ruanda-Urundi. Albert had
tried

unsuccessfully many times in the past to interest him in being a Consolidated dealer but
he would

never accept. Now with the company establishing itself in Congo, including the
installation of a

manufacturing unit, they reasoned he might see that his future would be better served by
dropping

the other lines of products he had and go with Consolidated. He was the third largest
dealer in
Congo after a dealer they had yet to see in Bunia to the north, and Eric Brown in
Leopoldville.

They walked into a very large brick-paved courtyard where a number of vehicles
were

parked, most of which were trucks. To the right was a building which appeared to house a
row of

offices and to the rear of the large parking area were the warehouses. On the left were
steps up to

a slightly elevated large house that Albert pointed out was the home of Yves and Yolande
Lenoir

and their son Robert. Albert had already briefed Matt on them, they being in their late
fifties and

F. William Jung/KATANGA -54-

had immigrated from Belgium just after the end of World War II. They had worked very
hard in

establishing a new home and a nice business. Robert was 27 and a bachelor.

Albert led the way into the office area where a slight man with thin blond hair
rose from

behind a desk. He had been talking to a black who was dressed in the traditional dark
blue shorts

and short-sleeved v-necked pullover of a laborer.

"Monsieur Lenoir," Albert said in French, "permit me to present Monsieur Miller,


the man

I told you about during my last visit." Albert had pointed out to Matt beforehand that the
Lenoirs

spoke only French and Swahili.

"A great pleasure, and welcome to Bukavu, Monsieur Miller," he smiled.

"A pleasure for me," Matt replied in French. Then he recited words he had
practiced so
many times for just this occasion. "My family and I are looking forward to making
Bukavu our

home. I want to apologize for my poor French, but I intend to work hard and learn it
well."

"Robert, our son, has promised to help you with French if you will help him learn
English.

He is studying it on his own."

"Sounds like a very good arrangement," Albert said. "Actually, you will find it
better,

Matt, to be confronted with people every day in business and socially who only speak
French.

Then you will be forced to speak it and not tend to slip into English when the going gets
rough."

Matt was straining hard to understand all that was being said. He realized he had
much

work and a lot of study ahead before he could attain the fluency he wanted so much. He
was also

beginning to resent the attitude of many Europeans who made a point of being unkind
and rude to

those who did not have the facility to speak one or more additional languages. They
seemed to

delight in pointing out that it was obvious that Americans did not have the capability to
be

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-55-

multilingual when even the common street cleaner in Europe had command of two or
more

languages. He vowed one day he would be as proficient, or more, as any of them.

Lenoir said something to the black in Swahili who bowed his head slightly.
"Ndiyo,

Bwana." He walked back in the direction of the warehouses.

"Robert is in the warehouse. I have asked that he come and meet you."

As Lenoir was placing chairs around his desk Robert walked in. He was about
Matt's

height, slender and blond and like his father was dressed in khaki colored shorts, short-
sleeved

open-neck shirt and sandals with ankle length socks. They were the work clothes of the
Colon.

After introductions the two hours that followed were devoted solely to business.

-----------

Madame Lenoir was a delightfully pleasant woman and a gracious hostess. They
had been

invited to the Lenoirs for dinner that evening and after an aperitif they began a meal of
green herb

soup followed by Coeur de Palme Vinaigrette, hearts of palm in an oil and vinegar
dressing. They

were then served the main course, a dish that Matt had as yet not been able to muster the
courage

to try. It was a very common and often- served favorite of Belgians called 'Filet
Americain'. Raw,

high grade ground beef, it was mixed with raw eggs, spices, herbs, onions and an
abundance of

pepper and served uncooked. He was adventurous, particularly when it involved food,
and forced

himself to eat every bite of this misnamed dish.

The generous portion Madame Lenoir had given him was finally finished.

"Madame Lenoir, that was delicious," Matt said with as much sincerity as he
could muster.
She smiled happily and making all manner of pleased noises and before he could
protest

she plopped a much larger portion on his plate. This too he managed to put away with
great

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-56-

effort.

After a dessert of Creme Caramele Madame Lenoir retired for the evening leaving

Monsieur Lenoir, Robert, Albert and Matt to their coffee and cognac.

"Monsieur Lenoir," Albert began, "to continue our conversation of this afternoon,
Matt is

now going to actively establish a network of dealers throughout eastern and northeastern
Congo

to handle our lines of products. To service their needs as fully and expeditiously as
possible he

will also be responsible for locating warehousing for our imported goods and then later
also for

that part of our line of products that we will be manufacturing in our factory that is being

constructed in Elisabethville. We have determined we will need a warehouse in


Stanleyville for

Orientale Province and northern Congo, and very importantly a warehouse here in
Bukavu for

central Congo as far west as Kindu on the Lualaba River and north to Beni and to
Usumbura and

Albertville in the south. It will of course be utilized to supply Ruanda-Urundi to the east.
How

does that sound to you?"

It was obvious that Albert was pleased with himself and the manner with which he
had so

expansively presented his plans.

"Very ambitious." Lenoir was puffing on a small dutch cigar dangling loosely
between his

lips. It hung almost straight down from his mouth. "But with the apparent resources you
and your

company are bringing to bear I am certain it will be successful. I would say your choice
of

locations is correct."

"The main warehouse for all of Congo will be in Leopoldville," Albert continued,
"but

many shipments destined for the other warehouses will be shipped directly to them from
our

European and South African factories. Our other warehouse will be located in
Elisabethville to

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-57-

serve Katanga Province in the south. Monsieur Lenoir, we would like you to be our key
dealer for

the Bukavu area as well as providing us warehousing facilities for distribution not only in
the

immediate Bukavu area for your account as a dealer, but also on our behalf in supplying
all of the

other dealers throughout the region I described earlier. You will not only earn your
regular profits

as a dealer in the resale of the goods within the Bukavu area but we will pay you a
commission on

all goods warehoused by you for delivery to the other dealers. We will handle all
invoicing and
carry the accounts receivable in our Leopoldville office. All you need do is warehouse,
ship and

send us proof of delivery so that we can effect billings on the customers."

Albert leaned back and waited for the positive reply he was certain would come.

"But as you know, Monsieur Fouquet," Lenoir said studying his cigar, "I am a
distributor

for other products that are in competition with yours. I have handled many of them
successfully

for years. How can I be unfaithful and drop them?"

"I admire your loyalty, Monsieur Lenoir," Albert said, "but the reality of the
matter is, as

you yourself put it, with the resources we are bringing to bear, warehousing,
manufacturing,

personnel, the future is obviously with us. I can only say that we are going to be
successful, and

we all know it must come at the expense of competition. We do not wish to put anyone
out of

business, but if forced to do so we...., ah, will have no choice."

Matt was surprised at Albert's blunt approach. 'Possibly the relationship between
them

permitted such directness,' he thought. 'It had certainly sounded like a threat.'

"But why cannot we continue to import and sell the other brands as well as
yours?"

Robert asked.

"Because we cannot invest so much money, people and effort without asking our
key

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-58-
dealers to handle only our products," Albert replied. "There would be a conflict of interest
that

would almost certainly keep sales volume at an unsatisfactory level."

The older Lenoir stood up, a signal that the discussion was being terminated.
"Give us this

night to sleep on it and tomorrow morning to discuss this between ourselves. We have
talked

about it before, but I believe we can give you an answer by noon tomorrow."

As they walked back to the hotel Albert said, "I am concerned at Monsieur
Lenoir's lack

of enthusiasm. I was certain he would leap at such a great opportunity. If he does not
accept, it

will upset our strategy for all of eastern and northeastern Congo and Ruanda-Urundi.

"By the way, I noticed but I am certain they did not, the great effort you put forth
to eat

Filet Americain. You pleased Madame Lenoir no end. Was it so bad for you?"

"Tonight I had a problem, but with time I can learn to like it, or anything that I
feel is

worthwhile or that I can eventually enjoy. In this case it was hopefully worthwhile if it
made her

feel good."

Albert looked at him curiously. "Do you approach all things in that manner, even

unpleasant things that would be easier avoided?"

"I wouldn't say all things, but to avoid it would mean to risk not experiencing
something

that might turn out to be rewarding in one form or another. Certainly the results are not
always

pleasant, but not to try is not to experience. I wouldn't like to ever feel I had missed
something

worthwhile simply because I had not been willing to take the risk."

"Admirable philosophy," Albert said, "but potentially dangerous." They walked


into the

lobby of the hotel. "Have a good night's sleep," he continued, "and I'll see you at
breakfast. Let us

hope we get an affirmative answer from Lenoir tomorrow."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-59-

Halfway through lunch Albert broached the previous evening's subject.

"Have you made your decision, Monsieur Lenoir?"

"We have, Monsieur Fouquet. But first I must point out that although I was
positively

inclined before our discussion of last evening I must frankly say that your implication
that if I

refused you would, how does one say, drive me out of business, left me upset and I felt
put upon.

There are things that transcend what are considered to be good business practice even in
today's

highly competitive world. Your remarks created an uncomfortable feeling within me. I do
not like

to be threatened with unpleasantness if I do not abide by someone else's desires."

Albert was completely flustered. "But..., Monsieur Lenoir. I did not intend to
imply any

unpleasantness for you, regardless of your decision. I only meant to..., ah..., indicate that
if you

did not accept we would of necessity need to make an arrangement with someone else
who would
be in competition with you."

"Unfortunately your words conveyed something more than that to me. In any event,
our

decision is based upon the fact that your company has product lines and quality that I
have for

many years wanted to handle. My only reason for not doing business with you in the past
was due

to my loyalty to the other brands, but more importantly because of the necessity of
buying from

your former distributor's branch, which would have made us a sub-dealer whose profits
and

volume would have been greatly reduced as a middleman. In dealing direct in the manner
you

have described we become the so-called "key" dealer with the additional incentive of
being your

paid warehouseman. "Also, and very important," Lenoir nodded in Matt's direction, "we
have

your man here to help us establish a dealer network and grow the business. En fin,
Monsieur

Fouquet, the economics of the affair make us say yes."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-60-

Albert leaped to his feet smiling broadly, almost shouting while pumping both
their hands.

"I am so glad. Monsieur Lenoir. You will not be sorry."

Matt joined in sealing the agreement with hand shakes all around. "I'll do my best
to

support and help in every way I can."

Matt and Albert spent the balance of that day and the next contacting home
owners and

looking at houses. Stephanie and Matt had discussed fully what they felt they wanted, and
with his

knowledge of her likes and dislikes by the end of the second day he narrowed the
selection down

to two houses. After some fairly easy negotiating he made his decision.

The newly-constructed house was on a hill approximately three quarters of the


way out on

the finger of land laying parallel to and just opposite the main street peninsula. It
commanded a

beautiful view overlooking the deep blue, crystal clear waters of Lake Kivu that stretched

northward for as far as the eye could see. On the eastern and western shores of-the lake
the

mountains climbed precipitously upwards and were covered with thick tropical
vegetation of a

kind seen in very few parts of the world.

It was a large two-level home containing five bedrooms, three full and two half
baths, a

private office on the ground floor which would be his base of operation, a long wide
living

room with a bridge room at one end and a large dining room at the other. A spacious
kitchen and

a dinette that was referred to as the "office" and a powder room off a marble foyer
containing a

winding staircase leading to the second floor made up the balance of the first floor.

A large newly planted garden surrounded the house with rows of Eucalyptus trees
placed

around it's edge. An abundance of poinsettias, bougainvillaea, hibiscus and other colorful
tropical
plants with which Matt was completely unfamiliar filled the garden grounds. The trees
and plants

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-61-

were placed in such a manner that they gave privacy while not blocking the magnificent
view.

Wide glass doors off the master bedroom upstairs led to any equally wide terrace that
provided an

open-air view of the mountains and lake to the north.

The house was very nicely furnished throughout. A feature that made it highly
desirable

was that the school to which the children would go, the Athenee Royale, was situated
slightly

below at the tip of their peninsula and just a short walk away. The street that passed in
front of

their house, Avenue Lieutenant Simonet, gradually descended down to the school.

He knew that Stephanie would be pleased. They would need to buy a few linens,
pots and

pans until their household effects arrived, but he would wait until she was there for that.

Albert stayed in Bukavu with him through the following Monday. Matt picked up
his

company car from the local Volkswagen dealer and began the process of handling the
many

formalities needed to establish residency. Then, as planned, Albert left for Elisabethville
and Matt

was on his own. He was looking forward to the arrival of his family that coming
Saturday.

He went to sleep that night anxious for them to get started on their new life. It
never
occurred to him that they would be anything less than completely happy and successful.

Slowly and sluggishly he wakened from deep sleep, suddenly realizing that he
was in the

hotel room and that it was still his first night alone in Bukavu. Sharp abdominal pains had

wakened him, so intense that he was doubled up in bed from their severity. He quickly
rolled out

of bed and rushed into the bathroom where he soon discovered that he had a roaring case
of

dysentery.

Returning to the bedroom he took a package from his suitcase and extracted two
pills

which he took with some of the soda water from the bottle on the night stand. The
balance of the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-62-

night was spent getting in and out of bed. By morning the uncontrollable diarrhea was

accompanied by vomiting that at times seemed to be wrenching out his insides. He soon
found

that he needed to accomplish both at the same time, finally managing it by sitting on the
toilet

with his head between his legs. He wondered how he could possibly call on their former

distributor's branch the following day and then drive to Usumbura to do the same thing
there.

He did not make it to either place. By the end of the second night he was so
dehydrated

that he had barely enough strength to make it from the bed to the bathroom. He had had
nothing

to eat and was unable to hold down water for very long. Rather than call the Lenoirs or
someone
in the hotel for help he hoped to weather it through with the aid of the pills he had been
advised to

take in just such a case. But now he was becoming so emaciated that he was becoming
concerned

about survival.

Laying on the bed and burning up with fever, his head throbbing with pain so
severe that

his vision was blurred. he could hear the huge cockroach-like water bugs ripping open the

cigarette package laying on the stand beside his bed to get at the tobacco. He was so weak
he did

not have the strength to chase them away.

On the morning of the third day he knew he must get dressed and go to the
pharmacy

across the street for more of the medication. He could only accomplish the dressing
process in

stages, collapsing on the bed after each. He wondered how he could ever get there and
back

without dying from the effort.

He did manage it, fully convinced that he was close to death a number of times.
The

sympathetic pharmacist agreed that the medication he was taking was the best and he
again went

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-63-

back to the isolation of his room.

The trips to the bathroom became less frequent. Using the bug bomb he had
purchased at

the pharmacy he sprayed the room to kill and drive off the monstrously big bugs.
Following a

much better night he awoke on Friday having decided to drive to Usumbura that day to
visit the

branch. He would then stay there overnight to be at the airport the following morning just
before

noon to meet Stephanie and the girls.

----------

The four hour drive from Bukavu down the escarpment and through the Ruzizi
Valley to

Usumbura was over the only paved road of any extended length in all of Eastern Congo
and

Ruanda-Urundi. Most other roads turned into quagmires of mud when it rained, with the

exception of some short paved stretches close to some of the towns. High in the
mountains the

road surfaces were embedded with sharp rocks that took on the consistency of jagged
pieces of

glass as the surface of the road around them was worn or washed away.

Matt was still feeling the affects of the dysentery. In spite of the fact that the drive
over

the asphalt road was relatively easy he stopped a number of times along the way. He
pulled up in

front of the hotel at noon, checked in and then rested during the two hour lunch period
when all

businesses were closed.

The branch manager handed him the list of prospective dealers in the area.

"There are many Greeks living throughout Eastern Congo and Ruanda-Urundi,
most of

whom are either merchants or who truck coffee from the plantations to the markets in
Usumbura
and other trading centers. Coffee and tea plantations are a major part of the economy
throughout

this part of Africa. It is the very rich, high grade mountain variety of coffee and tea."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-64-

Matt went back to Sabena's hotel in the center of town and after a very light
dinner of

soup and toast, the first food he had eaten for three days, he settled in for the night in
preparation

for his family's arrival the next day. Although still weak his spirits were high in
anticipation of

seeing Stephanie and the girls.

----------

The DC-4's four engines roared to screeching brakes as the pilot jockeyed the
blue, white

and silver plane to position on the ramp in front of the main airport building. Matt stood
behind

the barrier and strained to see if he could catch a glimpse of them through any of the tiny

windows. The plane came to a stop as the engines sputtered to silence and the door in the
side of

the fuselage swung open. Portable steps were wheeled into position in front of the doors
as the

black steward blocked the doorway above.

As the steward stepped aside, Stephanie and the children were the first ones to
appear in

the doorway. They started down the steps and he began to wave at the four blonde-headed

women. Their hair seemed to glisten in the sunlight. Stephanie was carrying Jenny and
walking
beside her holding Betsy and Lisa's hands was Jack Snow, the pilot to whom Albert
introduced

him the week before. Stephanie and the girls looked as though they were completely
exhausted.

She saw him then and began to wave wildly. As they passed through the gate Matt

embraced and kissed her, with Jenny pressed between them in Stephanie's arms.

"Hello, my wife."

She smiled a very tired smile. "Hello, my husband." She frowned. "You've lost a
lot of

weight. What's wrong?"

"Just a little dysentery. I'm fine, now that you're here."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-65-

He took Jenny from her and kissed and hugged her. She was so exhausted that she
felt like

a rag doll in his arms. Handing her back he knelt down and swept the two other little
blondes into

his arms, kissing them repeatedly.

"Jack," he said looking up, "thanks much. It's obvious you know my family."

"As soon as I saw them boarding the plane I knew who they were. Your office in
Leo told

us what flight they would take and it turned out to be mine. You have a lovely family,
Matt."

"Thanks very much, Jack," Stephanie said. "I don't know what we would have
done if you

hadn't made arrangements for us to rest comfortably. When we get settled into our home
you
must come visit with us."

"I'd like that. Well - got to go. Remember, anything we can do just let us know."

After clearing the baggage they stacked part of it on the roof rack of the VW, Matt
having

arranged for the balance to be sent by truck. Shortly after they pulled out of the parking
lot the

three girls were sound asleep in the small back seat. Matt talked about Bukavu, their
house with

the winding stairs that she had always wanted, their new life, the business. Stephanie
strained to

stay awake but was so tired that she kept falling asleep.

As she slipped deeper into sleep in the seat beside him her last thoughts were of
the

uncertainty of the life to which she and her children were going. She prayed to God that
she was

doing the right thing.

'But..., Matt will take care of us,' she thought sluggishly. 'He knows what he's
doing.

Anyway, he wouldn't do anything that would not be good for us, or place us in danger.'

With that comforting thought she fell sound asleep. Matt glanced at her and
stopped

talking. He reached over and took her took her hand, squeezing it tightly.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-66-

The little blue car sped along the rolling black asphalt strip up through the Ruzizi
Valley

carrying it's occupants to a way of life and events that few, if any, could have imagined.
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-67-

CHAPTER 4

It had been one week since Stephanie and the girls arrived. Matt was in the office
of the

Lenoirs reviewing inventory requirements with Yves and Robert when one of the
warehouse

laborers stepped in saying something to Robert in Swahili. Robert turned to Matt.

"He says there is a man outside who has expressed interest in being your house
boy."

"Would you please tell him we hired a house boy at the beginning of the week and
we

don't need one now."

Robert translated to the black who then turned and left. They began their
discussion again

when the same worker appeared in the doorway and spoke to Robert.

"Monsieur Miller," Robert said, "the man wants very much to talk to you and will
not go

away until he does."

Matt was annoyed. "How did he find out about me anyway? How did he know to
come

here?"

"The word spreads quickly with the blacks about new arrivals and possibilities for

employment," Yves Lenoir said. "I would bet they somehow knew you were coming even
before

you arrived."

Matt asked for Robert's help in translating and they followed the employee out
into the
courtyard. Standing there was a man who looked to be in his thirties and who could not
have

weighed more than one hundred pounds soaking wet. He was certainly no more than five
feet tall,

ebony black skin and a wisp of a scraggly goatee. He was dressed in baggy khaki trousers
and an

equally baggy khaki shirt. Matt noticed that he and his clothes were spotlessly clean.

The little man made it clear to Robert in Swahili that he spoke a little French and
that his

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-68-

name was Sebastian.

"He indicates that you should fire the man you presently have and hire him,"
Robert

translated. "He knows you will be much happier with him and the other man will be no
good."

"Does he know Christopher, our new house boy?" Matt asked.

After an exchange of words Robert said, "He says no, but he has seen him at your
house

and he knows he will be lazy and no good. He also says that no matter who it would be
you and

your wife will be much happier with him."

Matt smiled. "I'm impressed by his confidence and persistence, however, please
tell him

we must at least give the other man a chance."

Following the meeting with Sebastian that day there were very few days
afterwards that

Matt did not notice the little black man either lingering by the Lenoir's or standing a short
distance

from the house watching. Matt was a little concerned at first, but when questioned about
why he

was hanging around he said he was waiting for Mandami and Bwana to let him know
they needed

him.
---------

Madame Lenoir told Matt and Stephanie that a newly married American couple
who were

Baptist missionaries lived at the tip of the same peninsula as the Millers. Although the

predominant white man's religion in the Congo was Catholic, others, particularly
Protestant, were

allocated defined geographical areas in which to work and establish mission stations.
Kivu

Province contained mostly Baptist missionaries with the provinces of Katanga and Kasai
home to

many Methodists and Presbyterians.

The Millers were Lutheran and had been fairly regular churchgoers so they
decided not

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-69-

only to meet the couple since they were the only other Americans in Bukavu, but wanted
to

determine if there were any church services available.

Florence and Peter Hanscom both answered the door. They looked to be about the
same

ages as Stephanie and Matt.

"Good morning," Stephanie said. "We're the Millers who have just moved here.
We
apologize for intruding like this, but are you Florence and Peter Hanscom?"

"Yes we are," Florence smiled, "and it's all right. We heard about your coming.
News

travels fast here. Come in, please."

Peter extended his hand with a vigorous handshake to both Stephanie and Matt.
He was

slightly shorter than Matt but much stockier with muscular arms and a broad chest.

"Hello, and welcome to Bukavu! You beat us to it. We were going to come and
visit you

first."

The girls were introduced and Florence called the house boy from the kitchen and
ordered

lemonade for all.

"We not only wanted to meet you," Stephanie said, "but we would also like to find
out if

there are any church services in the area that we could attend. We're Lutheran and we
understand

you are Baptist missionaries."

During the ensuing two hours they found that Florence and Peter had been
married only

four months. They were married while Peter was in The United States conducting a one
year tour

speaking before church congregations and various groups to raise money for their
missionary

work. This was in conjunction with home leave that was taken once every five years.
They had

first met some years earlier while attending college. When Peter returned to Congo after
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-70-

graduation their continued correspondence culminated in marriage almost seven years


later.

It was in 1919 shortly after the end of World War I that Peter's Father and Mother
arrived

from East Africa at the then small bush village of Costermansville, later to be named
Bukavu, as a

young couple intent on helping and caring for the natives while imparting their religious

persuasion upon them. Peter Senior was a medical doctor and dentist and his wife, Mae, a

registered nurse. Over the years they established churches throughout Eastern Kivu
Province that

eventually were headed by black pastors who had demonstrated they were the most
faithful and

receptive to Christian teaching. For the most part the churches were nothing more than

thatched-roof mud huts or under banana leaf-covered shelters in the bush.

Doctor Hanscom established a reputation in central and east Africa that rivaled
that of

Doctor Albert Schweitzer in West Africa. He was respected and looked up to by Whites
and

revered by Blacks. Generations of natives owed their health and lives to the efforts of the
elder

Hanscoms and the many missionaries that followed in their footsteps. As a result of their
efforts

mission stations were established along a line running a distance of approximately 350
miles from

Usumbura in the south to Bunia far to the north in the area of the Mountains of the Moon.
A main

mission compound was constructed in the north containing a number of schools, a large
hospital
and outpatient clinic, a church and a group of small houses for a missionary staff that had
grown

quite large over the years. As this station grew and others were founded more and more

missionaries were recruited and logistics became a problem.

Some years earlier a decision was made to use Bukavu as supply point because of
it's

strategic location. Peter Junior had been living there as a bachelor and performing these
duties

while carrying out mission work with the local natives and maintaining the church that
had been

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-71-

started by his parents some years earlier.

The younger Peter was born and raised on the main mission station in the north
with his

only exposure to The United States having been the one year fund raising trips to The
States

every five years and his four years at college. He was fluent in two of the tribal tongues
of the

north as well as Swahili and French. It did not take long, however, for both Stephanie and
Matt to

recognize that Peter was fiercely proud of being an American.

They found that Peter conducted church services in French every Sunday morning
in their

living room for a handful of Protestant Belgians that lived in and around Bukavu.
Occasionally

some of the missionary families visiting from the bush would attend. Stephanie was
particularly
happy to have someone close at hand in case of need since Matt would be traveling so
much. It

was the beginning of a very close friendship, especially for Stephanie and Florence.
Hardly a day

would go by that they did not talk to or see each other.

----------

Stephanie was in the bedroom dressing Jenny when she heard a light tap on the door.

Opening it she was confronted by their house boy Christopher.

"Mandami, I am ill and must go to hospital."

"What's wrong?"

"I do not know, but I believe I must go now. I am hot with fever."

"You go downstairs and get ready. I'll be down quickly."

After dropping the girls off to stay with Florence Stephanie drove Christopher to
the

native hospital situated at the edge of the native quarter where medical attention and
medicine

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-72-

were provided free to the Africans. The outpatient facilities where somewhat crude and
open-air

but served the purpose for which they were intended.

The lines for treatment were always long and unless emergency treatment was
needed you

waited your turn. Whites almost never accompanied blacks, but by the time they arrived
at the

hospital Stephanie was practically carrying Christopher. She helped him to the front of
the line to
a native who was wearing a white coat. As she approached him he quickly stood up.
Speaking

Swahili she said, "He is very sick. I do not know what it is. Can you take him quickly?"

"Ndiyo, Mandami!" He rushed around the desk and put the limp Christopher's
arm over

his shoulder and struggling with him took him through the door directly behind them.

"I'll wait here," Stephanie called after him. She sat down on one of the crowded
wooden

benches lining the walls of the adjacent buildings.

A native woman was sitting to her right dressed in a bright native robe with a very
young,

naked baby in her arms. Thick mucous was running from the baby's nose down over it's
upper lip.

Stephanie smiled first at the baby and then at it's mother.

'Why is it,' Stephanie thought, 'that their babies seem to have perpetual colds and
runny

noses?'

Suddenly the mother bent over the face of her baby and placing her mouth over
the baby's

nose with a loud sucking noise cleaned and spat out the mucous.

Stephanie gagged and quickly turned her head. With tremendous effort she forced
the

thought of what she had just seen from her mind. She could not look in the direction of
the

woman and her child again.

Shortly the attendant reappeared and after locating Stephanie walked up to her.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-73-
"Mandami, it is not serious, but he must stay for shots and some medicine. It is a
severe

case of grippe. When he is done he will need to go home."

Relieved, Stephanie thanked him and turned to leave, making certain that she
avoided

looking at the woman who had vacuumed here child's nasal passages in such a manner.
Later

Florence told her that it was a common and very effective way to clean out the
continuously

running noses of their children.

As the days went by Stephanie began to realize that in spite of attempts to change

Christopher's habits he was lazy and constantly asking for salary advances well ahead of
when his

money was due. Finally one evening Matt came home and found himself being steered by

Stephanie into the privacy of his office.

"I've never had servants before, but if this is what it's like I can do without them. I
do all

the work and spend more time on Christopher's problems and needs that I do anything
else. I've

discussed it with Madame Lenoir and she thinks we should get rid of him."

"Okay. Let's not put it off any longer. Tomorrow we can ask the Lenoirs if they
know of

any good available house boys."

"What about that Sebastian fellow who keeps hanging around?" Stephanie asked.

"I don't know. He's so small. Persistent as hell, but small. How can he do the
work? You

know that as first house boy he would eventually need to help hire and manage the cook,
a
gardener and an apprentice helper."

"We could check his workbook and references to see if he's had any problems in
the

past," she said. "I know their workbooks can be doctored but we can contact his previous

employers. If his size bothers you how about me and most women? Are you saying that a
man

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-74-

who is about the same size as the average woman can't do as much work?"

He smiled. "All right. We'll check him out."

Thus began a relationship that saw Sebastian rapidly integrate as a member of the
Miller

family. He quickly became a very important part of their lives. In spite of his initial
aggressiveness

in attempting to get the job he turned out to be very soft-spoken and shy. Extremely
conscientious

he worked long hours, many times arriving at his usual 6:00AM starting time and
working until

long after late dinner when they would have guests. He was soon in complete control of
the

house, cleaning, buying groceries, dealing with the many peddlers that came to the door,
and until

a cook was hired he helped Stephanie with the cooking.

Sebastian was treated firmly but fairly. He recognized what was expected of him
and word

spread fast throughout the native quarter that these Americans expected much, but when
salaries

and weekly allowances were due they paid. Bwana worked hard and traveled much and
Sebastian
knew that he must take care of Mandami and the three golden-haired girls while he was
away.

Sebastian helped Stephanie select and hire Mungazi the cook, who happened to be
an old

friend of Sebastian. Then came Victor the gardener and last the young apprentice, Albert,
who,

following tradition, referred to Sebastian as 'Monsieur'. It was important that the head
house boy

participate in these hirings because he must bear the blame if any of them performed
poorly or

would steal, otherwise he could always blame Mandami for making a poor selection.

Mungazi the cook was something special. He was much older than Sebastian. He
could

prepare anything in any style once shown how to do it and he knew where to obtain all
the

ingredients required for whatever dish was prepared, many times improvising when
certain

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-75-

essential items were not available. He was also prudent, always managing to get the best
price. He

would bargain long and hard with the fishermen who would come off the lake early each
morning

and lay their flopping catch in front of him to choose.

Sebastian had warned that his friend drank much beer and every month Mungazi
would

disappear for three or four days after having been paid. At first Stephanie and Matt were
upset
and threatened to fire him, but they finally were resigned to accepting it. Sebastian
pointed out

that he always gave his weekly allowance, or "Posho", to his wife and two children and
in

Sebastian's estimation this made him a good husband and father.

A good many Europeans had live-in facilities for servants either in separate rooms
in the

house or in detached buildings, however, the Millers did not have quarters for servants
and their

employees lived in their own homes in the native quarter and villages close to Bukavu.

Occasionally Sebastian's wife would stop by with their two small children and take the

opportunity to talk to Stephanie whose Swahili and French were improving rapidly with
each

passing day. For the time being, Matt and Stephanie did not reciprocate by visiting
Sebastian and

his wife in their home, the native quarter supposedly not the place for Whites to go.

Tribal scars were cut into his wife's nose and cheeks to serve as beauty marks. She
wore

the brightly colored robes that most of the native women purchased in the native market,
but the

children were always completely naked.

Having now filled all of the open positions in her household staff with good,
competent

people, Stephanie established daily routines for everyone. An important part of their new
life had

been taken care of nicely, but it was a part that required the continuous management and
direction

of "Mandami' Miller.
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-76-

Matt paid the young Belgian couple and took the tiny dachshund home where he
became

the sixth member of the Miller family. They chose the name Fritz. His front legs were
abnormally

shorter than his hind legs, giving the impression he was walking downhill. Although he
would

become inseparable from the girls there was no doubt that he was Stephanie's. The little
dog

idolized her.

"I'll be going to Leopoldville next month for our first sales meeting."

The children had just been put to bed with the tiny dog at the foot of Betsy's bed,
with

Lisa and Jenny to receive their turns on subsequent nights. They had eaten their dinner
and in

European fashion Matt and Stephanie were now having theirs' served to them alone. They
had

come to enjoy these later, quiet meals. Seldom did they eat before eight or nine o'clock
now.

"Albert feels it's time we all got together to start developing next year's marketing
plan as

well as begin to formulate the four-year long range plan. He also wants to review first-
half, 1959

accomplishments at this midpoint."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Two weeks."

"I'm hearing things about 'Uhuru' - Independence - more and more," Stephanie
said, "from
both Whites and Blacks. Some of the things I'm hearing are beginning to worry me."

"Like what?" Matt forced himself to act unconcerned.

"You know, that the natives are being lied to and influenced by a small minority
of blacks,

many of whom have been trained in China and Russia. That with the promise of
independence by

the French and British to their colonies the Congolese will almost certainly demand the
same

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-77-

thing. To get their votes they are openly being promised things such as the White man's
house, his

car and - even his wife. Everything will be divided among them after Uhuru."

"I've heard the same things, but the Colons say they'll not permit it, even to the
extent of

seceding from Belgium, although that seems impossible to imagine. Most Whites think
that the

natives don't really know what independence means. There are reports that many of them
are

asking if it's coming by boat, car or train. But you're right about the promises. Everyone
and

anyone who wants a piece of the power makes them. Three men are emerging as the
strongest.

One is in Katanga and he's one of the very few successful black merchants in Congo.
Tshombe is

his name. Moise Tshombe. Another is Joseph Kasavubu, but the one we all keep reading
and

hearing about is the one from Stanleyville."

"You mean Patrice Lumumba," Stephanie said.


"Yes. The postal clerk. The Belgians seem more concerned about him than
anyone. He

can incite a crowd of otherwise peaceful blacks into a dangerous mob. They say he was
trained in

Russia."

"Well," Stephanie frowned, "I hope someone comes to their senses and develops a
plan to

begin educating them to a degree that will permit then to reason their way properly
through life. A

life that will become extremely difficult if they're not adequately prepared.

"Sebastian is really worried," she continued, "and you know he's not the type to
become

easily upset. He's concerned that if independence comes all the whites will leave,
including us. He

says he will go wherever we go, but we know that's impossible. I try to minimize the
whole thing

with all of them but it's all they think and talk about."

--------------

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-78-

He gazed out the small window of the DC-4 as it droned westward over central
Congo.

Matt was thinking about the upcoming conference. The thought of seeing Monique again
was

especially pleasing. He had no problem remembering every detail of her delicate features
and

slender, beautiful body.

Every thought of her was accompanied by a sense of guilt. His love for Stephanie
and this

desire to see Monique did not seem compatible at all. He rationalized that his thoughts
were only

normal male thoughts about a woman. 'After all, she is an excitingly lovely woman.'

Marcel had occupied his thoughts more and more in recent weeks. He was hearing
from

almost every visitor from Leo that he was drinking heavily. Albert had him traveling
constantly.

Since the engagement announcement and wedding Marcel and Monique had seen little of
each

other, and when they were together he was drunk. With every piece of news received
Matt's

dislike for Albert grew.

Marcel was waiting at the airport. Matt hardly recognized him. He was sullen and
looked

overly tired, frequently lapsing into brooding silence.

"How is Monique?" Matt asked as they pulled away from the airport.

"How the hell should I know! I never see her," he snarled. He shook his head.
"Sorry, that

was uncalled for. It has nothing to do with you."

They rode for some distance and then Matt broke the silence.

"Marcel, I've been hearing about how rough it's been for you and Monique, but
remember,

you were expecting just this to happen. Is it worse than you thought it would be?"

"Christ, yes! I never imagined anyone could be so hateful. That bastard is making
my life

miserable. He rides and ridicules me incessantly and always in front of others, especially
Monique.
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-79-

You know Monique is going to quit the company?"

"No, I didn't know. Is he making it difficult for her too?"

"Just the opposite, the son-of-a-bitch! He falls all over himself being nice to her.
But she

feels if she is not around he won't have as many opportunities to work me over in front of
her.

Some of the incentive will be gone. I told her it won't make any difference.

"You know, Matt, this whole thing is affecting my feelings about Monique. I fight
it, God

knows I fight it, but I think I am beginning to resent her for being the focal point in this
thing. Isn't

it rich? He's destroying us, and unless I am willing to give up this career I want so badly
he will

succeed."

Matt decided it was not the right time to bring up the drinking, but if what he had
been

hearing was true it was contributing as much to the problem as anything else.

"The agenda for the meeting shows a reception dinner tonight at The Zoo
Restaurant."

Matt said. "Is everyone here?"

"You are the last one in. You're staying at the Memling Palace Hotel this time.
Monique

and I will pick you up at seven."

Matt was waiting in front of the hotel when they pulled up in Monique's new Carmen
Ghia sports

car. Marcel was driving and as they drove up Monique smiled and waved. Throwing open
the

door she moved towards the center of the car between the two bucket seats.

"Hello, Matt. Hope you do not mind the squeeze but it's better than Marcel's
Beetle."

"Get in you son-of-a-bitch!" a drunken Marcel yelled. "Let's go show those


bastards

whose the best goddam salesmen in this goddam company!"

Matt slid into the seat beside her and in the limited space their sides and legs came

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-80-

together tightly as Matt closed the door behind him. He felt a surge of desire as he put his
left arm

over the top of the seat in back of her to make more room, it having the affect of drawing

them more closely together.

Acting as nonchalant as he could about their physical closeness he smiled. "I don't
mind

this at all. It gives me a chance to get as close as possible to you."

Their faces almost touched when they turned to talk to each other. Her nearness
coupled

with the strong fragrance of her perfume made him lightheaded. He looked into her deep
blue

eyes that were so perfectly shaded and accented. 'She is more beautiful than I had
remembered,'

he thought.

A long table had been prepared on the open verandah to accommodate 26 people.
The

dinner was excellent and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. All, that is, except
Marcel,
who was sullen and quiet. He was drinking more than anyone else at the table. Monique
kept

glancing in his direction.

Matt found that he could not keep his eyes off Monique. When their eyes met they
would

smile. He knew that the feeling he had went well beyond sympathy for her difficult
situation.

Following Albert's usual insistence they all went to one of the "Boites de Nuit",
night clubs,

for drinks and dancing. Marcel went straight to the bar and continued his drinking with
some

friends, leaving Monique at the group of tables that had been assembled for the others.
Marcel

was almost incapable of navigating.

Matt asked Monique to dance.

"I've been looking forward to this since last October," he said.

He drew her to him and they slowly and gracefully moved to the soft strains of
Nat King

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-81-

Cole's 'Unforgettable'. She rested her cheek against his, and after dancing in silence for a
while she

whispered, "Did you really mean what you said, about looking forward to this, or were
you just

being polite?"

"I meant what I said, Monique, and it was not just being polite. You..., and
Marcel.... are

very special to me."


They continued dancing in silence. He was totally aware of every part of her body
pressed

against his and the growing warmth of their bodies heightened his desire. They could hear

Marcel's loud voice from across the room, his speech slurred by the affects of the alcohol.

"I'm hearing things about Marcel that have me concerned, for both of you."

"It is difficult to talk here,", she replied without looking at him. "Some time
during your

stay we will have an opportunity to discuss it. I am certain Marcel has already said
something to

you, but I am afraid what Albert is doing to him and us cannot now be fixed."

The music ended and as they walked off the dance floor Matt noticed that Albert
had gone

to the bar and was speaking to Marcel. The look on Albert's face left no doubt that he was

berating Marcel who stood weaving and staring straight ahead and away from Albert, his
lips

pursed tightly and a look of pure hatred on his face. Albert turned and walked back to the
tables,

leaving a much subdued Marcel with his friends at the bar.

Monique did not sit down and turning to Matt said, "Do you mind if I go home
now with

Marcel? I am certain one of the others will take you back to the hotel. I'm sorry."

"No, not at all. You go right ahead. I'll be fine."

"Marcel will be asking you to have dinner with us one evening."

"Thank you, Monique. I'll be looking forward to it."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-82-
They kissed each others cheeks lightly and she worked her way over to Marcel
through

the now crowded nightclub. She spoke to Marcel and he turned to his friends and said
good-bye.

Looking in Matt's direction he waved and they left.

As Matt sat down Albert made a point of moving from his seat on the other side
of the

group of tables to sit next to him.

"Seems Monique goes for the Ami, "Albert said with a sneer. Albert had used the
name

for him that Europeans reserved for Americans when referring to them in a derogatory
manner.

Matt chose to ignore it.


.
"You mean because we danced? Then every woman in this place is trying to put
the make

on one or more men."

"No..., that is not what I mean. You can tell the way she looks at you. You bloody
Yanks!

You had better watch out for Marcel."

"I'm certain Marcel knows I have as much affection for him as I do for Monique."

"Oh yes, Marcel. I am afraid that things better change quickly in his attitude and
results or

I will need to make a change."

Matt was about to speak when they were interrupted by Walter and his wife.
"Matt,"

Walter said, "we're leaving now and if you would like we'll be drop you off at the hotel."

'Saved by the bell,' Matt thought.

They said their good-byes and left.


Monday morning the conference began. The days and nights that followed were
full of

planning sessions, sales and product discussions. It seemed that no matter what the
subject being

covered the conversation invariably came around to the problems being experienced in
both

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-83-

business and private lives as a result of the increasing clamor and actions by the
Congolese for

independence.

There were more and more reports of violence between police and the native
crowds that

were gathering to hear the inflammatory speeches and calls for self-determination. There
was

concern that the relatively small cadre of Belgian police and Army officers would lose
control

over the "Force Publique", the Congolese that had been trained by the Belgians to
maintain order.

Would they attack fellow blacks if called upon to do so?

Black nationalists were becoming more and more outspoken, particularly the
firebrand

from the north, Patrice Lumumba. Joseph Kasavubu was a moderate but his call for
independence

was just as clear. To the south in Katanga, Moise Tshombe was openly accepting the
backing and

support of many Europeans since he strongly favored the coexistence of whites and
blacks but in

a country independent of Belgium. The Colons increasingly liked Tshombe's idea and
were bitter

about their Belgian government's increasing acquiescence. They felt they were being
betrayed and

abandoned after having worked hard in the development of the Congo in support of the
mother

country's economy and welfare.

Back in Belgium the average citizen made no secret of their dislike for Colons.
They

looked down upon them with disdain and any attempt by a Colon to return to Belgium

permanently was made extremely difficult and unpleasant. Signs were prominently
displayed in

places of business stating "No Colons Need Apply". This only increased their bitterness
and

determination not to relinquish control of Congo.

Albert announced the first day that construction of the factory in Elisabethville
would

begin at the end of July, one month away. He admitted that he was having a running battle

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-84-

with management in The United States, they suggesting delaying the project until the
political

situation became clearer. So far they had not ordered it stopped and he felt confident that
with the

information he was feeding them about current conditions and prospects for the future,
much of it

in direct contradiction to what he termed 'the worldwide news media's alarmist news
making at

any cost reports', all would proceed on schedule. Machinery and equipment were either
en route
or on order and all materials for the building construction were being delivered to the site.

"Our objective," he said, "is to have our conference in December of this year in

Elisabethville and hold our plant dedication and inauguration at the same time."

Matt saw Monique two more times that week at the usual dinner gatherings. He
looked

forward to each encounter and when he was away from her he found it difficult to
concentrate on

anything other than thoughts of her.

Marcel's drinking would start at lunch and continue until the early hours of the
following

morning. He was sullen and non communicative during the meetings but became loud
and

boisterous at night. It was almost impossible to carry on a coherent conversation with him

because it would shortly disintegrate into foul language that made no sense.

As they sped along to the house that Marcel and Monique had moved into after
their

marriage, Matt was amazed that Marcel was able to sit up let alone drive the car with the
amount

of alcohol he had consumed since noon. He decided this was as good a time to talk as
any.

"Marcel, if we are friends, and I'd like to think that we are, we must discuss
something. I

don't know what it can lead to or resolve, but possibly just talking about it, getting it off
our

chests, might help."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-85-
"I think our friend Albert is resolving it for all of us," Marcel said sarcastically.

"What do you mean?"

"He told me today that I am being transferred to Elisabethville to work under


Jason who

will now spend a good part of his time on the factory project. He needs assistance in the

purchasing function, or so Albert says, and I am to provide it because of my experience at


Union

Miniere."

"When does this come about?"

"I must be there by the end of this month. He says it will only be temporary and
that

Monique can stay on here until the project is finished when I supposedly will return."

"He's being pretty damned obvious about his intentions," Matt said incredulously.
"I can't

believe this. What does Monique say?"

"0f course she will not stay here. She will move with me." He forced a cynical
laugh.

"Actually she is happy about this. She says that it is a chance to get away from him."

"She may be right."

"Damn it Matt, I am sliding backwards. I am becoming a failure! And you should


not fool

yourself the way Monique has. He has calculated both ways. He will be in E'ville just as
much as

he will be here because of the factory project."

"How can the man think that Monique will ever have anything to do with him?"
Matt said
.
"She detests him."
"That is what motivates the sick bastard. He thinks in some warped way that the
more he

has me around to degrade and ridicule, the more he destroys me, the more likely she will
turn

away from me and go to him."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-86-

"But that's ridiculous!"

They rode in silence for a while and then Matt decided to try again.

"Marcel...., the drinking. Why?"

"Now don't you start. I get enough from Monique. Anyway, my dear friend Albert
told me

from the beginning that most business is conducted over a glass. He has insisted that in
my

contacts I make drinking companions of all my customers."

"But, Marcel, don't you see..."

"I know what he's doing," he interrupted, "but it helps me forget that slimy bastard
that

just demoted me. Forget it!"

The dinner was superb and expertly served by their house boy. As usual Marcel
drank at

least double that of Monique and Matt and by the end of the dinner he was completely

intoxicated.

"Lez have coffee." he said thickly. Getting up from the chair he lost his balance
and

grabbed the table cloth pulling some of the dishes crashing to the floor. Matt jumped up
and
caught him just before he fell and struggled with him into the living room where he
lowered him

into a chair. He had passed out completely.

"I am sorry, Matt." Monique said disconsolately. "This cannot be much fun for
you."

"The dinner was excellent, Monique, and I enjoy being here with you." He pulled
Marcel

up out of the chair. "Let's get him to bed."

Matt slung Marcel's arm over his shoulder and managed to get him into the
bedroom

where he undressed him and put him in bed. Marcel occasionally mumbled foul words in
reference

to Albert. They covered him, closed the door and walked into the living room.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-87-

"I have a problem," Matt said. "I don't have a clue how to drive back to the hotel
or I'd

borrow your car. I know there are no taxis this late."

"I will take you."

"No you won't! You'd have to drive back here by yourself and that's too
dangerous."

"But I will take our house boy with me."

"No!" Matt said emphatically. "You know as well as I he'd provide no protection.
He

would disappear at the first sign of trouble."

"Then you will need to stay the night. You can use the guest bedroom. Do you
mind?"

"I don't like to inconvenience you but I guess I have no choice. Can we have
coffee first?"

While the house boys were cleaning up they sat facing each other in the living
room over

coffee and cognac. Her exceptionally short dress gave the impression that she had only a

hip-length garment on and sitting with her smooth, darkly tanned legs crossed Matt found
it

difficult to concentrate on anything but them. The satin-like dress was low cut revealing
small,

perfectly shaped breasts.

"You know we are moving back to E'ville?"

"Yes. Marcel told me tonight."

"Do you go there often?"

"I haven't been there yet. But with the factory underway and meetings to be held
there I'm

sure I'll be visiting there from time to time."

"I hope so. I...., both Marcel and I would feel badly if we would not have the
opportunity

to see you occasionally." She paused. "How are Stephanie and the girls?"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-88-

"They're fine. Stephanie is busy with running a house full of children and house
boys. She's

also taken on a lot of community work, particularly with the natives. She works at the
native

hospital and does some work in the mission churches with a missionary woman who has
become

her closest friend. The woman has been a salvation for Stephanie. I travel so much that I
don't get
to see them very often. Many times I'm gone for two or three weeks at a time with almost
no

means of contacting her. One of them could be sick and dying and I'd have no way of
knowing.

Stephanie says the same thing about me. Hopefully when things become more established
I won't

need to be gone so much."

"Well," she stood up, "we must get up early to get you and Marcel in town for the

meeting. You will probably want to stop at the hotel first."

"Yes. Fortunately it's Saturday and the meeting will only last until noon."

"Come, I will show you to your room. Do you need pajamas? I can give you a
pair of

Marcel's."

"I can do without them. Thanks."

She led him to the room next to the master bedroom in which Marcel was now
sound

asleep. The house boys had long since left.

"This is it," she said stopping in front of the door. "If you need anything please
call."

Touching her arm lightly he leaned forward and brushed each of her cheeks with
his in the

accepted fashion. Her closeness required every effort not to lose control. As he moved his
face

away from hers she remained immobile, looking searchingly into his eyes. He slowly
slipped his

arms around her narrow waist and drew her to him.

She did not resist as he pressed his lips to hers. She surrendered completely to the
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-89-

embrace and began to slowly move her body back and forth against his. He was aroused

immediately and when she became aware of it she pressed her hips against him harder.
They were

locked in an embrace that made them feel as one.

"Oh, Matt, I have thought about this moment so often and wondered how I could
bring it

about. I just knew you felt the same. You do, don't you?"

In the half darkness, his face-next to hers, he hesitated. "Monique.... I..."

"No - wait," she interrupted placing her fingers on his lips, "that was not fair. Say
nothing.

Let me believe what I want to believe. I do not want to take the chance of having this
wonderful

thing spoiled."

"Monique, I would never want to do anything that would hurt you."

He held her tightly and kissed her again, more passionately than before, and she
responded

with her whole body. Matt felt as though he would explode at any moment. Still locked in
their

embrace he whispered to her. "I feel as though I'm betraying a friend. A friend who is
sleeping

right in that room."

"Please, mon amour. There is no longer any love between Marcel and me.
Possibly never

really enough to sustain our marriage no matter what would have happened. We have
known each

other too long not to realize this and be honest about it. We have already talked of
separating

once we get back to Elisabethville. Nothing can stop it."

He stepped back away from her. "I want you so much, Monique. You can't
imagine how

difficult and probably how very stupid it is for me to say this, but this is not the time or
place for

this. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I will do anything you ask. You will never know how much I desire you
right now."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-90-

He leaned forward and kissed her softly. "Goodnight, Monique."

"Bonne nuit, mon cher." She turned and disappeared into the bedroom.

Matt stood there for a few moments wondering whether he had been a fool. Then
he

turned and went into his bedroom. 'I need more time,' he thought. 'to think this through
and where

it could lead. Right now I'm not thinking clearly enough to reason things out.'

Neither of them slept that night. Each felt the presence of the other close by, but
they

resisted temptation time and time again. With the dawn came a feeling that left Matt
wondering if

it was remorse for not having experienced what could have been or for not discouraging
the small

encounter they did have.

Over the next week the days and nights were full of conference activities. Matt
saw

Monique often but they had no opportunity to be alone again.


He caught a taxi to the airport from the hotel. Albert had sent Marcel to
Elisabethville for

a few days in preparation for the move he was to shortly make. Monique made it clear
that she

was moving with Marcel and would not continue to work for the company. She felt that
by

eliminating her daily presence it might reduce Marcel's problems with Albert. Albert was
livid but

there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

Matt was standing alone against the wall of the airport waiting lounge expecting
his flight

to be announced at any moment when he felt someone lightly touch his arm. He turned to
face

Monique.

"Matt. I could not let you leave without seeing you again."

"I'm glad you came. We haven't had a chance to talk since that night."

"Have you changed your mind about us?" she asked. "I have wondered so often
since

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-91-

then."

"No, I haven't. Have you?"

"Although I felt it to be impossible I feel more strongly than before. It was very
difficult to

be so close to you all this past week and know we would have little chance of being alone
again

before you would be leaving. You were right, Matt..., about our waiting. I do not know
where or
when it will be, but I live for that moment."

They announced his flight departure. He leaned forward and kissed her on both
cheeks

with the kisses lingering longer than normal. As he pulled away and just loud enough for
him to

hear her above the noise of the crowded room she said, "Please come back to me soon."

He turned and she watched him disappear through the door to the concourse that
led to

the waiting plane."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-92-

CHAPTER 5

He had wired ahead and Stephanie was waiting for him as he disembarked from
the DC-3.

"Hello, my wife." He held her tight and kissed her."

"Hello, my husband," she said unsmiling. "The girls are at home with Sebastian."

"Are they all right? Any problems? What's wrong?"

"They're fine and so am I now that you're home. But Matt," and tears welled up in
her

eyes. "Florence and Peter are moving away. I don't know what I'm going to do without
her."

He put his arm tightly around her shoulders as they walked to the car. "Where are
they

going?"

"To the main mission station up north. They're changing places with his parents.

Apparently the work on such a large station has become too much for Doctor and Mrs.
Hanscom." She had regained control of herself. "The attitude of the natives is changing
rapidly.

Some who have been Christians all of their lives are reverting back to tribal customs and
with very

little persuasion by a few trouble makers. They can't believe what's happening. Doctor
Hanscom

feels the stronger more youthful hand of Peter is needed. You know how much they
respect the

younger Peter. He grew up with them."

"When do they leave?"

"In two weeks. Doctor and Mrs. Hanscom arrive here one week later after they've
had an

opportunity to turn over the station to Peter and Florence. Oh, Matt, what will I do
without her?

You know what her friendship has meant to me with you gone most of the time. I like
Mrs.

Hanscom very much but our interests are entirely different."

"Things always have a way of working out," he said. "I'll try to stay closer to
home for

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-93-

these next few weeks until things settle down. I'll restrict my traveling to the shorter trips
for

awhile."

Peter and Florence moved two weeks later and it had it's affect on Stephanie. Matt
tried to

comfort her, but for a time she seemed lost without the person whose presence provided a
degree

of what she had left behind so many thousands of miles away.


When the older Hanscoms arrived one of the first things they did was to call on
the

Millers. Florence and Peter had told them how hard their departure had been on
Stephanie. They

went to great lengths to ease the pain and fill the void. Stephanie continued the same
work with

Mrs. Hanscom and Doctor Hanscom took over Peter's duties, including Sunday church
services in

the living room. He also provided medical and dental help for everyone in the area
including Matt

and his family.

Matt promised Stephanie that in November they would drive north to visit
Florence and

Peter for a few days. He could conduct some business in the area and then they would
drive back

through Uganda and stay in Queen Elizabeth Park to see the wild game.

It was to be a trip that would have been better not taken.

-----------

"To jail! What for?"

"He's in serious trouble. You know Sebastian. He hasn't asked for help but if we
don't

assist him in some way he will probably have to go to prison."

Matt had just returned from a short trip to the south.

"But why?"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-94-

"You know I give the house boys little things like old clothing, pots and pans,
dishes,
some of which we would be throwing away. Because of the increase in robberies the
police made

a surprise inspection in the native quarter and when they found items that looked out of
place or

stolen they confiscated them. They took all the things that I gave him and they're
accusing him of

stealing. They also took some of his money since he seemed to have more than the
average native.

You know how he saves.

"He must report to the police post at the edge of the native quarter next week and
he's

afraid of what will happen to him if he can't prove he didn't steal the things they found."

"Are all of the things really items that you gave him?"

"He tells me they are."

After breakfast the next morning Matt confronted Sebastian in the kitchen where
he was

working with Mungazi. Matt had developed the habit of communicating with them in
French since

his command of Swahili was limited.

"Sebastian, Mandami tells me that you must go to the police next week."

"Ndiyo, Bwana. I am being accused of stealing and I have not. Many are being
thrown

into prison, some rightly, some wrongly."

"Tomorrow we will go to the police together and prove that you did not steal,"
Matt said.

Sebastian was flabbergasted. 'Why should he do this? How did the Bwana know
whether

the items were stolen or not? He only has my word that I am not a thief.'
They walked up to the dirty gray one room building at the edge of the native
quarter that

housed the gendarme on duty. He was dispensing justice to a long line of natives that
stretched

some distance down the side of the hill. Matt stepped into line with Sebastian beside him.
As he

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-95-

did he noticed that the natives were whispering and gesturing at him.

"Bwana," Sebastian said, "why are we standing in line? You can go right to the
front.

They all think this is very strange."

"We will wait our turn, Sebastian."

After slowly progressing to the front of the line they stepped inside the building
and as

they did the gendarme caught sight of Matt and beckoned him forward. Matt shook his
head and

in French said, "We will wait."

The uniformed policeman was sitting at a small scratched and worn wooden table,
the only

piece of furniture in the room apart from the chair on which he was sitting. Beside him on
the

floor was a battered large briefcase from which he kept taking documents. It was a dreary,
dirty

place, it's only purpose being for what it was presently used.

As they stepped up to the table. the man said in Flemish, "What can I do for you?"
He had

ignored the fact that Matt had spoken to him in French.


"I am afraid I do not speak Flemish," he said, again in French. "I am an American
and can

only speak French."

Arrogantly shrugging his shoulders and now speaking in French he said, "For me
it makes

no difference. What can I do for you?"

"Sebastian tells me his house was searched and that some of his personal
belongings and

money were confiscated. I am here to prove he is not a thief."

Sebastian beamed, glancing at the other natives to see if they had heard. They had
now

crowded around the door, no longer interested in standing in line but only wanting to hear
why

the white man had accompanied Sebastian.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-96-

"How do you plan to do that?"

"If I look at the items and swear that they are things he has been given by us, and
if they

are not I will also tell you so, is that proof enough?"

"Yes, of course," he answered, "but we can arrange it for some other time, say ....,
next

week. You can come back then."

"Where are the items?" Matt asked.

"In the small building back there," he said gesturing with his head. "but I have no
time now."

"I understand that if Sebastian cannot prove by next week that he did not steal
these things

he will go to prison. I will be traveling next week and will not be here. Is it possible for
us to do it

now?"

"We are the dogs of the world," the officer shouted angrily. He slammed back the
chair

and grabbing a ring of keys started out the door. "Come along!"

They went into a large building in back and Sebastian quickly identified his goods
among

the stacks and piles of articles of every description. Matt noticed they had tagged all of
the

personal belongings with the names of those who had possessed them. He examined the
items that

Sebastian claimed belonged to him. There were some clothes he recognized, decorative
items,

used linens and a number of things that Stephanie had described to him. Sebastian stood
off to

one side waiting anxiously while the gendarme fidgeted impatiently.

Matt finally turned to the policeman. "These are the things that we have given
him. If

necessary my wife will also verify it. Can we take them?"

"Yes, Yes! Let us get them out of here!"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-97-

"And what about his money? Where is it?"

"I will make out a document that you can take to the main station. We can
presume that if

he did not steal these other things the money is also his."
"Thank you very much officer. You have been most kind."

They filled the four cloth bags they had brought with them and walked out,
stopping long

enough to get the document for Sebastian's money. By this time there was a large
gathering of

watching natives outside.

Matt, carrying two of the bags and followed by an obviously very proud
Sebastian, walked

the few steps up the hill to the edge of the native quarter. Sebastian hurriedly walked past
him and

turned.

"I will take those now, Bwana. You can return home and I will be there shortly. I
thank

you very much for believing me. As you can see these are rightfully ours."

"You cannot carry all four bags, Sebastian. If you leave these two here they will
be gone

when you come back. I will help you to your home." He started forward.

Sebastian hesitated. Matt turned and smiled. "Come on, lead the way!"

Throwing his two bags over his shoulders and almost knocking himself down,
Sebastian

started up the hill in between huts placed so close together that much of the sunlight was
blocked

out by the overhanging thatched roofs. The ground was trodden bare of any vegetation
and was

full of ruts and gullys created by tropical rains. For the most part they formed the sewage
system

for the whole native quarter that was home for a population that varied from 15,000 to
20,000.
There was no running water save that which was found in communal spigots placed in
various

locations in the quarter. The huts were all of mud and thatch with some of them having
pieces of

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-98-

corrugated or flat metal over some sections of the roof.

Children seemed to be everywhere, very few of whom had any clothes on. Matt
knew that

in these mountains it could become quite cold and damp after dark, particularly in the
rainy

seasons. These children as well as adults must surely suffer from the cold.

They went deeper into the quarter and now he could see black faces peering out of

doorways and the occasional window.

"They are curious, Bwana," Sebastian said, "and do not know what to expect from
your

being here."

They came to a circular hut whose peaked thatched roof was only a few feet
higher than

Matt's head when he stood erect. The walls were of mud and there was a small opening
that

formed a door that was barely four feet high. Another small square opening about
halfway up the

wall was the only other light source. Sebastian turned to Matt in front of the door. "Please
wait

here, Bwana," and he disappeared into the semi-darkness of the hut.

As he stood waiting Matt heard muffled, excited conversation inside the hut. He
detected
some movement and turning around faced a growing number of children and adults
staring at him

curiously.

Sebastian appeared in the doorway. Taking the two bags from Matt he said,
"Please enter,
Bwana."

He stooped and went into the half darkness and as his eyes quickly adjusted he
saw

Sebastian's wife sitting at the opposite end of the small circular room with one naked
child in her

lap and the other sitting beside her.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-99-

"Salamu sana, Bwana Mukumbwa!" she smiled.

In the middle of the room on the hardened earth floor was a small fire surrounded
by rocks

upon which sat one of Stephanies's old pans filled with water. She was dressed in her best
and

most colorful African robe. All had been hastily done while he was standing outside.

Smiling, Matt acknowledged her greeting and turning to Sebastian said, "Well,
Sebastian,

I will now return. I am glad everything worked out all right." He turned to speak to
Sebastian's

wife.

"Uh...., Bwana.., would you have tea with us?" His look was full of apprehension.

Matt started to say no, then changed his mind. "Yes! I certainly would."

Turning quickly Sebastian said something to his wife in their tribal tongue. She
smiled
broadly revealing the sharply pointed teeth that had been filed for cosmetic reasons. It
was a

beauty treatment that both men and women endured in some tribes. She motioned Matt to
the

ground just opposite her.

The only conversation was between Sebastian and Matt since his wife spoke only
Swahili

and their tribal language. When the water began to boil she dropped in the small
brownish leaves

while stirring it with a smooth wooden stick. She poured the contents of the pan into
three tin

cups and the three of them sat silently sipping their tea. After they finished Matt rose to a
stooped

position to accommodate the low ceiling.

"Thank you very much for your kind invitation. I must return now."

"I will go with you." Sebastian said. "I have lost almost half a day's work and
Mandami

needs me."

Sebastian was bursting with pride as they walked down into the town below.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-100-

In the nine months since Matt's arrival in Congo Albert had forced Marcel to
travel

constantly with the obvious objective of keeping him away from Leopoldville and
Monique.

Included in his travels were three trips to Bukavu, ostensibly to work with Matt to benefit
from

Matt's successful methods and his product knowledge. Each trip lasted two weeks and it
afforded
Marcel the opportunity to come to know Stephanie much better.

It did not escape Matt's attention that Marcel seemed to be on his best behavior
when they

were with Stephanie. His drinking was kept to a minimum and he was the Marcel that
Matt had

met when he first arrived in Congo.

Stephanie never saw the other Marcel - the Marcel that was rapidly wrecking his
life. She

found it impossible to believe what everyone was saying about him. On the contrary, she
was

impressed by this dark, handsome European whose manners were impeccable.

He was struck by Stephanie's beauty and her charming and disarming sense of
humor. On

more than one occasion he made it quite clear how lucky Matt should consider himself
for having

a woman who seemed to possess everything a man could want.

But when they were traveling together and there was no prospect of seeing her
soon it

was a constant battle for Matt to keep him sober. Matt attempted every way possible to

discourage the drinking. It seemed that the man was deliberately punishing himself and
any

attempt to convince him that he was also punishing those who loved him was lost in the
ocean of

alcohol in which he was drowning.

--------------

Because Albert Fouquet had only made two quick trips to Bukavu since their
arrival

Stephanie's exposure to him was minimal. This trip was to be different. After picking him
up at

the Bukavu airport and dropping him off at the hotel, Matt was standing at the sink
shaving when

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-101-

Stephanie came up the stairs.

"Well that's done!" she said starting to undress. "Sebastian has everything under
control

and all of them are doing their duties. Should be a nice dinner."

As she stepped into the shower and turned the water on she raised her voice above
the

noise. "How long did you say he will stay this time?"

"Ten days. We'll spend tomorrow morning and lunch here with the Lenoirs. Then

tomorrow afternoon we drive to Goma. The following day we continue north to visit
most of our

dealers in that area plus a couple of big customers as far up as Bunia. We expect to be
back next

Saturday afternoon." He took two swipes across his face with the razor. "I know you told
me

who's coming tonight, but who is it again?"

"Madame and Monsieur Lenoir, Robert Lenoir and his fiancee' Yvette, your friend
the

Volkswagen dealer and his sexy wife Marie, and of course Albert."

He finished shaving as she stepped out of the shower. As she grabbed a towel to
dry

herself he reached over and pulled it away from her while dropping his own to the floor.
He

wrapped his arms ground her dripping wet body.


"You know - speaking of sexy," he said, "there's a naked woman in my
bathroom," and he

kissed her.

"Funny, there's a strange, naked man in my bathroom."

"He's strange all right," Matt smiled. "He would have to be to bring you and those
three

little girls here. How many times I've been bouncing along those bush roads in the jungle,
miles

from nowhere, and have asked myself , what the hell am I doing here?"

He pulled her close to him again. "I love you, Stephanie, more than you'll ever
know."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-102-

"I love you, Matt. You're my whole life." Not too forcefully she pushed him away.
"In a

few seconds I'm going to be involved in something for which we don't have time right
now. We

must get dressed." She turned and walked into the bedroom.

"Matt."

"Yes?"

"Tell me what you really think of Albert."

"That sounds like a leading question. Why?"

"I know he's your boss, but he ...., there's a certain.., I don't know..., arrogance
about him.

I've noticed he doesn't hesitate to criticize anything and everything, especially The United
States

and Americans."
"I know. He does it without provocation. Out of the blue he'll start talking about
what he

sees are shortcomings of The United States and Americans. At times he acts as though
he's baiting

us."

"I'd say he seems like someone who is envious," she said. "It's strange coming
from a man

who is doing very well working for an American company."

Matt thought about how the man they were discussing was attempting to destroy
Marcel.

He had not told Stephanie. Albert's difficulties interfacing with people were problematic
enough

without turning her against him before she could make up her own mind. 'After all,' he
thought, 'I

have to get along with the man.'

The dinner went well and Matt whispered congratulations to Stephanie as they all
moved

to the living room for coffee and drinks. She was pleased and had made it known to
Sebastian.

"How is your business going overall, Monsieur Lenoir?" Albert asked.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-103-

"Not too badly. We are having some problems with collections but so far nothing
serious.

It seems that many customers are getting into the habit of only paying when someone
personally

calls on them."

"Yes," Robert said, "and I have become the collection agency. I now set aside a
few days

at the beginning of each month to go out and collect money."

"We have a minor crisis with one of our drivers," Monsieur Lenoir continued.

"Unfortunately he is the oldest one in service and age. Robert had suspected he was
stopping at

his house in the native quarter and then the native bar afterwards when he should have
been out

making deliveries and pickups. Robert followed him twice this past week and both times
he did

it."

"Once he wasted two hours and the other time over one hour," Robert added.

"What did he say when you confronted him?" Jacovides asked. Jean Jacovides,
the local

Volkswagen dealer, had become a close friend of Matt.

"He did not see me and I have not yet talked to him. Saturday was the second time
I

caught him at it. Tomorrow morning I will take care of it."

"They cannot seem to understand that they must give a full day's work for a full
day's

pay," Albert said. "I make what is expected of them quite clear when they are hired. All it
takes is

one mistake and they are out! There is no other way to do it, otherwise you will have
them all

behaving badly and eventually it would ruin your business."

"There must be times when there are legitimate reasons for them to miss work.
Sickness,

family problems and so forth," Stephanie said. "I know our house boys--"

"Women do not know of such things," Albert interrupted. "Strictest discipline


must be

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-104-

maintained even when they are sick, otherwise they will soon recognize the value of
being ill, real

or pretend. In any case, if they are sickly they are more trouble than they are worth. They
should

then be let go immediately once it is discovered." Turning to the others he continued.


"Have you

noticed how Americans have a penchant for pampering and overpaying the blacks? They
are the

same way with their women. That is why from time to time a European woman will
defect to a

Yank. For example, our Monique who has been working in our Leopoldville office is
quite taken

by one Matthew Miller and it is because he is so...., attentive." He laughed, but was not
joined by

anyone in the room, they all sitting in embarrassed silence.

Matt could not believe what he had just heard. Stephanie looked at him, her face
flushed.

In as calm a tone as he could muster Matt said, "I'm not certain I know what
you're talking

about, Albert, but I think a great deal of Monique as I do her husband, Marcel."

Stephanie quickly recovered and in a measured tone rushed to Matt's rescue. "I
met both

of them briefly on the way through Leopoldville and Marcel has spent some time with us
here in

Bukavu. I take it as an extreme compliment that such a beautiful, charming woman would
be
'taken', as you put it, with my husband."

"Very understanding," Albert said, noticeably irritated, "but to continue our


discussion,

the Americans in Leo are responsible for pushing up not only wages and spoiling the
blacks, but

rents are skyrocketing because of their willingness to pay any price. They are making it
difficult

for all of us."

Stephanie was now more furious than embarrassed. Before she could speak Matt
reacted.

"You're being unfair by generalizing about Americans, Albert, just as we would be if we

generalized about Belgians or any other nationality. I'm sure that there are some who are
doing

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-105-

what you say, but all are not that way. I know we pay no more than the going rates in this
area.

Our house boys miss no work unnecessarily and when they do we make certain it's for
legitimate

reasons. Our relationship with them, particularly Stephanie's, is one of not only
disciplined control

but also mutual understanding, trust and appreciation of each other's needs and desires."

"Ah, but you have not been here that long!" Albert responded. "What is it now,
eight or

nine months? Wait until you have had a belly full of them, as we have."

"I feel I must disagree with you, Monsieur Fouquet," Madame Lenoir said. "I
would like

to think I have the same relationship with ours as the Millers have with theirs. I know that
Madame Miller has developed excellent help, and it is common knowledge in Bukavu
that she

gets more work from hers than most. I hear our boys talking about it frequently."

"And I have heard the same things," Marie Jacovides interjected.

Stephanie was now genuinely embarrassed. "I thank all of you for the good news.
We

have been extremely lucky, especially with our head house boy, Sebastian. He has been
the one

most responsible for our managing to get the others."

Totally rebuffed Albert turned to Lenoir and snapped, "What time shall we see
you in the

morning, Monsieur Lenoir?"

"Shall we say eight o'clock. I need at least one hour before you arrive to get
everyone

moving."

"He really is a proper ass isn't he?"

Laying in bed in the quiet of their room they were both gazing through the large
glass

doors across the elevated terrace at the white shimmering path of moonlight that reflected
off the

lake below.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-106-

"He certainly put on a performance tonight," Matt responded. "There was a time
when he

could be rather nice, but I get the impression that the nicer moods are becoming fewer
and further

between."
The full moon and the light it shed over the lake and the foothills beyond revealed
the

shadowy shapes of the mountains that rose toward the sky in the distance.

"I don't envy you having to spend the next ten days with him." She rolled over
and put her

arms around him. There was a pause. "Matt."

"Yes?" He knew what was coming.

"Did you see much of Monique when you were in Leo?"

"You know she works for the company. I saw her in the office and also at some
dinners.

With the exception of the evening that she and Marcel invited me to dinner all of the
other

employees were there as well."

"What do you think of her?"

"Just what I said to Albert tonight." He raised himself on one elbow and faced her.
"You

really don't believe what he said do you? We talked earlier about how he is and you saw
him in

action tonight."

"Nevertheless, you be careful around these women who are 'taken' with you. And
also,

what did he mean by 'attentive'?"

"I'm afraid I don't know. I haven't treated her any differently than anyone else."

Reaching down he slowly inched her nightgown up to her waist and whispered, "I
think

that naked woman is back in my room again." He pulled her closer and with-the other
arm pulled
the sheer nightgown up and over her head.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-107-

"And here's that naked man again."

-----------------

There was a knock on the door that led into the warehouses and they all turned to
see an

older Black standing there.

"Bwana Robert, Jacob say you want see me."

"Ndiyo," Robert replied gruffly. "Go back to the warehouse and wait. I will be
there

shortly."

The driver turned and disappeared into the warehouse and they resumed their

conversation.

Finishing up their discussion Robert looked at Matt. "Come with me, Monsieur
Miller. I

would like to show you how this should be handled."

He followed Robert back through the racks of merchandise to an open area that
was used

for assembling goods for shipment where the driver was nervously waiting. Matt stood to
one

side as Robert walked up to the very frightened man. The Belgian was considerably taller
and

heavier than the very thin, older man.

Without any warning Robert clenched his right fist and in a sweeping arc brought
it

crashing against the left side of the man's face knocking him to the cement floor, his
nostrils and

upper lip spurting blood.

"Get up!" Robert yelled.

As the black man struggled to rise Robert grabbed at his arm and shirt tearing it
half from

him while pulling him upright.

Matt was caught completely off guard and started toward them, then checked
himself. He

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-108-

could not decide whether to stop Robert in an affair that was possibly none of his
business or just

leave. He was furious for letting himself be led to witness this.

Robert was ranting and raving at the driver about what he had done while at the
same time

shaking him violently, ripping the blue shirt completely off his back. As Matt turned and
walked

back toward the offices Robert struck him again knocking him against a rack along the
wall. The

small man slumped down in a whimpering, bloody heap.

As Matt reached the door leading into the office he turned and waited.

Robert walked up to him wrapping his bruised and scraped knuckles in a


handkerchief.

"That will hold him for awhile," he snarled.

"Robert," Matt said in unsuppressed anger, "in addition to what you just did to
that man ,

you were completely out of line in asking me to watch you. Each has his own methods,
and I find
yours to be abominable! I was wrong, dead wrong for not stopping you, but you and your
father's

friendship are required in our business relationship. But let me make something quite
clear here

and now. If I ever see you abuse a black like that again I'll break every bone in your
face!"

He turned and walked through the door leaving the gaping Robert staring after
him.

Matt had become expert in negotiating the sharp curves at a high rate of speed,
controlling

and jockeying the skidding car around them with minimal loss of speed and forward
motion. To

drive in any other fashion over this terrain would increase travel time to excessive levels.
As with

so many of the roads in this part of Africa it wound up and down the side of the mountain
and

quite often the car would speed along while skirting the edge of sheer drops to rocks and
the lake

far below. Just a momentary loss of control or a missed turn could mean disaster, an
occurrence

which took place all too frequently with trucks and automobiles alike.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-109-

The roads were so narrow in some places that meeting a vehicle coming from the
opposite

direction often required stopping and backing up until a wide enough section of road
permitted

passage. Some such sections were so long that they were posted in a manner that only
permitted
travel in one direction on certain days of the week.

Earlier they had talked about that morning's business discussions with the Lenoirs
but had

been driving for some distance in silence. Albert seemed to be dozing, pitching back and
forth

with the movement of the car.

Suddenly, his eyes still closed, Albert said, "What do you think of Marcel and
Monique's

marriage?"

Matt did not know how to respond. This was the first time Albert had volunteered
to

discuss the subject during all of these months since the marriage had taken place.

Albert opened his eyes and turned to Matt. "Well! What do you think?"

"I'm not sure how to answer your question. They were childhood sweethearts.
They seem

to love each other. What should I think? I would like to think any problems they have can
be

worked out."

"It will not work!" Albert said with finality. "He is a drunkard and she is much too
good

for him." He glanced at Matt looking for a reaction. "Have you noticed how embarrassed
and

humiliated she is of him?"

"I hadn't noticed. And by the way, Albert, I would like to think that your remarks
last

night about Monique's feeling for me was in fun. It could have caused unwarranted
problems if

my wife was less understanding."


"Would it really be unwarranted?"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-110-

Matt looked sharply at him and then quickly back to the road.

"What do you mean? It certainly would be! Why are you pursuing this subject?"

"It seems to me that you are becoming very upset over something that should be

insignificant, if in fact it is insignificant. I suggest we change the subject."

"An excellent idea."

After a brief silence Albert spoke. "Do you know that those fools back in The
States are

suggesting that we hold off on the factory project until, as they put it, the political
situation

becomes more clear. It has become a full time job just feeding them information to shut
them up.

We have gone too far with the government grants, hiring personnel and making
commitments for

property and equipment to back off now. I,..... the company would lose face and it would
be very

poor public relations if we postpone or cancel this project now."

Albert's slip was not lost on Matt and Albert knew it. Matt continued to wrestle
the car

around the sharp curves up and down the steep inclines to the accompaniment of the
whining

engine. The car bounced and skidded along the rough road surface. Matt fell silent, but he
was

finding it difficult to control the rage that boiled within.

"Are you communicating with anyone at head office in The States?" Albert asked,
again
without opening his eyes.

"Only with the Personnel Department on matters connected with damage to our
household

goods and the usual personal matters still being handled for us back there."

"Well I do not want you offering any information, thoughts or ideas to anyone
back there!

I have enough problems without having to contend with you communicating with your
friends and

cronies and complicating the situation further."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-111-

Matt fixed his eyes straight ahead and squeezed the steering wheel with both
hands in a

vise-like grip.

"Did you hear me?"

"I heard you," Matt replied through clenched teeth, his voice almost inaudible as
he swung

the car violently around a sharp curve. Albert leaned his head back on the seat and closed
his eyes

again.

Matt was almost blinded by the intense hatred he now felt for this man beside
him. Not

only for what he was doing to Monique and Marcel but now he was baiting him
personally, as

though he were intentionally attempting to alienate him, and for what reason? He
shuddered in

revulsion at the thought of this man ever touching Monique, or even desiring her. His
anger
transferred through his foot to the accelerator which was now jammed to the floor. Speed
was

well beyond safe limits. He skirted closer and closer to the edge that dropped off sharply
to the

rocks and lake far below.

The engine screamed as he punished it back and forth through the gears,
repeatedly

changing speed to negotiate the curves and accelerate over the short straight stretches.

'He's asleep,' he thought, 'or at least his eyes are closed. All it would take is a
slight pull to

the right. I lean out just as we reach the edge.' He skidded around a sharp curve and
jammed the

accelerator to the floor. Just up ahead loomed a wide section of road that disappeared to
the left

around the face of the mountain. To the right was the drop to the water's edge and rocks
far

below.

His vision was blurred by the feeling that he was looking through a tunnel, a
tunnel that

was encased in a haze of blistering white heat that would any moment cause his head to
explode.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-112-

The knuckles of both hands were white from the grip he had on the steering wheel. He
rammed

his foot down harder on the accelerator that was already tightly pressed against the floor
as they

hurtled straight for the edge.


As the car catapulted toward the curve he reached down with his left hand and
grasped the

door handle preparing to fling it open and jump. They were split seconds from the point
of no

return.

"You son-of-a-bitch," he yelled, slamming his feet down on the brake and clutch
pedals at

the same time, then quickly jammed the gearshift lever into second and released the
clutch. The

braking action was immediate. Grabbing the steering wheel with both hands he wheeled
it to the

left. As the rear of the car swung toward the edge of the road he jerked it back to the
right.

Albert threw up his arms, his body whipping back and forth as the car skidded to
the very

edge of the precipice where it slid to a stop in a cloud of dust. The engine coughed and
died as

Matt made no effort to disengage the clutch.

Matt sat completely still while staring straight ahead, his hands still tightly
gripping the

wheel as the dust swirled around them. They were at the very edge of the escarpment. So
close

that if Albert were to open his door and step out he would fall to his death below.

"What the hell happened?" Albert shouted.

"Uh...., thought I saw a truck coming..., swerved to miss it..., was mistaken."

"That mistake could have killed us both!" He leaned back and closed his eyes
again.

As if in a daze Matt turned the key and the engine sputtered to life. He slipped it
into gear
and accelerated around the curve.

"Yes..., mistake..., would have been a terrible mistake."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-113-

CHAPTER 6

As usual it had been a good breakfast and was ready and waiting for them when
they came

downstairs. He was on his way to his office in the front of the house as Stephanie
prepared to

phone Mrs. Hanscom about some project they had arranged for that day. Betsy and Lisa
were

already off to school and Jenny was playing upstairs on the terrace.

Suddenly they heard loud voices in a mixture of Swahili and French on the street
just

below. One voice was unmistakably that of the Belgian woman who lived there with her
husband

and one small child. She was a young attractive woman who was always having difficulty
keeping

help, constantly yelling and screaming at them, most of the time for very insignificant
things. She

gave the impression that she expected them to be capable of anticipating her every desire
without

her having to communicate with them.

"Sounds like she's at it again," Matt said motioning his head in the direction of the

shouting. At that moment the woman's voice took on a note of hysteria as she screamed

incoherently, and now it was mixed with the snarling and barking of a dog.

"Get him! Kill! Kill!" she yelled.


Matt walked quickly out the back door with Stephanie close behind. "Seems that
this one

is a little different," he said.

They walked to the corner of the garden and looking below saw the woman
standing in

the street with their large German Shepherd straining at the end of the leash she held in
her hand.

The dog was barking and growling at a black who was standing motionless just out of it's
reach.

"Get out!" she screamed, "get out or I will turn the dog on you! Leave! You are
fired! My

husband will kill you!"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-114-

A number of other natives and some Europeans were standing on the hillside
watching in

silence.

Unexpectedly the black reached down and picked up a rock and threw it at the
dog,

hitting it on the side, a move that caught the woman by surprise and caused her to let go
of the

leash. The dog jumped toward the black, more from the force it had been exerting against
the

leash than anything else. The native backed away quickly with his right hand raised as if
to strike.

The dog suddenly realized it was loose and that it's antagonist was again menacing him.
It skidded

to a stop, showing no desire to attack the human who had already hurt him.

The servant, now sensing the fear in the dog, reached down for another rock, and
with

that the dog raced down the steps and into the house leaving the woman standing there
alone.

"Go! Get away!" she yelled, but now her voice was considerably less aggressive
and there

was a note of fear in it.

The black took two steps forward and grabbed her by the arm. Swinging his other
open

hand in a wide circle he slapped her fully and hard across the face. She pulled away, and
as she did

he held on to her dress sleeve and it was torn from her shoulder. He raised his hand to
strike her

again.

A deep animal-like roar startled the black and all who were watching. They all
looked in

the direction from which it came and saw Matt crashing down through the bushes toward
the pair.

Stephanie was still standing at the edge of the garden above, her hands covering her
mouth and a

look of terror on her face. By that time many more neighbors and servants were out of the

surrounding houses because of the disturbance. They now all looked at Matt who was
charging

like a crazed animal in the direction of the black and whimpering woman.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-115-

He was blinded by a rage that had him seeing and remembering four small
children

huddled and crying in a corner. "Don't, Daddy, please don't hit her again. Daddy, Please!"
while
their father, towering over them, gritted his teeth and swearing viciously flailed clenched
fists at

their mother. He would knock her down, and as she got up he would hit her again and
again.

"Please, please, Daddy, don't hit Mommy!"

Before the surprised native could run Matt was upon him. Matt clasped his hands
tightly

together and brought the full force of his body through his forearms as he slammed them
in a

crushing blow against the native's chest. The force of the impact lifted the man off his
feet and he

fell sprawling flat on his back where he lay gasping for breath.

Matt stood over him and roared, first in English and then in French. "You son-of-
a-bitch,

don't you ever hit a woman! No matter what she does a woman is never to be struck by a
man!"

Reaching down he grabbed the still gasping black and jerked him to his feet,
lifting him off

the ground in the process. He shoved him away shouting, "Now get the hell out of here,
and don't

come back!"

Without looking at the sobbing, disheveled woman Matt walked back up the hill
as the

gasping native raced down the road. Everyone stood in silence as Matt disappeared into
the house

with Stephanie following. Sebastian and the other Miller servants quickly stepped aside
as he

passed.

He walked into his office, sat down in the chair behind the desk and buried his
face in his

hands. Stephanie appeared in the doorway. Waving Jenny away she walked to him and
put her

arm around his shoulders.

"It reminded you of something unpleasant, didn't it?"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-116-

"When our girls are married," he said, "we must never interfere. But," and gritting
his

teeth he looked up at her in a manner that frightened her, "there is one exception. If any
of their

husbands ever strikes any one of them, no matter what the reason, I'll kill him!"

----------

Some weeks had passed since the incident of the native striking the woman. They
were in

the living room reading when Stephanie looked up from her book.

"You know, Mr. Miller, you are responsible for eradicating an important part of
the lives

of African males?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Well it seems that the wise Bwana Mukumbwa Miller is so respected in these
parts that

the word spread fast that beating one's wife is taboo. What Bwana Mukumbwa says goes!
You've

taken the joy out of the traditional Saturday night wife beatings."

"You're joking," he laughed.

"No I'm not! Shall I call Sebastian in and have him tell you what's happened to the
old

neighborhood?"

"No ...., I believe you." Then without smiling he said, "That's one custom the
world is

better off without."

----------

Time passed quickly for Stephanie and Matt, both being kept fully occupied in
establishing

their new lives. Matt was successful in finding dealers and customers throughout his area
that with

few exceptions developed into highly profitable associations. He was honest and
straightforward

in his dealings with them, he realizing that with the proper relationship and their
recognition that

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-117-

he had a genuine desire to make them successful, he and his company would also be
successful.

He quickly discovered that the makeup and nationalities in his territory varied

considerably. Most were Belgian, but he established a number of Greek Cypriot dealers
in the

lower half of Ruanda-Urundi as well as in the northeastern section of the Province of


Kivu. Arabs

were located to a great extent in the northern half of Ruanda-Urundi. Indians, a good
many of

them of the Ismaili religious sect and followers of the Agha Khan, were to be found in the

Usumbura area and northern Ruanda-Urundi. It made for different and interesting
methods of
business dealings, in addition to his being exposed to the different cultures, religions and
the

especially enjoyable opportunities to experience so many different kinds of foods.

The Millers came to know the missionaries from the outlying stations through
Peter and

Florence Hanscom and they began to make the Miller's house another one of their stops
in

Bukavu when they came to town. Most had children and the girls enjoyed these visits
since it

provided an opportunity for them to play with children who spoke English.

From time to time during Matt's extensive traveling in the bush he would stop at
one of

the mission stations for a visit and a short rest. The visits were always encouraged by the

missionaries and provided him with some respite from the long drives through rough
bush country

that could take as long as twelve to fourteen hours at a stretch.

On the longer trips he came to know where it was possible to obtain gasoline and
where it

was not. He carried two spare tires and a large jerry can full of gasoline. One such trip he
had to

make periodically to Kindu, a town on the western edge of Kivu Province in central
Congo, there

was nothing but mountains to the west through which the unimproved rock-surfaced road

dropped down the escarpment and into the deep, thick jungle and it's sometimes dust,
sometimes

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-118-

mud roads. The trip took approximately fourteen hours when stopping only long enough
to pour

gasoline from the jerry can into the gas tank. The seemingly endless road had nothing
other than

thick jungle along it except for a few isolated native villages of thatch-roofed mud huts.

Frequently the road would be washed away by tropical rains during the rainy season and
quite

often he would need to reconstruct bridges over streams swollen by the rains. To
backtrack in

many cases would mean adding hundreds of miles to the trip and there was no guarantee
that he

would not find the same condition along an alternate route, if one existed.

It always seemed that he would have a flat tire under the most difficult of
circumstances

and many times would change them deep in the bush hundreds of miles from any town or

populated area. Sometimes it would be in total darkness, with the only light being a
flashlight

placed on the ground and pointed at the wheel on which he was working. It seemed that
when

these things would happen he was certain that he was stopped in an area where no
inhabitants of

any kind could possibly be living for many miles. But suddenly and within seconds after
stopping

natives in different stages of dress and undress would mysteriously appear out of the
thick bush

along the road. Some would watch suspiciously from a distance while he built the bridge,
changed

the wheel, or made the necessary repairs. Others, especially the younger ones, would
gather

closer, stand in silence and watch.


Other than an hello in Swahili, which many of them could not understand since
they could

only speak their own tribal tongue, Matt never volunteered conversation, he feeling the
less said

the more quickly he could complete his task and move on.

He always carried a supply of sandwiches, water and coffee in two very large
thermos

bottles, not only for eating regular meals while continuing to drive, but in case of
emergency.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-119-

His easiest drive by far was over the asphalt-paved road from Bukavu south to
Usumbura.

Once down the escarpment, the flat savanna with it's high grass and scrub trees on both
sides of

the road could easily lull one into a very sleepy state over the straight, slightly undulating
road. At

the lower end of the valley the road turned ninety degrees to the east along the northern
shore of

Lake Tanganyika to Usumbura on the northeastern tip of the lake. It was on this stretch of
road

running eastward that you passed through the frontier from Congo to Ruanda-Urundi,
meaning

that all of the road up to that point, at least 95 percent of it, was in the Belgian Congo. No

customs or passport control existed, since both countries were under the control of
Belgium.

Late one afternoon he was en route back to Bukavu after having worked for three
days in

Usumbura. This particular section of road was bordered on one side by a large, deep
drainage
ditch that in some places dropped-sharply down to a depth of as much as fifteen feet. The
view

beyond the road on either side was completely blocked by very thick, tall savanna grass.

He was relaxed and thinking of the day's work. As was his usual custom on this
best of all

the roads he traveled he was pushing the VW to it's limit of 110 kilometers per hour.
Suddenly,

off to his right a huge Brahma bull came charging out of the savanna grass chased
closely by a

native who seemed to be trying unsuccessfully to steer it in another direction.

Matt slammed his foot down on the brake pedal, which at that speed and in fourth
gear

had little affect. He swerved to the left, trying not to overreact due to the Volkswagen's
critical

directional stability. He flashed by the bull just missing it by inches, moving at an angle
that would

propel him into the ditch on the other side of the road if he was unable to stop it. He
jerked the

steering wheel to the right and skidded sideways down the road with the left rear of the
car

swinging around. Jamming the clutch pedal down he shoved the gearshift lever quickly
into

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-120-

second while spinning the wheel to the left again, the rear end of the car fishtailing as he
reversed

the direction of the front wheels.

There was a sound of tearing rubber mixed with the screech of steel scraping
across the
road surface as the rim flanges skidded on the road under the collapsed rear tires. As the
car

swerved violently back again to the left he could hear the rubber being ripped to shreds as
the tire

casings were torn away from the rims. He eased the wheel more slowly in the opposite
direction

as the little car swung violently around to the right making it necessary for him to steer
backwards

while the car hurtled toward the ditch and certain violent death. He jammed both feet on
the

brake.

The car skidded to a stop just inches away from the deep ditch. Then there was
complete

silence.

He rested his head on the steering wheel for a few moments, then stepped out of
the car.

The bull and the native were no where in sight.

He walked around the car to survey the damage and found that both rear tires had
been

ripped completely off rims that were so badly damaged that they would also need to be

replaced.

It was just turning dark when he began to unload his spare tires. This close to the
equator

daylight came at the same time every day all year round at just before 6:OOAM and
darkness at

just after 6:OOPM with very little prelude of dawn or dusk.

He began jacking up the car and within seconds was surrounded by an ever-
increasing
number of natives who seemed to sift out of the high Savanna grass. They inched closer,
silently

watching him. He noticed that some were carrying the broad-bladed, long machete
knives,

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-121-

pangas, that were common over a good part of Africa.

He chose to remain silent and went about his work. It was soon so dark that he
could not

see and he walked to the right window and reached into the glove compartment and
pulled out a

flashlight. Leaning further into the car he slowly snapped open the panel on the
dashboard to the

left of the steering column, palming the small 7mm automatic that he took from the flat
box he

had fitted inside. This was a precaution he had taken at the insistence of friends quite
some time

ago in case of an emergency.

He calmly shoved it into his left pants pocket and returning to the rear of the car
he placed

the flashlight on the ground and pointed it at the wheel on which he was working. He
resumed

removing the lugs from the hub.

He could feel their eyes boring into his back, or so he imagined, and wondered
when he

would feel the blow of a panga. He strained to remain calm and to appear as nonchalant
and

unafraid as possible. He had the distinct feeling that if he would let himself go he would
shake
himself to pieces.

He jumped with a start as he felt someone touch his left shoulder. Spinning
around he

jammed his hand into his left pocket and grasped the automatic. As he leaped to his feet
he almost

bumped into a native who was holding the tire iron out to him in anticipation of it's need.

"Merci," Matt said, smiling nervously.

The blow from the panga never came. He quietly and quickly finished mounting
the

wheels. Throwing the tire tools, damaged tires and wheels in the back seat he climbed
quickly

into the car and much too loudly yelled, "Kwaheri!" to the darkness, since he could no
longer

make out anything more than ghost-like shapes in the dark.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-122-

As he turned the ignition key he could see them moving closer to the car. The
engine

ground over and over but would not fire.

"Damn!" he swore out loud. "Flooded."

In his anxiety to start the car he had pumped the accelerator too much. He jammed
the

pedal all the way to the floor while the engine continued to turn over. Now he could hear
the

natives talking excitedly to each other. It was the first noise they had made since it had all
started.

He felt close to panic as he began to notice the engine was turning over more
slowly.
'What the hell will I do if this bloody battery goes dead,' he thought.

"Come on you son-of-a-bitch," he yelled at the top of his voice. As though it were

following his command the engine sputtered and then roared to life while he held the
accelerator

all the way down. As it did he snapped the lights on and saw that the car was completely

surrounded, but they were backing away.

He threw the car into gear and shot ahead. As he rapidly pulled away his first
thought was

to promise himself to never again take for granted there was nothing in that damned
savanna

grass.

------------------

Aketi was in one of the more remote and isolated areas in his territory, a small
town far to

the northwest in the interior of Orientale Province and located on a tributary of the Congo
river.

Although nothing more than a small trading post, Matt's interest was in a local branch of
one of

the larger multinational trading companies. It was managed by an Englishman who had
lived there

for many years buying palm nuts, rubber, coffee and basic foodstuffs for his British-based

company while selling staples to the natives.

The stream on which Aketi was situated was north of the Congo River, with
access to the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-123-

town restricted to river transportation during the rainy season. The only other means of
getting
there was by a small twin-engined plane that flew in and out of the short grass strip at the
edge of

town. It had to be continuously cleared to keep it from being overgrown by the jungle.
The

flight from Stanleyville was only made on Mondays and Fridays, weather permitting, and

maximum capacity of the plane was five passengers and the pilot. Rarely was the plane
full.

Matt had awakened with a slight headache that Monday morning in Stanleyville.
After

packing and checking out of the Sabena Guest House he crossed the road to the airport
and

shortly afterward boarded the small plane for the non stop flight to Aketi.

He had taken aspirin prior to takeoff, but as they headed northwest over the thick
jungle

his headache became progressively worse. By the time they touched down on the grass
strip and

had taxied up to the little open-faced wooden shelter that was the only accommodation,
his vision

was blurred by the severity of the throbbing headache.

His baggage was loaded into the waiting minibus for the short ride into town and
to the

only hotel. He was dropped off in front of the restaurant, the eight rooms of the hotel
being

directly in back.

Matt walked into a large open area full of tables that had chairs stacked on top of
them. It

was apparent that the restaurant was not yet open. A massive bar made of heavy
mahogany ran

the width of the building at the back of the room and a sign indicating 'Reception' hung
over one

part of it. The only person in the room was a man behind the bar.

By this time his headache had become so bad that he had difficulty in focusing
and he felt

nauseous. He thought if he could just control his insides until he got to the room he would
be all

right.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-124-

"Bon jour, Monsieur," he said shakily. "You have a reservation for Miller?
Matthew

Miller?"

"I am sorry, Monsieur, 'we have no reservation," he replied immediately without


checking

any register or document.

"But...., there must be some mistake. I sent the wire myself three weeks ago.
Please check

it for me." He did not know how much longer he could stand there without vomiting all
over the

bar and the man.

"We are a small hotel and I know all the bookings. You have no reservation and I
have

seen no wire."

He knew there were absolutely no other accommodations available, and now he


was

becoming desperate. "Do you have any space at all that is available?"

"We are sold out for the next two weeks and have been for the past two weeks. I
am
afraid there is nothing."

Matt sank down on the bar stool and half to himself and half to the man said,
"Now what

the hell do I do? I know the plane is gone." He looked pleadingly at the man behind the
bar. "Is

there anything at all I can use as a place to rest? How about some chairs put together in
this

restaurant? Anything."

"The restaurant and bar stay open all night, or at least until the last person leaves,
and

there are always people drinking and eating until the early morning hours." There was
more of a

sympathetic tone in the man's voice now. "I am sorry, Monsieur, but we cannot permit it."

Matt knew that he was not lying. The Colons worked hard, but they also played
hard. Late

dinners and all night drinking, always accompanied by loud music and card-playing was
a way of

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-125-

life. It was a custom that a bar or restaurant must stay open as long as one patron
remained.

"I ...., I have to think this through," he said through the blinding headache.
Suddenly he

felt chilled and began to shake. "Johnnie Walker Black Label please. A double."

The bartender poured a generous portion from the black labeled bottle and peered

inquisitively at Matt. "Are you all right, Monsieur?"

"Just a lousy headache that's making me feel terrible all over. I'll be OK. I'll just
rest here
for a while."

The man returned to his work behind the bar, occasionally glancing at Matt who
hunched

more and more over the drink he was sipping. He continued to shake in spite of the
oppressive

heat. Shortly he ordered another drink. Although there was no relief from the headache
the scotch

seemed to have warmed his body. It was early evening now and he vaguely perceived that
some

people had come into the restaurant and bar.

He began to perspire, and now he was burning up with fever. His head, which felt
as

though it would split, was bent down over his drink. He knew he would never be able to

straighten up again. His eyes were shut tightly since any light that reached them seemed
to

increase the intensity of the headache and the pressure inside his head. He felt faint, as if
he were

on the verge of passing out.

Faintly, almost imperceptibly, he heard muffled voices above him and then felt a
hand on

his shoulder. Somewhere down a long tunnel he heard a voice echoing, beckoning him to
come.

The voice was speaking English, and then subconsciously he knew he was outside and
walking

beside a man who was helping him along. He stopped to vomit at least twice while the
man

patiently waited. Then through the haze of nausea and half-consciousness he knew he
was being
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-126-

helped to a sitting position on the edge of a cot and someone helped him undress. The
man's

voice kept asking over and over again, "What prophylactic have you been taking....., what

prophylactic have you been taking?"

Matt leaned over in an attempt to lay on the bed and get some precious rest, to
close his

eyes and cover them against the piercing light that was shattering his skull into little
pieces. But he

was pulled up abruptly and shaken hard.

"Not yet!" the voice yelled. "I must know the name of the bloody pills you've been
taking!

Tell me and then you can rest."

"Uhhh... can't remember..... in my kit... bottle in my kit."

"OK, now you can rest," and he lowered Matt on to the cot where he was
immediately

engulfed in blackness. In spite of being unconscious, however, the pain that racked his
body was

so severe that he continued to suffer from it's affects. For the next two days and nights he

experienced chills that caused him to shake violently one moment and then suddenly be
burning

up with fever. He would perspire so profusely that it would leave the cot thoroughly
soaked. The

pounding headache never left him. The least bit of light that entered the room made him
feel as if

a searing flame was being drawn across his eyes.

He vaguely knew that the man who had helped him was periodically appearing to
sit him
upright and was forcing him to take something with liquid. The man spoke very little but
Matt

could detect that he had an English accent.

Late in the afternoon following his second night in the small room the headache
began to

subside. It was still there, but now it was more of a steady, dull ache and not the sharp
throbbing

pain. Although his temperature was still high, the fever had also diminished. He was very
weak

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-127-

and at one point attempted to roll over and sit up but quickly gave up, falling back on the
cot in a

semiconscious state.

Hearing footsteps he looked up to see the man who had been helping him. He
appeared to

be in his forties, dressed in white shorts and shirt with white socks and brown sandals.

"Well," the man said, "you bloody well almost bought it. You look much better
though.

Here, let's stuff some more of these down you," and bending down he took Matt's arm
and pulled

him to a sitting position on the edge of the cot. Matt shakily took the pills that were
handed to

him.

"Thanks very much," he said weakly. "I'm afraid I don't know your name."

"I'm Geoffrey Foster. Please call me Jeff. I know who you are, Mr. Miller. I
apologize for

looking at your documents, but I put all your personal things away for safekeeping."
"Please call me Matt, and I thank you for everything. You're the man I came to
see." He

covered his face with his hands to guard against the light that still bothered his eyes.

"Yes, I know, I received your letter. I could have possibly checked the hotel to
confirm

your room, but it wouldn't have done any good. Your room was given to an aspiring black

politician who is traveling through the area, along with his flaming entourage."

Matt pulled his hands away from his face and looked up. "You mean that the
Belgian lied

to me? He really did have a room for me but gave it away?"

"Don't be upset with the poor bugger. He's looking to the future. Reservation or
not,

when one or more of them show up it's extremely unwise to refuse them quarters,
otherwise you

are placed on the list of discriminators, justified or not, and one day your reckoning will
come.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-128-

After all, that hotel is all the man has in this world and he wants to protect it. What's a
little

inconvenience to someone else with that kind of priority confronting him."

"You're right of course, but I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't
come

along."

"I'm certain they would have worked out something for you .... possibly."

"In so far as I know," Matt said, "I've taken my malaria pills religiously every day
since
arriving in Africa. How could I have come down with it?"

"Sometimes a person contracts it and the prophylactic he is taking is only


suppressing the

symptoms. You can go for weeks, months and even years without it surfacing, while
something

holds it down, like the pills you've been taking. But either because you miss taking the
pills or it

develops into such a severe case, it eventually overcomes the prophylactic. I'd say the
latter is

your problem since you say you take your pills regularly. You sure have a whopping great
case.

"You know," he continued, "it would be well for you to carry the name of your
medicine

on a chain around your neck, in your wallet or on your person somewhere. I'm certain
you know

that increased doses of what you've been taking is what you must be given when you
have an

attack. There are so many different kinds on the market and if you take the wrong thing it
could

cause a reaction with serious consequences."

"Thanks for the advice. I'll do that immediately."

"You lay down and get some more rest while I prepare some broth. You haven't
eaten in

two days. Couldn't have if you had wanted to. We have some business to discuss before
you catch

that plane back to Stan day after tomorrow and I've got to strengthen you up in the
meantime."

Matt lay back on the bed. "I don't know how to thank you. I hope some day to
repay your
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-129-

kindness, but under much different circumstances."

"Not to worry, and you're very welcome. I look forward to carrying on some
conversation

in English for a change, albeit with someone who has a funny Yank accent," he laughed.
"Now

you rest."

That evening Matt began to experience some of the most interesting hours he had
ever had

in his life. Foster had been there almost twenty years, the first two of which had been
with a new

bride. In those days they had home leave every five years, but his young wife had not
made it past

the first two. She had returned to England and they were divorced shortly after. Matt
detected

that even after eighteen years Jeff still missed her terribly.

He had never remarried. Over the years each time he was nearing the end of a tour
he

would swear it would be his last and that he would not return. But he always did. The
tours were

now down to two years, at the end of which home leave would last for three months. He
always

found he wanted to return before the three months were up, and quite often he would.

But return to what? A small band of whites, always the same ones, who provided
the only

company in the never-ending sweltering heat and humidity? The constant battle to hold
back the

jungle and keep it from overgrowing this semblance of civilization that they were fighting
so hard

to maintain, in order not to go 'native', as they would say. The constant dangers of
Malaria, Black

Water Fever, Schistosomiasis, also known as Bilharzia and which had no known cure? It
was a

debilitating disease caused by parasites living in the bloodstream and would affect the
bladder,

liver, lungs and central nervous system. Carried by a small snail that was found in the still
waters

along the shores of streams and lakes, the treatment available to suppress it was more
terrible in

it's affect on the body than the disease itself, apart from almost inevitable death.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-130-

There was no form of entertainment or diversion other than playing cards and
drinking

with the same little group night after night, except during those times when one was away
in the

bush on business where deprivation was absolute. Even old African hands were
constantly afraid

of becoming lost in bush so thick that you could be just a few feet from a road or clearing
and not

know it, having become completely disoriented and as a result in danger of being lost
forever.

It could be determined, it was said, how long a man had lived in Congo by the
way he

drank. If an insect flew into his drink and he would send it back and order another he
most

probably had not been in Congo for more than six months. If he picked the insect out of
the glass
and then drank it's contents it was an indication that he had been there for at least one
year. If he

drank without taking out the bug, in all probability he had been on the continent for at
least two

years. But if he deliberately caught the insects to put them into his drink before he
consumed it, he

was considered an old hand.

Matt came to like this man very much. He did not know it at the time, but they
would

never see or communicate with each other again. Had he known this he would have been
very

sad.

Jeff discovered that Matt played chess, after a fashion, and they played and talked
well into

the morning hours that night and the following, with Matt being soundly whipped each
time. He

did not mind, and Jeff seemed to enjoy it immensely, he indicating that no one else in
town played

chess. Matt found that he was a well educated, extremely intelligent man who had a keen
insight

into a wide variety of subjects, both historical and contemporary.

As the plane lifted off the grass strip Matt waved at Jeff standing below. 'Fantastic
person,'

he thought. 'So far from everything and here for so many years. He admittedly has
nothing of

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-131-

material value. All he has is this life. How lonely he must be. A few distant relative's in
England
who he says are like strangers and no friends there anymore. Why does he do it?' He was
so

tempted to ask him a number of times but was afraid he would risk offending him
because of

some possible personal secret better left undiscussed.

'Expatriates. Well, I guess someone has to do it,' he thought. The plane banked
sharply

and he lost sight of Geoffrey Foster.

If Matt would have analyzed himself objectively at that moment and the direction
his life

was taking he would have seen that a die was being cast for him that was much the same
as that

which had been forged for the Englishman many years before.

-------------

In spite of it's vastness and the fact that a good part of it was remote and isolated,
Matt

quickly came to know his territory. He traveled constantly, with Stephanie and the girls
left on

their own most of the time. But Stephanie's time was fully occupied with the girls,
teaching herself

French and Swahili and becoming more and more involved with Mrs. Hanscom and the

missionary work, all in addition to managing a large home full of house boys and
fulfilling social

obligations, many of which were essential to the furtherance of Matt's business.

They missed each other, but both were determined to be successful in their
respective

areas of responsibility. They reminded each other frequently of their most important

responsibility, however, and that was the need to love each other and care for their
marriage. It's

continued success was the ultimate objective and all else was a means to that end.

They continued to believe that their love was something special and that there had
never

been nor would there ever be anything to equal it. But this deep love and their marriage
were to

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-132-

be tested to the utmost in the months to come.

-----------------

Jason Sterling had met him in Albertville, a principal town in northern Katanga
Province,

to accompany him on an orientation trip through northern Katanga. This was a section of
the

province that had previously been decided would be turned over to Matt. It's geographical

location and travel routes, such as they were, were more compatible with his territory.
The

dividing line between his and Jason's territory was an imaginary line running roughly
straight west

of Baudouinville, a town two thirds of the way down the western shore of Lake
Tanganyika, and

Kongolo in the west at the Lualaba River, a main tributary that flowed north into the
Congo

River.

It was close to the opposite shore of this lake, not far from where they stood, that
three

quarters of a century earlier a reporter turned explorer had completed a long, arduous
search that
had covered a good part of Africa. A search that ended with his uttering the words,
"Doctor

Livingstone, I presume."

Henry Morton Stanley had found the long lost Doctor David Livingstone, the
Scottish

explorer and missionary. Stanley conducted explorations on behalf of the Belgians, the
only

European colonial power interested in the area, from 1879 to 1884. As a result, Congo's

boundaries were established following the 1884 Berlin Conference and King Leopold II
of the

Belgians set up the 'Congo Free State' in 1885, assuming personal control over it, though
he

would never visit it. In 1908 the state became a full Belgian colony. While the Belgian

administration held tribal enmities in check, colonial monopolies reaped the wealth of
ivory, gold,

copper and other minerals. But there were ominous signs as early as the 1930s when first

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-133-

indications of a black nationalist movement began to surface.

The day before they were to leave Albertville and head west to Nyunzu and
Kabalo, Jason

and Matt sat talking to their dealer in his shop. A merchant friend of the dealer who was
located

in one of the small lake shore villages to the north stopped in to buy some goods and
visit. After

introductions he sat down to drink a cool liter of Primus beer that they were all enjoying.

"Had a bit of excitement yesterday afternoon in our village. A crocodile carried


off
another one of the blacks. Second time this month. This time an eight year old child. I
don't know

what more we can do to fend those bastards off."

"What happened?" Matt asked.

"Pretty much the usual. Group of natives bathing and all of a sudden this kid starts to

scream. The mother raced into the water and this croc has his teeth sunk into the child's
side,

whipping him around and backing off into deeper water. The mother grabbed the kid
screaming

bloody murder and tried to wrench him loose. It was a losing battle. Almost let herself be
pulled

under too. Then she had to watch as the croc disappeared under the water with her baby
in his

jaws.

"Christ, that's awful," Jason said.

"You say you're from Bukavu, Monsieur Miller?"

"Yes."

"You're lucky you live on Lake Kivu. Some sort of chemicals or something in that
lake from

the surrounding mountains and volcanoes kills them off. Crocs can't survive there.
Neither can

Hippos. Some idiot put some crocs in that lake a few years back, can you imagine, just to
see

what would happen. Fortunately they all died."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-134-

The next day Matt and Jason were traveling along a route that took them over a
secondary
road between Albertville and Nyunzu. They had decided to take it because on the map it
appeared

to cut considerable distance off the trip in comparison to using the main road which was
not much better.

Many times the main roads themselves were impassable, but Matt soon discovered that in
Africa one

should always stick to them.

They were bouncing along in a completely isolated area deep in the bush and far
from any

settlements at a very slow rate of speed over two dirt tracks that formed the road over
which they

were driving. The shoulder-high grass in the middle of the road was as thick as that which
was

growing along the sides. Suddenly, both Matt and Jason detected movement up ahead.

As they drew closer they saw a group of a dozen or more male blacks running
along the

road in the same direction that they were traveling. They were completely naked except
for scanty

loin cloths and brightly colored feathers on their heads, necks, waists and ankles and an

abundance of beads all over their bodies. Bright yellow, red and orange clay had been
smeared in

a series of lines and blotches on their faces and chests. They were carrying spears and
machetes

with some of them holding crude bows and arrows.

As they drove closer the natives stopped in a clearing beside the road and stepped
aside

watching curiously. Matt had not noticed but Jason had wound up his window.

"Look at them, Jason! They look as if they just stepped out of a jungle movie. I
wonder if I
could get a picture of them?"

"I wouldn't advise it, Matt. Let's keep moving."

Matt had driven just beyond them when he said, "I'll take it from a distance," and
stopping

the car he grabbed his camera and got out.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-135-

"Make it quick." Jason said, stepping out on his side to watch.

The natives displayed no fear and moved closer as Matt snapped the shutter a
number of

times. They were now within a few feet of the car but were making no menacing moves.
The

stolid looks on their faces were unchanging and betrayed no signs of emotion.

"They seem friendly enough," Matt said. "Here, Jason, please take the camera. I'd
like you to

take a picture of me with them." He grabbed a pack of Belga cigarettes from the car and
walked

toward them.

"Matt, I wouldn't get too close."

Ignoring Jason's plea he walked into the group and started handing out cigarettes.
They

looked at them in a manner which indicated that they did not know what they were.

"Come on, Matt, let's go. I've taken the photos."

"How about you? Come on, I'll take yours."

"No .... oh well, quickly. Let's get it over with."

Matt took the camera from Jason who walked far to the left of the group of blacks.
"You'll need to get closer, I can't fit you into the picture," Matt said.

"Shit! Hurry it up so we can get the hell out of here. I don't like this."

Jason walked around and stood far in back of the blacks, some of whom turned and
eyed

him suspiciously. Matt quickly snapped the pictures.

"OK, I have them."

Jason quickly walked far around the group and back to the car. They both hopped in
and

slammed the doors shut.

"Now let's get out of here." Jason shouted.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-136-

As they bounced away Matt glanced in the rear view mirror and saw that the group
was still

standing in the same spot watching them pull away.

"Matt, I was born and raised in South Africa. I know that country and it's tribes
fairly well

and I'm certain there is not much difference between them and the tribes still in the bush
here. I

would never take the chance that you just did. I advise you to never expose yourself to
danger

like that again. That may have been a war party and they would have put themselves in
the mood

for only one thing. Killing!"

"I'm sure you're right. It was foolish, but an opportunity I just couldn't resist."

"An opportunity that could have cost you your life."


That evening in Nyunzu over dinner after having told the innkeeper and his wife
what they

had done that day with the natives, they were told that they had encountered a war party
of the

Kabogo tribe, which of all of the tribes in that part of Congo was feared the most. They
were

rarely seen, preferring to remain in isolation deep in the bush. They were informed that
they were

very fortunate not to have experienced any troubles with them.

Matt glanced at Jason, a look of embarrassment on his face. Jason raised his
eyebrows and

said nothing, recognizing that his associate had been more than impressed.

-------------------

As the months passed the volume of work that Matt generated as a result of his
success in

developing the business throughout his territory became too much for him to handle
alone. The

geographical area he had to cover which now included northern Katanga dictated the
need to

reduce it's size. This move was planned to take place eventually, but it had come about
much

sooner than forecasted.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-137-

It was September, almost a year since his arrival, when Matt received a wire from
Albert

that a man had been hired that would now allow them to make the change in territorial
alignment.

He was a former branch manager of their previous distributor and had been based in
Matadi close

to the Atlantic Ocean far to the west. He was one of their best men and was quite familiar
with

Consolidated's product lines. Matt was to work with him in turning over Orientale
Province, it

representing roughly half of the area he had covered up to that time. It meant that he
could now

concentrate more on the business in Kivu Province and Ruanda-Urundi as well as


northern

Katanga. It also meant he might even be able to spend a few more nights at home.

Kurt Wagemans met him at the Stanleyville airport and it became immediately
apparent

that they would get along nicely. Kurt was a jovial, hard working Flem. His penetrating
questions

and insight into business matters told Matt that he would be a valuable asset to the
company. He

was married and had two children who would be following him to Stanleyville in two
weeks time.

After spending one week working in the vicinity of Stanleyville they started out
early one

morning on the bush road that led to Paulis. Located a number of kilometers to the
northeast

close to Sudan, it was an important trading center where Matt had already established a
dealer.

They had been driving about two hours with Kurt at the wheel of his brand new

Volkswagen when a short distance ahead a large stake-body truck appeared around a
sharp curve.

It was traveling at a moderate rate of speed but the native driver was startled by the
sudden

appearance of their car.


Both vehicles were on their proper side of the road, but the black panicked,
jamming his

foot down on the brake pedal causing the front wheels to lock. The rear of the truck
swung

violently around to it's left, skidding across the red gravel surface toward the small VW.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-138-

Kurt pulled sharply to the right but it was too late to avoid the low slung steel
frame of the

stake body. It came crashing across the left side of the car's hood and both Kurt and Matt
ducked

as the steel beams of the stake body sheared off the top of the VW with a grinding
screech. Matt

instinctively threw up his arm to protect himself and it was knocked sharply backwards as
the roof

ripped away. The European type safety glass windshield disintegrated and tiny pieces of
glass flew

in every direction showering and covering them both. Then there was silence.

Matt quickly took stock of himself and decided he had sustained no serious
injuries. He

looked at Kurt who was crouched under the crushed remains of the metal roof, the jagged
edges

of which were inches from his head. The back end of the truck was beyond their car to
the rear.

Kurt began to struggle with the jammed door.

"Are you all right?" Matt asked.

"I think so. How about you?"

"I'm OK. Come on, let's get out my side, but go slowly or we could be injured just
trying

to get out."

The door was partially sprung and he managed to push it the rest of the way open.
They

both slowly crawled out and then checked each other for injuries while carefully brushing
off

small bits of glass. The native came running around his truck crying and wringing his
hands. As he

was calming him down Kurt noticed a stream of blood running down the back of Mitch's
forearm

from a small hole in his elbow.

"Matt, you had better stop the bleeding from that little cut."

Matt took out his handkerchief and pressed it against what appeared to be a very
tiny

laceration just above the elbow.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-139-

"Funny, I didn't feel anything."

They had the driver pull his truck to the side of the road and checking his
documents they

obtained all of the information that would be necessary to fill out the police report and
insurance

claim. They found that the black was heading for Stanleyville and since their car could
not be

driven they loaded their things into the truck and rode back with him. After their arrival
they went

to the local hospital to have Matt's arm attended.

"Can't understand why such a small cut would give me so much trouble," he said
to the

Belgian doctor.

The doctor disinfected the cut, bandaged it and Matt and Kurt returned to the
Wagenia

Hotel in the center of Stanleyville to spend the night. They planned to rent a car the
following day

to resume their journey to Paulis.

It was in the dead of night when the throbbing pain in his left arm and shoulder
wakened

him. He attempted to move his now stiffened arm and there was such a sharp searing pain
that he

almost cried out. He was burning up with fever.

He rolled over to a sitting position at the edge of his bed, every movement
creating

unbelievable pain in his arm and side. His fingers felt numb. He managed to get into the
hall and

using the wall as support he moved along it to Kurt's room which was next to his.
Leaning up

against the door he began pounding on it.

"Who is it?"

"Matt! It's me - Matt! Open up."

Kurt opened the door and grabbed him as he toppled forward.

"My God, what is wrong?"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-140-

"Don't know. My.... my arm hurts terribly. Feel sick," and then he blacked out.

Just as they pulled up to the hospital Matt regained partial consciousness and with
Kurt's

help was able to walk into the reception room. His arm was quickly examined while Kurt
told the

doctor about the accident.

"Let's get him to X-ray and then to bed."

A little more than an hour later the doctor entered the room where Matt had been
resting

quietly from the medication given him with Kurt at his side.

"There is a foreign object embedded in his arm just above the elbow. It looks to be
glass

except that it appears to be metallic on one side. Something from it has caused the
infection,

possibly blood poison. It must come out immediately."

A short while later Matt was on the operating table having been given a local
anesthetic.

The doctor incised the area and removed a jagged object about the size of a small coin.
Matt had

been watching in a half-conscious state. The doctor held it up to the light examining it
and then

lowered it to permit Matt a closer look.

"It seems you have been carrying a part of the rear view mirror around in your
arm. You

said you threw up your arm when the crash occurred, did you not?"

"Yes. It must have shattered and that piece was driven into my arm. But why did it
affect

me this way?"

"I can only guess that the silver-like substance on the back of the mirror caused it.
You are
very fortunate you were so close to medical help. If you had continued on your trip and
stopped

somewhere where no help was available the infection and poisoning would almost
certainly have

killed you by now."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-141-

CHAPTER 7

As he had promised, the first Saturday in November they loaded up the roof rack
of the

little VW with suitcases containing enough clothes to last them for the nine-day trip to the
north

that would include a visit with Florence and Peter Hanscom at the mission station. The
drive to

the station would take almost two full days with a stop overnight in Goma on the northern
tip of

Lake Kivu. They planned to stay with the Hanscoms from Sunday night until the
following

Thursday morning, at which time they would drive east into Uganda to the center of the
wild

game refuge, Queen Elizabeth National Park. Then Thursday and Friday nights would be
spent in

the park at Mweya Lodge overlooking Lake Edward and the Kazinga Channel that led
into the

much smaller Lake George.

Matt had stayed in the park on a number of his trips to the north and it abounded
in wild

elephant, hippos, water buffalo, zebra, many species of antelope, almost every type of
game
known to be in Uganda. Within the boundaries of the spacious park the game was
protected, but

in spite of this wholesale poaching was being carried on by blacks and whites alike that
was

rapidly depleting their numbers. Although protected, the game was actually living in a
wild state.

Sebastian had insisted that he go along 'to help Mandami and to care for the girls'.
He sat

in the small back seat with them, with Stephanie relieving their congested condition by

occasionally holding one of the girls on her lap in front. Sebastian's smallness also
helped. He had

also insisted that he would sleep in the back seat during the trip, except while they were
at the

mission station since the Hanscoms had made arrangements for him.

A happy family and head house boy headed north Saturday morning just before
dawn.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-142-

They were all looking forward to the time they had set aside that afternoon for the beach
at

Goma. The drive to Goma would take approximately four hours, leaving the afternoon for
them

to relax. They would be staying that night at the Hotel des Grands Lacs in Goma, one of
the

better, more comfortably furnished hotels in all of central Africa.

The news that had been coming out of the main mission station, now supervised
by Peter

and Florence, was no better than that which they had been hearing from all over Congo.
Matt
recalled the prediction of the American Eric Brown in Leopoldville a year earlier. The
black

politicians that were now surfacing in greater numbers, many of whom were receiving
financial

support and training from outside Congo, were taking advantage of the rapidly spreading

rejection of authority and discipline that was represented by schools, missionaries and
their

churches and the government and it's restrictive laws. The white man's ways directed
every aspect

of their lives.

They drove up and down the winding, sharp curves that skirted the lake through
the small

native villages of Mukada, Bunika, Kalehe and a number of others that lined the road
going north.

North of Kinyezire they came to the northwest shore of Lake Kivu, a shoreline that had
been

altered in 1939 by the massive eruptions of lava from the volcanoes in the area. The
flowing lava

formed steaming peninsulas in the water and had sealed off a part of the lake, which in
the process

had created a smaller separate body of water. The ragged beds of black lava that had
cooled and

solidified so many years before now made up a prominent part of the landscape along the
lake.

Sections of the roads in the area were spread with the black gravel-like lava, including the
road on

which they were driving.

They arrived in Goma after lunch. After checking into the hotel they changed
clothes and

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-143-

walked the short distance to the beach. The girls played in the sand and splashed in the
cool water

of the lake while Stephanie and Matt relaxed on the beach. The children were fascinated
by two

beautiful golden crested cranes that wandered back and forth along the beach looking for
scraps

of food. Looking to the north they could see the 11,385 foot high cone-shaped
Nyiragongo, one

of a series of still active volcanoes around Goma. A wisp of white smoke was constantly
visible

coming from the jagged rim of the crater.

They had an early dinner, and with Sebastian bedded down in the car they went to
bed in

preparation for their long drive north the following morning. The girls were excited about
the

prospect of seeing the wild animals that Matt had been telling them about and Stephanie
was

looking forward to seeing Florence, she not having seen her since they had left Bukavu
five

months earlier.

The following day the drive was considerably easier. The land was much flatter
now and

they were out of the rocky mountainous region. The roads were easier to negotiate and
although

not made up of sharp rocks they were still unsurfaced, dirt roads. As they drove on they
came into

higher and higher elevation which took them into the region just west of the Mountains of
the

Moon. Occasionally they would come across little scantily clad men walking along the
roadside.

At one point Matt stopped and traded cigarettes and ground nuts for a small crude bow
strung

with rawhide and a quiver of arrows that had tiny leaves at their end for the directional
stability

that feathers would normally provide. They were well into pygmy country, but with these
natives

who lived close to some villages and towns there was normally no danger in their
presence. This

shy little man had a pot belly that barely permitted his only piece of clothing, an animal-
hide loin

cloth, to stay in place.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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The atmosphere became increasingly thinner and was accompanied by a decided


drop in

temperature the higher they climbed. Here they passed through the villages of Ngoloolo,
Kihondo,

Hilundule, Kanyabayongo and the larger town of Lubero, most of which had customers
and

dealers that Matt had established since his arrival.

They arrived at the mission station late that afternoon and it was a happy reunion,

especially for Stephanie and Florence. Sebastian was introduced to the Hanscom's house
boys and

as was the custom he immediately began to help them with their work.

Peter and Florence had a small brick and stone home that had been built many
years before

by the older Hanscoms. There was a huge fireplace that covered one whole wall of the
comfortably furnished living room to guard against the cool days and damp, cold nights

experienced at this high elevation, in spite of being only a short distance from the
equator. The

mission station compound covered approximately forty acres, with the school, churches,
hospital

and homes of the missionaries scattered over the rolling hills that were thick with tropical
growth

of trees and bushes.

After a dinner of deliciously tender Water Buffalo steaks that had been pressure-
cooked,

fresh vegetables and apple pie, Florence, Peter, Stephanie and Matt sat before the roaring
fire

bringing themselves up to date on what had happened since they had last seen each other.
The

girls were sound asleep in a bedroom down the hall from where they sat.

"How is it going here, Peter? We hear things, of course, but with so many rumors
and

stories circulating it's hard to sort out what's fact and what's fiction."

"Things have changed so much," Peter began. "Some of the most faithful have
started to

show resentment and animosity toward us. Some more outwardly than others. What is so

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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disconcerting is that within the past two months two of our native ministers who have had

churches of their own, men who have known my father for years and me since I was
born, have

left the church. They've renounced Christ entirely and have gone back to heathen ways."

"But what's causing it?" Stephanie asked.


"Although I hate to admit it," Peter answered, "it appears to have been there all
along.

What has brought it to the surface has been the movement for independence throughout
Africa.

They have their lines of communication, primitive as they may be. The blacks who look
to gain

personally will tell the masses anything, promise them anything, to incite them against
whites and

whatever remotely resembles white supremacy. Simply put, it's a rebellion against
whatever seems

to be in authority over them, no matter how beneficial it is, at least in our terms. There is
no

question that much of what they want to eliminate is bad."

"However," Florence said with conviction, "we are determined to continue in the
Lord's work."

"There is too much that must be accomplished here and elsewhere to do


otherwise," Peter

continued. "Our call and that of all our missionaries is quite clear. To care for the spiritual
and

physical needs of these people, no matter what happens. We hope the Lord will give us
the

strength to see it through."

The following morning after church services Peter and Florence took the Millers on
a tour of

the station. Matt had been there twice before during his travels and already knew most of
the

people on the station. The missionaries greatest pride, in addition to the three church
buildings,

was the hospital. It was made up of one large rectangular room containing just over 100
beds,
with two operating rooms at one end of the building. At the other end was the outpatient
clinic.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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The hospital was well equipped, all of it coming as a result of donations from numerous

congregations back in The United States.

Many of the missionaries were out in the bush conducting church services or
assisting native

ministers that they had trained. Because of the size of the station, by the time they arrived
back at

the house it was mid-afternoon.

"Let's have some refreshments girls," Florence said taking their hands. "I just
happen to

have baked some cookies for the occasion, and some lemonade is in order."

They were sitting on lawn chairs in front of the house when the Landrover came
bouncing

up the road and skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust just in front of them. The driver then
slumped

over the wheel, his head resting on hands that still gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"It's Doctor John," Peter said jumping to his feet.

Peter and Matt ran toward the vehicle with Stephanie, Florence and the girls close
behind.

The man in the Landrover was John Sorrel, one of the mission doctors the Millers had
met once

when he and his wife had visited Bukavu.

"John, what is it?" Peter yelled as they reached him.

He turned to look at them and seeing the two women and three children coming
behind he
threw up his hand and yelled, "Stop! Don't come any closer! Stay back. You mustn't see
this," and

with that he leaped out of the Landrover and stood blocking their view with his body. His
clothes

were soaked with blood.

The women grabbed the girls and stopped some distance away.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

"Please tell the women to take the children in the house," he said hoarsely.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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"John - are you all right?" Florence yelled.

"I'm OK, Flo, It's just something I've experienced, that's all. Believe me I'm all
right."

"Florence," Peter said, "you and Stephanie take the girls inside. We'll join you
shortly."

As the women and children went into the house John half turned toward the
Landrover's

open side and pointed to the back seat. "Look at that. There wasn't a thing I could do
about it,"

he said despairingly.

Peter and Matt leaned forward and peered in.

"Good Lord," Peter said, as both he and Matt drew back in revulsion.

Crumpled in the back seat was the body of a black who was covered with caked,
dried

blood. Closer inspection revealed that his head was laying at a grotesque angle. It was
almost

completely severed from his body, the shredded flesh and internal organs hideously
exposed at the
base of the neck.

"I was just standing outside my church in the bush talking to three or four
members of the

congregation when this man and two others walked up to me. I noticed that this one was
shackled

at the ankles and wrists. One of the others was holding a leash that was tied around this
man's

neck and he stepped up to me and asked me if I wanted to buy him. May God forgive me,
but my

answer cost this man his life."

Matt and Peter glanced at each other. "What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"I said to him...., 'but this.... is a living man,' and with that he grabbed a panga out
of the

hands of a native standing close by and swung it at this man's throat, severing his head
almost

completely from his body. 'Now he is not alive', he said. He did it so quickly that I had no
chance

to stop it."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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Peter turned to Matt. "Would you go back in the house and tell the women in the

best manner possible. I'm sure they're worried about John. I'll go with him to handle this
with the

authorities. You get in, John, I'll drive."

As he started around to the other side of the vehicle John said, "Didn't even say
hello,

Matt. I'm sorry. How are you and the family?"


"Fine, John. Thank you. We'll see you and Loretta later."

---------

As planned, two days after Doctor John's terrible ordeal Matt and Peter made the
descent

down the escarpment just to the east in an area bordering on the northwestern edge of
Albert

National Park, a game refuge in Congo located just west of the Ugandan border. The
game there

was not as plentiful and varied as in Uganda, but at it's edge some could be found,
particularly

antelope, and they were the objective of this hunt. They had arranged for ten natives to go
along

with them to act as beaters. They would be given most of the meat if the hunt was
successful.

Peter or Matt, depending upon who bagged the animal, would keep the head as well as
one hind

quarter.

The late afternoon sun added to the discomfort of the powder-like pollen that was
shaken

loose from the tall, thick grass as they forced their way through it. It filled the air and in
turn their

nostrils and throats. The exposed parts of their perspiring bodies - faces, hands and arms -
began

to itch ferociously, and large welts began to appear where try as they might they could not
keep

from scratching. They were searching for an area that would provide the right terrain to
employ

the beaters to advantage.

Other than sighting two antelope that were at too great a distance to bring down
even
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-149-

with Peter's powerful rifle, they had only encountered small game all day, mostly wild
pigs and

baboons. They had seen two cheetah and a pride of lions, the cheetah keeping their
distance and

the lions seeming totally unconcerned by their relative nearness. But this was not the
game they

were after, and to kill them would have served no purpose other than to diminish an
already

rapidly shrinking breed of animals, something in which neither Matt or Peter wanted to
play a

part.

They were becoming discouraged, both knowing that in a little while the light
would begin

to fade and they would need to begin their overnight trek up the escarpment. They came
out into

a wide clearing and looking to his right and then left Matt could see that the undulating
ground

was clear for a great distance in both directions except for the occasional scrub tree here
and

there. High savanna grass of the type they had just come through formed the other border
along

the opposite side of the clearing, which he quickly guessed was approximately forty yards
wide.

Based on the different sites they had chosen for setting up a hunt so far that day this
layout

seemed ideal.

Peter gave instructions to the blacks who had been chosen as beaters and four of
them

immediately walked to the right and away from Peter and Matt with four others going to
the left.

The man who had been assigned to Matt stayed beside him and one stood beside Peter.
When

each of the two groups of four had gone a distance of about fifty yards they stopped and
turned,

at which time Peter waved and they walked in single file into the high grass on the
opposite side

of the clearing.

"OK, Matt, just as before, they'll go into the grass for a certain distance where
they'll

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-150-

spread out and curve around toward each other way back in the savanna. Then they'll turn
this

way and begin to slowly walk toward us yelling and beating those sticks and pangas
together as

loud as they can. We won't be able to see them but we'll certainly hear them. You go
about thirty

yards down that way to your left and I'll go the same distance to the right where we'll
station

ourselves on this opposite side of the clearing. Any antelope that is flushed out or any
game that

endangers your safety, let him have it, but remember, you've got to wait until it gets clear
of the

other side far enough and to your left before you shoot. It's got to be at a minimum of
forty-five

degrees away from the other side and to your left, otherwise you may hit a beater. I'll be
shooting
to the right in the same manner.

"Forget anything that goes in between us. If it's something that is dangerous let
me handle

it. You just freeze." Peter looked in both directions along the clearing and pursed his lips.
"I don't

like the degree of roll in this ground. There are blind spots along this clearing where you
can't

see what's down over the other side. Let's make sure we stand on one of the rises so that
we can

see what's immediately below on either side."

Matt nodded and they both walked the prescribed distance in opposite directions
with

their scantily clad assistants beside them, turned to face the opposite side of the clearing
and

waited. The slight depression in between them was clearly visible to both of them but
Matt could

not see what was below Peter's right before it rose again some distance beyond. He knew
Peter

could not see immediately down and to the left of him. Although the rifle he had was
powerful it

did not match Peter's. Matt's was capable of easily bringing down the largest of antelopes,
but

Peter's could kill the largest game, even an elephant if used properly, and Peter knew how
to use

it.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-151-

Matt glanced to his right at Peter who waved at him from approximately sixty
yards away.
Seven minutes went by before the shouts of the beaters began deep in the high savanna
grass.

They were moving slowly toward the clearing where Matt and Peter were standing on the

opposite side with their bearers.

Matt had found himself less and less tense with each new setup as the day wore
on, the

lack of any concrete results lulling him into a more relaxed condition each time. As the
beaters

drew closer and the sound of the bamboo sticks and broad-bladed pangas being beaten
together

grew louder, the usual birds were being flushed to flight out of the bush ahead of them
and went

fluttering overhead.

Matt's attention was drawn off to his right by an unusually loud cracking of
underbrush

and he noticed considerable movement in the high grass on the other side. It seemed to be
moving

at an angle toward Peter's position. 'That must be a damned good sized antelope,' he
thought. He

glanced at Peter who had raised his rifle to a high port arms position enabling him to
quickly place

it in a firing position against his shoulder.

Suddenly, crashing into the clearing to his right and directly opposite Peter a
huge,

bellowing black water buffalo, his head lowered in full charge thundered straight for
Peter. Matt

raised his rifle, but his position was poor in relation to the beaters and Peter. The charging
buffalo

made a poor head-on target if the angle was wrong with flat massive horns that seemed
to cover

the whole head when held down in charge. It was also one of the most dangerous animals
in

Africa when angry or wounded.

Matt stood frozen as Peter snapped the rifle to his shoulder. The shot had to be
perfectly

pinpointed to strike either just below the horns to pass through the jaws and into the chest
behind

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-152-

or if carrying it's head low enough just above the lowered head at the shoulders. In either
case the

areas within which the bullet must enter were extremely small.

Just as Peter fired the black beast swerved to Peter's right, the bullet striking him
just

above and behind the right shoulder. The force of the projectile stunned it momentarily
but the

express-train speed at which he was traveling in spite of his monstrous size carried him
just to the

right and slightly down the slope where it crashed to it's front knees. As quickly as it had
fallen it

regained it's feet just as Peter took aim again and fired. This time the bullet tore through
the lower

part of it's neck. The animal was stunned again but keeping it's feet and thundering
straight ahead

it crashed noisily into the high grass behind and to the right of Peter and disappeared.

Matt ran toward Peter who was now rapidly backing away from the spot into
which the

buffalo had run, his rifle poised for immediate use. The beaters were now all entering the
clearing

talking and pointing excitedly.

"How about that?" Matt said as he came up to Peter. "Scared hell out of me. That
thing

was monstrous. He's wounded badly."

Peter's eyes swept back and forth across the side of the clearing into which it had

disappeared looking for any signs of movement. All of the natives were now bunched up
beside

and behind Peter.

"As you know, the most dangerous thing and the most serious mistake that can be
made,"

Peter said without stopping his surveillance," is to go into the bush after a wounded
buffalo.

They're smart enough when well, but when wounded they are uncanny. They'll circle
back and

come up behind you like a runaway express. It's best to stay in clearings and get out of
the area as

fast as you can. I know it sounds cruel to leave a wounded animal, but this is one of those
cases

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-153-

where to do otherwise is just plain stupid. Now let's move out of here."

He started to walk rapidly to his left along the clearing, never taking his eyes off
the

opposite side. "Keep close to this side and it will give us at least the space between here
and the

other side to react," Peter said softly. "Let's keep the noise down in order to not telegraph
our
location." He spoke to the natives telling them the same thing in their tribal tongue. "I've
got to

say this, that's one of the biggest I've seen. He must go close to fifteen hundred pounds, if
not

more. Sure would like to have that head, and these men would have a lot of meat to feed

themselves and their families."

Peter started walking rapidly along the edge of the clearing with Matt with the
natives

following close behind. None of them took their eyes off the high grass along the other
side,

looking up and down the clearing while walking along. As they moved over the rolling
ground

there were points at the bottom of the depressions where they could not see beyond the
top of the

rise just to their front and to their rear.

"I don't like this restricted visibility," Peter said softly. "Let's stretch out along this
side so

that we have a point man and one in the rear that gives us eyes over these higher levels in
front

and behind. You stay with me, Matt.

He spoke again to the natives, pointing to some of them and indicating the
positions they

should take. They nodded in agreement and began to spread out in single file along the
edge of

the clearing.

"We'll stay in the center," Peter said, "in order to provide equal protection to both
ends of

the line." They were now some one hundred yards beyond the point where they had
encountered
the animal. As they walked rapidly in silence, the distance between them and the grass
into which

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-154-

the buffalo had entered widened quickly.

"That should do it," Peter said. "We'll keep going in this direction toward the
escarpment

and start our climb back. The light's beginning to fail."

Peter and Matt were standing at the top of one of the rises with the line of natives
strung

out to the bottom of the depressions to their front and rear. Matt was suddenly startled by
Peter's

wild yelling at the blacks and those to the rear began shouting and running toward them.
Then

Matt saw it. A huge black mass flashed over the top of the hill directly behind them and
roared

straight down the side of the hill at the screaming blacks who were scattering in every
direction.

The beast's hooves were pounding the earth and throwing up great clods of dirt.

Peter yelled something and obeying his command the natives ran to the right and
left rather

than straight ahead. The animal made it's decision quickly and swerved to the left in
pursuit of the

man who had chosen that direction to run. The distance between them was shrinking
rapidly and

the beater was just a few steps from a horrible death.

Peter raised his rifle, led the monster's shoulder into his sights and fired. The
instant the

high-powered bullet struck the animal it's front legs buckled and it crashed to the ground,
sliding

some feet ahead from the momentum created by it's charge. The blacks kept running and
Peter

took aim and fired again, hitting the struggling animal just behind the left shoulder,
killing it

instantly.

Matt and Peter sat watching while the happy natives excitedly cut up the dead
buffalo.

"He's the biggest I've ever seen," Peter said. "I've experienced and heard many stories
about the

craftiness of those animals, but do you know that bugger must have been following along

practically on tiptoe just inside and out of sight at the very edge of that grass over there.
When he

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-155-

saw we had hit a blind spot he came out and up and over. Unbelievable."

The steep climb back up the escarpment in darkness was considerably harder than
the trip

down and would take all night with frequent rest stops along the way. It was a beautiful,
clear

night with a full moon overhead so bright that it bathed the rolling open savanna below in
a soft

yellow light. To the east over the flatter country beyond he could make out the
mushroom-like

trees that dotted the landscape. He knew that somewhere in the distance were the
Mountains of

the Moon, although he could see nothing of them from here.

During one of the rest stops Matt sat gazing at the lovely landscape far below.
"You
know, Peter, I know there are many things about this continent that are fascinating, and
what

we're looking at this moment is only one small part, but I'm beginning to understand
something

that I was told not too long after I arrived. Once you have lived on this continent for any
length of

time and then leave it, forever after you never feel completely at home, no matter where
you are."

As they approached the top Matt felt that his tired legs would carry him no
further. Peter

and the natives appeared as fresh as they had when they had started out early the morning
before.

He stumbled along behind Peter in the semi-darkness as they walked into a native village
perched

precariously on the side of the escarpment. It contained no more than ten or twelve mud
and

thatch huts and with the noise of the groups arrival, men, women and children tumbled
out of

them in greeting. All were in varying degrees of nakedness.

They sat down to rest and one much older black to whom the others seemed to
defer sat

in the circle with Peter and Matt. Peter and the elder began to converse in their tribal
tongue while

the others stood silently in back of them.

Turning to Matt Peter said, "He's offering us refreshments and invites us to rest."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-156-

"Sounds wonderful. Please thank him for me."


Peter's thanks prompted a toothless smile from the old man and small apple
bananas that

had been picked from the trees around the huts were brought for them to eat while Peter
and the

old man continued to talk. These sweet, tasty bananas were a type that could not normally
be

found on a grocer's shelves back in The United States. While Peter and the village leader
talked

and laughed Matt kept smiling at the others who in turn would smile and occasionally
hide their

faces in their hands in mock embarrassment.

Shortly they were each brought small gourds that contained a very hot fluid.
When the old

man raised his to his lips everyone followed suit, including Matt. It was steaming hot, and
as a

result his first taste was fortunately a small one. He almost gagged, but by covering up
quickly in

the half light he was certain no one had noticed. He knew he had to finish the drink,
whatever it

was, otherwise he would be insulting his hosts. He continued to drink slowly, with every
sip

tasting worse than the last. He could not determine what the drink was, only that it
reminded him

of a mixture of cigarette and cigar ashes mixed with hot water.

After thanking the elder and his people they resumed their climb up the
escarpment. Matt

was again walking directly behind Peter.

"Peter, what was that drink?"

Peter laughed. "It was tea. Why?"


"Tea. I've never tasted tea like that in my life. What was in it?"

"Actually there was some tea in it, but they mix it with some other plants to give
it taste."

'I can imagine what those plants are,' Matt thought. 'Possibly Peter knows and is
not

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-157-

saying, but whether he does or not I think it's best that I keep my thoughts to myself.
Baptists will

not use tobacco in any form and I'd be willing to bet we just had a drink of boiled
tobacco

leaves.'

---------------

They said their good-byes with Stephanie and Florence tearfully promising they
would see

each other in four months time when Florence and Peter would be coming to spend a few
days

with the older Hanscoms in Bukavu. Matt then drove the short distance north to Beni
where they

swung southeast on the main road that led through the northern section of Albert National
Park

and then south to the foothills that fronted on the western face of the Ruwenzori Range.
Astride

the equator in the Belgian Congo, these 'Mountains of the Moon' pushed icy peaks 16,000
feet up

into the clouds which shrouded them 300 days of the year. From there the road skirted
around the

southern edge of the mountains into Uganda and eventually Queen Elizabeth Park and
Mweya

Lodge.

As they drove southeast from Beni they came to the very base of the 16,794 foot

snowcapped peak that was shrouded in mist and clouds. At Margherita they stopped in
the thin,

chilly atmosphere to gaze at the peak high above in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the
snow. In

this region the vegetation was unlike any they had ever seen, even differing from that
which they

found around Bukavu. They had the eerie feeling that they were standing back in
prehistoric

times. Jagged, razor-sharp leaves on bushes and trees, oddly shaped flowers, that
although

colorful seemed to be pale and faded by comparison to the rich, deep colors found in the
lower

elevations.

From there they proceeded through the southern foothills of the mountain range
into

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-158-

Uganda, shortly afterward entering the boundary of Queen Elizabeth Park along the
northern edge

of Lake Edward with it's abundance of hippos splashing and grunting along the water's
edge. This

was big game country and certain precautions had to be taken. An automobile provided
little

protection against the charge of an African elephant.

They continued driving southeast along the highlands toward the lodge, and as
they
penetrated deeper into the park the scrub trees and bushes alongside the road were
teeming with

colonies of baboons racing in every direction. Some of the mothers were carrying babies
that were

dangling from their bellies and hanging on to their backs, their little arms and legs tightly
wrapped

around the mother's neck and waist. These animals could be vicious, and windows were
better left

wound up tightly. When Matt stopped the car for a closer look some of them scampered
up over

the roof and hood peering in the windows and baring long, sharp teeth. One proceeded to
relieve

himself on the windshield just over Matt's head.

As they drove on further Matt pointed to the left and front. "Look girls. Look at
the wild

boar, the pigs, on the left."

A group of six small black pigs, their mean looking tusks protruding from the
sides of

their mouths, scampered across an open area, their tiny feet moving rapidly and little tails
stuck

straight up in the air. The girls yelled with delight.

"Aren't they cute," Stephanie said. "Their hooves look as though they're wearing
tiny

high-heeled shoes."

"They look cute," Matt said," but those tusks can do a lot of damage."

Periodically they would see these little bands of tuskers and as the car approached
they

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-159-

would all react in the same manner by running a zigzag course, normally curly-cued tails
stuck

straight up in the air and squealing their heads off.

He turned off the main road at the now familiar road sign 'Mweya Lodge' that he
had

followed on previous trips. It was a narrow dirt road that wound in and around scrub trees
and

brush. As they drove on they saw some Water Buck, one of Africa's largest antelopes,
grazing just

off the road. Just beyond they could see hippos bathing in the water close to shore. At one
point

where they came close to the water's edge they came upon a huge old hippo that appeared
to be

injured. It was followed closely by three hyenas that were keeping their distance but who
were

obviously waiting for their prey to falter. Then they would attack the helpless animal.
Twice the

hippo turned and half - heartedly made a menacing move at it's tormentors, they backing
off a

short distance while continuing to circle. Then the hippo would turn wearily and the
deadly game

of follow the meal would resume. Matt drove on, fearing that they might see the
inevitable.

Up to this point they had seen some elephant a few times but always at a distance.
As

Matt negotiated a sharp curve around some scrub brush that obscured the view ahead they

suddenly came upon a huge black bull elephant standing no more than twenty feet to the
left of

the road. He was facing away from the road, but as they came around the curve he heard
the car

and swung around facing them, his great fan-like ears waving back and forth. Those large
ears

were the most distinguishing feature of this more savage African elephant from his
smaller-eared

Indian cousin.

Matt brought the car to a stop since he felt he was still a safe distance down the
road. To

have continued would have brought them within a few short steps of an animal that in
spite of it's

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-160-

size could have been upon them in seconds.

"Don't make any quick moves," Matt said. "We'll just wait him out. With the
windows up

and the engine running the fumes from the car will be offensive to him and should drive
him away."

They watched as the huge animal stood fanning the air with his ears, the sign of
alarm. He

was contemplating the car and it's occupants. Then, as if to show disdain for this small
object that

had intruded upon his solitude he stomped across the road immediately in front of them
to the

other side, climbed a small incline, turned around and looked down at them and bellowed
so

loudly it literally shook the car. Swinging around it went crashing off through the thick
bush and

disappeared.
From there a short drive brought them to the entrance of the lodge. The group of

buildings sat high on a hill that overlooked the lake and channel. There were two varieties
of

rooms available at the lodge. The long narrow white stucco building contained rooms
much like

that of a motel in the States, although more rustically furnished. At the end of this
building was a

restaurant with equally rustic wooden furniture. A large door at one end of the restaurant
led to a

veranda that overlooked Lake Edward and Kazinga Channel below. In back of this
complex sat a

thatched hut that housed the reception desk and office, behind which was a group of
similar huts

that provided separate quarters for lodging. Although much larger than the average native
hut

it gave the impression you were being housed in native fashion. The interior of wooden
floors,

walls and inside toilet and bath belied the exterior appearance. The Millers had chosen
one of

these huts for their night's stay.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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The hut contained one large bed and three cots for the girls which were placed
around the

larger bed, each with it's own mosquito netting. After having taken the girls to early
dinner they

were now all settled in for the night, tired from the day's long drive and all looking
forward to

tomorrow and the boat ride that would take them to points along the shores of the two
lakes and

the channel. From the vantage point of the boat they would be able to pull up close to the
game

along the water's edge and cruise close to the hippos in the water.

Matt and Stephanie had eaten dinner and were relaxing on the veranda listening to
the

sounds of Africa below, trying to distinguish one animal noise from another. After a lull
in their

conversation Stephanie turned to Matt.

"Sebastian came to me just after we put the girls to bed and told me something
that has me

worried for Florence and Peter's safety. He said that he was told by some of the natives on
the

station that many black people who love Peter and Flo are being forced to hate them."

"Did he tell you why?"

"He said that some bad people from outside come and say that they will hurt their
family

and children if they don't do as they are told and fight and kill the whites. If they do as
they are

told they are promised the white man's belongings after independence. His house, car,
food,

and...."

"And what?"

"His wife." She stared at him and waited for his reaction.

"Peter knows about those things. He told me. But he says that he and Florence as
well as

the other missionaries are combating all of it with their faith in the Lord and what will be,
will be."
------------------

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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He was vaguely aware of Stephanie having gotten out of bed and that the light
was on in

the bathroom of the hut. He rolled over and was drifting back to sleep when he felt
someone

shaking him. He sat upright and Stephanie was leaning over him.

"Matt ....Matt! Wake up."

"What's wrong?" he asked sleepily.

"It's Lisa. She's been throwing up. She says her insides ache. I have her back in
bed now,

but this is the third time I've had to get up with her."

"Must be something she ate last night," he said, now wide awake.

"They all had the same thing. Why aren't the other girls sick?"

"Maybe she was the only one that had a bad piece of food." He was trying his best
to stay calm.

"Mommy, I'm sick again." Lisa was sitting up in bed. "I have to throw up."

Stephanie went to her and helping her out of bed took her into the bathroom. This
time

Matt followed. Through the window he noticed first light in the sky to the east, telling
him it was

close to six o'clock.

Of the three girls Lisa was the most quiet and withdrawn. Almost to a fault she
very

seldom complained and as a result quite often when she was sick it was difficult to help
her. But
this time it was different and for this reason it worried them. She began to complain about
severe

pains inside and she could not stop vomiting. Soon she was so weak that Matt had to
carry her

back and forth between the bed and the bathroom.

"I'm going to the office," he said. "I want to see if there's a doctor here." He had
just

placed Lisa back in bed again, noticing that she felt feverish and limp in his arms. She
was now so

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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weak she could only speak with a great amount of effort.

He dressed quickly while Stephanie bathed Lisa's face with a damp cloth. By this
time her

eyes were tightly closed and her breathing was labored. She was burning up with fever.

"Oh, Matt, I'm worried. I've never seen her like this before."

"She'll be all right. There must be a doctor here. I'll hurry."

A short while later he came back.

"There's no doctor here, damn it, and there's no one here yet who knows where
the closest

one is. Come on. I've checked out. It will take us a few hours, but we're heading back to
the

mission station where we know there's medical help."

They wakened Sebastian and he quickly helped pack and load the car. Shortly they
were

heading northwest back along the same road they had traveled the day before. Stephanie
held
Lisa, limp and feverish, in her arms.

They had traveled for some distance when Stephanie suddenly cried,"Oh, Matt, I
can't get

her to wake up! She's breathing, but so slowly. Lisa! Lisa! Wake up, Honey, please!"
Tears began

to stream down Stephanie's face and the two girls in the back seat began to whimper.

Sebastian leaned forward pointing ahead and to the left. "Bwana! Bwana, look!
Hospital!"

Both Stephanie and Matt looked in the direction he was pointing. There was a
long, low

white building with a huge red cross painted on the end that faced the road. They had
passed it

the day before but had taken no notice of it. It was one of the many outpatient clinics that
were to

be found in the bush for treatment of minor ills of the natives. At certain times of the day
a

medical doctor would be on duty, with the rest of the time covered by a black technician
who was

only qualified to dispense certain medicines and inoculations.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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"Let's hope there's a doctor on duty," Matt said as he accelerated the car.

They came to a stop at the roadside in front of the clinic and Matt raced around
the car

taking the unconscious Lisa from Stephanie. Walking in front of Sebastian and the other
two girls

they went toward the building. As they walked around the corner they came upon a long
line of

blacks standing outside. The line led to a native at the opposite end of the clinic building
who was

dressed in a white smock and standing next to a table that was covered with bottles and

bandaging materials.

As they proceeded along the line toward the technician the natives fell completely
silent,

staring at the little white-haired girl who appeared to be dead. As they approached the
table Matt

said in English, "Is there a doctor here?"

"No, Bwana." He was obviously frightened and did not take his eyes off Lisa.

"Will one be here soon?" With great effort he forced himself to remain calm.

"Not today. He comes Monday, Wednesday and Saturday."

"Where can I find one quickly? Where is the closest one?" He fought back the
rising panic

within. He had to keep the others calm. Stephanie was rubbing Lisa's hands and wrists,
frantically

trying to arouse her.

"There is a hospital in Kilembe Mines. A doctor is on duty there all the time," the

technician answered, still staring at Lisa.

He almost shouted, then caught himself. "Tell me where it is - quickly!"

"The fork in the road you passed a short distance back?"

"Yes?"

"Turn left. You must then go about twenty miles through Nyabirongo and Nsenyi
on up

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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into Kilembe Mines at the base of the mineral mountain. There is a settlement there with
a

hospital."

"Thanks!"

They all rushed back to the car and climbed in quickly. Matt pushed the VW as
hard as he

could as Stephanie began to rock back and forth in the seat beside him, Lisa cradled in
her arms.

She was crying softly.

"My baby ... my baby."

It seemed as though the drive was endless and that they would never reach the
village, but

the Ugandan's directions were accurate. They pulled up to a line of red brick houses along
the

narrow road that curved ahead up into the mountains. He stopped at the first house along
the

road just beyond the roadside sign that proclaimed 'Kilembe'. Leaping out of the car he
raced to

the front door and pounded hard on it. He waited a few seconds and then impatiently
knocked

again, this time much harder.

He was about to run to the next house when the door opened and a short thin
white man

stood before him.

"Please, I apologize, but our little girl is very sick. We were told that there is a
hospital

here and that there is a doctor on duty. Where is it?"

The man glanced around Matt in the direction of the car, then pointing said,
"Straight up
the road, the same direction your car is headed. It's the first group of buildings on the
right. Red

brick. Can't miss it. You go ahead and wait there." His thick accent was unmistakably
British "The

doctor isn't there but I know he's up at the mines at the clinic. I'll go get him! You can
wait in the

little room that's in the front of the building." He turned and yelled back into the house,
"Hey

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-166-

Midge, I'll be back shortly! Got to go to the mine!"

-------------------

Stephanie was rocking back and forth while nervously brushing Lisa's hair from
her closed

eyes. Matt paced the floor in front of her and Sebastian sat on the bench on one side of
the small

room, the two other girls asleep beside him.

"Where the hell is he?" Matt half yelled.

Just then the screen door swung open and a man so large that he filled the
doorway

stepped through. He was at least six feet, four inches tall with a barrel chest and broad
shoulders,

thick, black hair and an equally thick, bushy, black mustache. He was dressed in white
shorts,

white short-sleeved shirt, and huge great knee-high black rubber boots. He was followed
close

behind by the little Englishman.

Without a word he went straight to Lisa, quickly checking her pulse and then
examining her
eyes. Reaching down he took her into his massive arms and in a booming voice said in
thickly

accented English, "I am Bezbatchenko....., Doctor Bezbatchenko! You vait!" and he


disappeared

with Lisa cradled in his arms through the double swinging doors at the opposite end of
the room.

As the door swung open Matt could see an array of equipment inside. It appeared to be a
small

operating room. Stephanie looked at Matt apprehensively.

The Englishman sensed their concern. "Don't worry, Mum, that Russian gentleman
may not

look the part, but he's the finest doctor we've ever seen at the mines. Those big hands
have

performed some delicate pieces of surgery in that room. We all have the utmost faith in
him."

Matt went to Stephanie and put his arm around her shoulders. She seemed to
relax..

Smiling at the man who had helped them she said, "Thank you, Mr....?"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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"My name is Fowler, Dave Fowler, Mum."

"I'm Stephanie Miller and this is my husband Matt." He shook Matt's extended
hand.

"Those are our daughters Betsy and Jenny and that's Sebastian. How can we thank you?"

"Think nothing of it. What's people for if not to help each other?"

"You say the doctor is Russian?" Matt asked.

"Oh, he's British all right! Immigrated to England from Russia a few years back.
Completed his medical training at the London School for Tropical Medicine. Then came
here."

The school he had mentioned was contained in the most prestigious, advanced
hospital for

the study and treatment of tropical diseases in the world.

They alternately sat and stood in silence for some minutes, each afraid to break
the silence.

Fowler stood by the door, respecting their desire not to carry on polite conversation.
Finally

Stephanie could hold back no longer.

"Do you think she's all right? What could be taking so long?"

"He has to examine her, Honey. It hasn't been that long. She's in good hands. You
heard

what Mr. Fowler said."

"Please call me Dave."

"Thank you. Please call us Stephanie and Matt," he responded.

Some minutes more passed and then the operating room doors swung open and
the huge

Russian came into the room.

"Vots da liddle girl's name?"

"Lisa," Stephanie quickly replied.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-168-

"Vell, Lisa now is taking glucoze trew da arm. She seem anemic! Yes! Very
anemic! Don't

know vot cause dat. Hoping only bad diet and not from someting else inside."

"I don't understand," Stephanie said bewildered. "She gets plenty of fruits and
vegetables,

fish and meat. We live in an area that's famous for it's beautiful fruits and vegetables.

"Ver is dat?"

"In Bukavu, in the Belgian Congo," Matt replied.

"Well, because looks good don't mean got food walue. You know....., weetameens.
But

anyhow, von ting sure, she got to have out di appendix.... Now I make operation!"

Stephanie grabbed Matt's arm searching his face for comfort.

Before Matt could speak Bezbatchenko smiled broadly showing large white teeth
beneath

the contrasting, black, bushy mustache.

"Madame, good ting you got here now, odervise could be much vorse. Please not
to

vorry. Dave, please to get Madeleine from Mine. She got to help." He looked at Matt and

Stephanie. "She da noorse. You vait here." He turned and pushed back through the
swinging

doors.

"I'll go get Madeleine. See you shortly," and Fowler left.

The long wait began. The girls eventually wakened saying they were hungry and
Stephanie

asked them to be patient a little longer until Lisa was made better. Then they could eat.
Sebastian

took them for a walk in the garden just outside.

Twice Doctor Bezbatchenko stuck his head through the door, peered around and

mumbled, "Madeleine not here yet?" and then disappeared behind the swinging doors.
This only

tended to heighten Stephanie and Matt's anxiety.


F. William Jung/KATANGA
-169-

Thirty minutes had elapsed since Flowler's departure when the front door opened
and a

large woman who appeared to be in her fifties walked in. She was dressed in nurse's
whites with a

small pleated transparent cap clipped to the back of her head.

"You must be the Millers. I'm Madeleine."

"Dat you Madeleine?" the doctor's voice boomed through the door. "Come! Let's
go!

Vare you been?"

She smiled at the Millers. "He sounds like a beast but your little girl is in good
hands."

Then she sped through the doors.

Another forty-five minutes passed during which time Matt alternately paced and
then sat

holding Stephanie's hands. The front door opened and Fowler came in with a covered tray
in his

hands.

"Me missis can't come for watchin' our kidders, but here's tea. I gave a tray to
your little

ones and your boy outside."

"You're very kind," Stephanie said. "Please thank your wife for us."

There were scones and a pot of hot tea under the cover. The scones were fresh and

delicious as was the steaming tea. Stephanie could only nibble at the scones, her thoughts
and

worries centered on what was happening behind those black, swinging doors just a few
steps

away. Fowler said he had to attend to a few matters and would check back with them
later. Then

he left.

Somewhat later Sebastian brought Betsy and Jenny inside and they all sat together
trying

to comfort each other. It was not long before Jenny was sound asleep in Sebastian's arms.

Two hours and thirty minutes had now gone by since the nurse had arrived. They
were

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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sitting quietly holding each other's hands almost as if in a trance when the operating room
doors

swung open and the doctor came into the room. Both of them leaped to their feet.

"Vell, everyting OK!"

Stephanie looked at Matt and tears began to stream down her face.

"Appendix out vich vas da problem, but made vorse by Lisa needing food. I mean
wid

weetameens. Dat glucoze do da chob now, but you got to buy weetameens to take. All of
you.

Many fruits, wegetables in Africa don't got good walue. Dey look beootiful, but no
weetamens."

"Madeleine putting her in room. Vait here. She come to take you. I stop later. Going to
mine

now." With that he walked out the front door. They could hear him speaking to someone

outside and shortly Fowler came in.

"I'm so happy the little one's all right. Knew she would be. Now, we've set up
some cots in

one of the empty flats just down the road for you and the girls, Mr. Miller." Matt started
to speak

and Fowler quickly corrected himself. "I mean, Matt," he smiled. Turning to Stephanie he

continued, "I know they'll put a bed in your little girl's room for you, Stephanie, and
they'll feed

you the same thing they'll give the little one. Your husband will be able to use our grocer
to buy

food. If your boy's a cook he has all the equipment in the flat he needs. The women got
some

utensils together, you know, pots, pans, plates and the like, and put them in the kitchen.
You're all
set. If there's anything more you need, just let us know."

"You're all being so kind, "Stephanie said. "How can we ever repay you?"

"We're glad to help, and happy your little girl is fine. Must rush home now and
tell my

missis it's all over and the little tyke is OK. Bye, bye now."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-171-

For the next four days Matt got up early each morning with Betsy and Jenny and
they

would have their breakfast prepared by Sebastian. Then they would all visit Stephanie
and Lisa

who although very pale and weak was slowly recovering. Matt and the two girls would
drive back

to the game park where they would spend the whole day exploring the reserve and riding
on the

launches close to the shores of the lakes and through the channel searching out the wild
animals
and birds. Each day they would have lunch at the lodge. At the end of the fourth day they
had had

their fill of these daily visits.

Sebastian stayed with Stephanie and Lisa, he providing valuable help in caring for
Lisa.

Doctor Bezbatchenko stopped in often as did some members of the tiny mining
community, all of

whom were British. They brought flowers and sweets as well as reading material for
Stephanie.

By the time they left on the fifth day they had become very close to their new-
found

British benefactors. The gruff doctor, whose photograph was taken holding tiny Lisa's
hand the

day they left, rubber boots and all, looked like a giant standing next to the pale little girl.

As they were thanking and saying goodbye to everyone Matt extended his hand to

Bezbatchenko. "Thank you, Doctor, we are so grateful. Thank you very much."

"You're velcome. You come see us again, but next time bring no sickness." he
laughed.

"I have to ask you something, Doctor," Stephanie said. "Why do you wear those
big black
rubber boots?"

"Oh dat! Vell .... ven in operations am always being shock from ekstatic electric.
Is no

good to go chumping round ven cutting into peoples." His booming laugh completely
drowned

out everyone else's.

They finished their good-byes and then drove south through Uganda along the
eastern
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-172-

shore of Lake Edward and back into Congo. After a short stop in Goma at a local doctor
to have

the clamps removed from Lisa's incision they proceeded south by the same route they had

followed with so much happy anticipation almost two weeks earlier.

It was a trip full of things better missed. Lisa would carry a reminder on her right
side that

would forever recall an ordeal which almost cost her her life. It would also remind all of
them of

some wonderfully nice people in a small mining village deep in the mountains and bush
of East

Africa.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-173-

CHAPTER 8

The wire had read 'Proceed Elisabethville December 2 for 7 days extraordinary

conference to update planning in light changing political situation stop will also provide

opportunity for all to observe progress of factory construction stop regards Albert'.

As he walked from the arrivals section into the waiting room Matt saw her
standing in the

group of waiting people. It would have been impossible to not notice her in any crowd,
whether

acquainted with her or not. Stepping through the milling people he met Monique in the
middle of

the room. Taking her hand he kissed her lightly on each cheek.

"What a nice surprise."


"Hello, Matt," she smiled. "Marcel is helping Jason set up the meeting room and I

volunteered to pick you up."

"I'm glad." He noticed she seemed tired, but it did not diminish her beauty in any
way. She

was dressed in a pale blue strapless dress that revealed bronzed smooth shoulders that
contrasted

perfectly with the long blonde hair that cascaded down over them. As usual she was the
center of

attention in the room.

"How are you?" she asked as she put her arm through his and they walked toward
the exit.

"I'm fine. How are you and Marcel?"

"I'm well, thank you. Now that you are here." She hesitated. "We can talk on the
way."

As they pulled out on to the main road Monique continued to look straight ahead.
"I've

missed you terribly, Matt. I know we cannot write or contact each other, but I've been
tempted so

many times. When I heard about this meeting I was so happy. It...., it's completely
finished

between Marcel and me now. It was actually finished long before we came back from

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-174-

Leopoldville. He has hardly a waking hour now when alcohol is not in control."

"Is he mistreating you?"

"Oh no, but we rarely speak and only when it is absolutely necessary. We still
share the

same home, but he is gone almost constantly, either traveling or spending his nights with
old

friends from his days in the army here in Congo. Matt, I really believe he blames me for
all of his

troubles, although he has never said as much."

"I can't believe he feels that way, Monique."

"You know," she continued, "we have not shared the same bed since long before
that

night you stayed at our home in Leopoldville. Apart from Marcel I have let no one touch
me ...

ever."

She continued to look straight ahead at the road. Matt felt awkward in remaining
silent

but could not decide how he should respond. Sensing this she said, "the reception dinner
is

tonight at seven at the Guest House Sabena where you will be staying."

She pulled up in front of the main building of the hotel. As he stepped from the
car Matt

squeezed her hand. "I'll see you at about seven."

She smiled and sped away as he turned and started up the steps, almost bumping
into

Albert Fouquet.

"Well hello, Matt! Seems you got the royal reception."

"Hello, Albert. I guess Marcel is at the office with Jason. Monique said--"

"Wonder who suggested she be the one to pick you up?" Albert interrupted.
"Marcel

wouldn't I'm sure. He can hardly put two sensible words together."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-175-

Matt walked by Albert toward the reception desk. As he passed Albert he said,
"There will

be a better time and place to talk about both Monique and Marcel."

"Yes! We must take the time. I insist! We have enough problems developing
without extra

curricular activities on the part of our employees. Activities that could jeopardize our
operation as

well as some careers."

Matt stopped, turned and looked hard at Albert. "Since Monique is no longer
employed by

us you must be talking about Marcel, me, or both of us. Your concern for me is
unwarranted,

however, your systematic destruction of another human being is cause for concern."

Albert started to speak, then caught himself. Smiling he said, "As you suggest,
there will

be a better time and place. But no matter what the discussion, never forget who is the
superior

and who is the subordinate."

Without waiting for a response he turned and walked out to the parking lot
leaving Matt

standing in the center of the reception room.

------------------

The atmosphere at dinner was strained and tense, everyone knowing the situation
in which

Monique and Marcel found themselves. They had not spoken to each other, although they
had

arrived together. Where Marcel was concerned he was really not capable of
communicating with
anyone. He was already drunk when they had arrived and as the dinner progressed he
became

increasingly loud. His language became so foul that Jason finally helped him from the
room to

take him home. Albert sat passively through the whole affair acting as if Marcel did not
exist. A

short time later Jason came back and walking to Monique whispered something in her
ear. She

looked up, smiled and thanked him.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-176-

Later Matt was dancing with Monique in the club adjacent to the restaurant.
"Monique,

Albert saw you drop me off here today. He was very pointed about his thoughts."

"What did he say?"

Matt told her what had happened. "He and I are very close to becoming involved
in a

more detailed discussion," he added. "It's been coming on for some time now. I don't
know what

the outcome will be, but certain matters must be resolved."

"Please do not let him do to you what he has done to Marcel," she pleaded. "There
are

times when I feel that if I would go away it would eliminate the cause of Albert's
vindictiveness."

"Don't talk like that. If you were gone it would be something else that would drive
Albert

to destroy anyone around him that in his warped way he sees as some sort of threat.
Anyway," he
smiled, "I wouldn't let you go."

He snapped off the bathroom light. The half-light from the small lamps lining the
paths

outside his guest house cottage flickered through the waving leaves of the palms and
thick shrub,

dancing eerily over the walls. A cool breeze was blowing softly through the partially open
jalousie

windows and door. He slipped off his pajama top on the way to the bed, deciding to sleep
in just

the bottoms and leave the air conditioner off tonight.

He lay thinking about the evening just ended. He had not had much opportunity to
talk to

Monique. Most of the talk centered around the developing political situation and the
increasingly

loud demands for independence by the Congolese. It still seemed that all conversation
eventually

came around to that topic.

Suddenly he raised his head. He thought he detected tapping on the door. He got
out of

bed and as he was walking toward the door the tapping began again. He wound the glass

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-177-

jalousie slats further open on the door and peering through the screen saw Monique
standing in

the flickering shadows. He quickly opened the door.

She stood immobile in front of the open door, a look of undisguised longing on
her

beautiful face. He reached out and took her hand, pulling her inside. Closing the door he
embraced her, kissing her fully. She slowly moved her body against his as he unzipped
her

strapless dress, which she pulled down over her hips letting it drop to the floor. She was
dressed

only in the half cup strapless brassiere that accented her firm, young breasts and bikini
panties.

She reached behind her back and unsnapped the brassiere and it also dropped to the floor,
then

turned and walked to the bed, stepping out of her shoes on the way. Laying down she
held her

arms up to him, inviting him. Her slender, bronzed body contrasted with the white sheets,
the

bikini barely providing cover where it stretched across her flat, smooth skin.

He untied the string of his pajamas and let them drop to the floor. Bending down
he kissed

her fully and began caressing her. He gazed at her magnificently curved body and
whispered,

"Monique, you are unbelievably beautiful."

She caressed him, driving him wild with desire, then pulled him down over her,
kissing his

face, mouth and neck, all the while saying over and over, "Mon cher, mon amour....,
please!"

He entered her body in a thrust of wild, uncontrollable passion. The warmth of her
body,

her writhing and repeated pronouncements of love drove them both to painful heights of
ecstasy

culminating in a climax that seemingly would never end. Then they lay perfectly still.

As their breathing slowly subsided he kissed her eyes, cheeks and mouth. Rolling
over on

his back he cradled her head on his shoulder.


"I love you so much, Matt. I knew it would be beautiful, but I never dreamed it
would be

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-178-

like this."

"You're so desirable, Monique. I can't imagine anyone letting you get away once
they had
possessed you."

She rolled over and laying half on his chest kissed him.

He pulled her closer. "How did you manage to come back here?"

"When Jason was taking him home, Marcel insisted that he be taken to one of his
friend's

house, which would mean drinking himself into a stupor and that he would be gone all
night. I just

drove around giving everyone a chance to get settled in for the night, including you." She
reached

down and began caressing him again and he was immediately aroused. "Matt, did I
satisfy you?

Were you pleased?"

He kissed her. "I think I've already answered that question."

"I know you love Stephanie, and I do not ask you not to. I do not want to ever put
you in a

position of having to decide between us. Vraiment...., honestly, I am afraid of the decision
you

might make." She kissed him softly. "But please love me also, Matt, that is all I ask. I told
you

before, let me believe what I want to believe. If it means having you only a part of the
time I will
settle for that."

He cupped her face in his hands and looked deep into her eyes. "Please
understand,

because I'm finding it hard to understand myself. My love for Stephanie has not
diminished. I will

not lie to you..., but who is it that dictates you must confine your love to one person?" He
pulled

her face down to his and softly kissed her again.

"Then love me, Matt! Not at someone else's expense. Just love me."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-179-

They embraced, and that night they made love again and again before he watched
her walk

away along the path just as a reddish-green light was growing in the eastern sky.

'I really do love you more than ever, Stephanie,' he thought. 'I will always love
you. My

problem is in rationalizing this feeling that I have for Monique with my love for you.'

Monique turned and waved as she disappeared around a corner in the path. He
waved and

closed the door, heading for the shower to prepare for the first day of the conference.

------------

They had toured the plant site which was in various stages of construction. It was
located

in an industrial park on the outskirts of Elisabethville just off the road leading to the
airport. The

adjacent new offices were close to being completed and were far enough along so that
they could

be used for the conference. They assembled in the conference room at two long tables
that faced a

smaller table placed in the front of the room, behind which Albert sat.

The group attending the conference included Matt, Kurt Wagemans representing

northeastern Congo, Derek Hass, the new man sent out from the States to Leopoldville
replacing

Marcel, he having been transferred to Elisabethville to a clerical position and Jason


Sterling who

covered Katanga and Kasai from his base in Elisabethville,

Walter Wagner the Controller, Ray Bartlett the new plant manager recently transferred
from

Consolidated's British organization, and Marcel.

"As our wire indicated," Albert began, "the purpose of this conference is to
discuss what

affect the changing political situation will have on our business, if any, so that we can
adjust our

planning and forecasting accordingly. We will also use this week to update ourselves on
new

products, refresh our memories on current lines and go through a series of sales technique

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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seminars. As you know, you have been instructed to take two hours each at various times
through

the week to provide an in-depth insight into your area of responsibility. Your presentation
should

be related to problems and accomplishments you have experienced since the time we
officially

opened over one year ago.


"Before we get into the agenda I want to make something quite clear. Whether

independence finally comes about or not, it will make no difference where our factory
project is

concerned. Our esteemed leaders back in the States are having reservations." Albert's
voice took

on a caustic tone. "They seem to feel we should hold up any further work and
expenditures until

after the political situation in Congo becomes clearer.

"The press and other news media around the world have described the conditions
here as

being close to chaos and out of control. They depict the future as dark and bleak and that
we are

on the brink of disaster and our management believes all of that garbage. Well we are
going

ahead!

"I am positive that the meeting scheduled next month in Brussels, the first time
that these

so-called Congolese leaders and the heads of the Belgian government will come together
in the

'sham' of being equals, will result in a demonstration to the world how many generations
away the

blacks are from being able to govern themselves.

"I am keeping management in the States fully advised, and that I see no cause for
alarm.

The exodus of whites that is now underway will reverse itself right after the January
meeting in

Brussels, when everyone, particularly the natives, will see how much the white man is
needed

here. We form too vital a part of this country." He paused and looked around the room.
"Are
there any questions?"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-181-

"Are there any contingency plans," Matt asked, "in the event that there are any
troubles? I

mean with respect to the protection and evacuation of people, guarding personal effects
and

company assets. I understand many companies have started to work closely with their
Embassies

and Consulates to provide for escape routes, transportation, food caches, and so forth.
They have

developed lists of names and assigned responsibilities with action plans for contacting
each other

and assembling in the event of an emergency."

"We are keeping ourselves informed!" Albert snapped. "All of that is wasted effort
and

time. I advise all of you to devote your time and effort to the conduct of our business and
not on

such nonsense!"

Matt leaned back in his chair and contemplated this man who was so blinded by
concern

over possible loss of stature that he would endanger the lives of the people who looked to
him for

leadership. 'In any case,' he thought, 'for the Millers it makes no difference. Unlike
Leopoldville,

Elisabethville and Stanleyville, there isn't a Consulate within hundreds of miles of us. We
are

completely on our own.'


The conference continued and there was no further discussion regarding the
political

situation, Albert making it quite clear that he would not tolerate it. As he had promised
her the

night before, during the lunch break Matt phoned Monique.

"This evening will be free. I'm having dinner with a couple of the men but I plan
to get

away early."

"Wonderful," she said. "I'll be there at midnight. It will be easier and much safer if
I come

to you."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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After finishing dinner at the Guest House with Jason and Kurt, Matt excused
himself

from their invitation to an after-dinner drink and went to his room. It was just past
11:30PM.

He was reading through his notes of that day's meeting when he heard a knock on the
door.

Checking his watch he noted that it was 11:48PM. He snapped off the only light that was
on in

the room and in the shadows walked to the door, the desire to see and hold Monique was

welling up inside him. He opened the door and his smile quickly disappeared. It was
Albert

Fouquet.

"That is the strangest answer to a door I have ever experienced," he sneered. "You
turned

off the lights before you opened the door, then your smile of welcome turns to a frown
when you
see me. Were you expecting someone else? Someone you prefer to meet in the dark?"

"At this late hour," recovering quickly Matt said, "I don't want to be caught with
my back

to the light while not being able to see clearly in front of me. Come in."

"I thought that this would be a good time for you and me to have our discussion,"
Albert

said as he walked through the door. "We will be spending five more days together and the
air

should be cleared now to prevent any continued misunderstanding."

"Your timing was perfect," Matt said. "I just arrived a few minutes ago."

"I know. My cottage is just over there," Albert pointed. "I can see your room
clearly from

mine. I was waiting and watching for you."

Matt's mind quickly raced back to last night and Monique's visit, wondering if
Albert had

been watching then. He also began to wonder what he was going to say when Monique
arrived in

a few minutes.

"Let us get to the purpose of my visit. What did you mean yesterday when you
referred to

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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my destroying a human being?"

"I can't believe you feel it's necessary to ask that question," Matt countered. "You
know I

was talking about Marcel."

"I believe he is perfectly capable of destroying himself without any help from
me."

"Why do you keep him? Why don't you fire him? You constantly indicate how
useless you

think he is. His drinking alone is enough justification to let him go."

Albert made a poor attempt at projecting sympathetic concern. "Because I feel


responsible

for him. I was the one who talked him into leaving Union Miniere to come to work for
us."

"Where can it all lead to then? Are you waiting for him to quit ...., or kill himself?
I

understand his pride won't let him quit because he feels it would be an admission of
failure.

Meanwhile he's completely ineffective. He drinks more and more, and he's lost
Monique!"

"To whom?" Albert scowled.

"To whom what?"

"To whom has he lost Monique?"

"I didn't imply he had lost her to anyone. It's obvious to everyone that their marriage
is

finished. Albert, let's 'clear the air,' as you said! You know damn well the only reason you
keep

him on is to continue this process of degrading and belittling him. To force him to destroy
himself

in front of everyone, but particularly in front of Monique, who makes it quite clear that
she has no

affection for you."

Albert shot up from his chair screaming, his voice cracking and face flushed.
"What the
hell do you know about her feelings for me or mine for her? She should never have
married that

weak son-of-a-bitch to begin with. I can give her anything she wants, and mark my
words, she

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-184-

will still be mine!"

Matt sat calmly looking up at him. "But can you give her unselfish love? Is she
capable of

loving you? How can you think that what you are doing to Marcel, or anyone else for that
matter,

right in front of her eyes, could make her care for you?"

Albert regained control of himself, returning to his cool, calculating manner. He


glared

down at Matt with measured hate and spoke slowly and deliberately. "The feelings or
relationship

that exists between Monique and me are my concern, not yours. But hear me well! I will
destroy

anyone who presumes to interfere with my plans for her, whether that person is married
to her or

not!" He turned and walked out, slamming the door so hard behind him that Matt thought
the

rattling jalousie panes would surely break.

He stood and looked at the door through which Albert had just departed. 'You, Albert,' he

thought, 'are in the process of destroying yourself as well. I just hope to hell that you
don't

take too many other people with you.'

He glanced at his watch. It was well past midnight. Fortunately Monique was late.
He waited until 1:OOAM, then decided to phone her hoping that she had not met
with

some accident. Before the first ring was complete she answered.

"Hello!"

"Monique, this is Matt. I was worried when you didn't come. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm all right. I did come but I heard voices in your room and when I listened
closely

I recognized Albert's voice. I waited for awhile and then decided it would be better to
leave. I

could not risk waiting out there too long. What did he want?"

"He... wanted to discuss the conference and some matters connected with my
region.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-185-

That's all."

"Matt, are you telling me the truth?"

"Yes, I am," he lied.

"When can I see you?" His silence prompted her to ask again. "When can I see
you? ....

Matt, are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here. You mustn't come here again. Albert knew when I came back to
my

cottage tonight. He was watching for me. He can see my room from his."

After a brief silence she spoke. "Do you think he saw me last night?"

"I don't think so. It was very late and I doubt that he was still up."

"Then when will we see each other? Can we meet somewhere else?"
"Yes, but we'll need to improvise as opportunities present themselves. I'll contact
you

when I can and you phone me when you're able."

"I will call you after ten o'clock tomorrow night. Bonne nuit, mon amour."

"Goodnight, Monique."

The conference was ending and he had been unable to see her alone since that
night in his

room. Marcel stayed at home every night but two, but even if he had not it would have
made little

difference. Albert extended the meetings each day to seven and eight o'clock at night,
then insisted

they continue over late dinner, a dinner that lasted until well after midnight. Matt also had
the

distinct feeling that he was being watched by Albert during those times that he was in his
room.

He was tempted more than once to throw caution to the wind, but Albert's display of
hatred had

left him with the feeling that the man was capable of anything.

He managed to talk to her three times briefly on the phone during the week, only
to

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-186-

discover how impossible Albert was making it for them to see each other. At one point
without

knowing how right she was, Monique said, "It almost seems as though he is deliberately
doing

everything he can to keep us apart. As though he knows."

Sunday came, their departure day, and Albert had uncharacteristically insisted that
he

would drive Matt and Kurt to the airport where he dropped them off at the entrance.

"I hope you both feel you have benefited from the meetings," Albert said shaking
their

hands. He looked at Matt. "I know some of us benefited more than others."

Kurt and Matt walked inside where they both checked in for their respective
flights. Matt

then excused himself and went to the row of phones at the end of the waiting room. He
dialed and
waited.

"Hello."

"Monique, it's Matt. Can you talk?"

"Oh, Matt, I thought I would not get to talk to you before you left. Yes, I can talk."

"I'll be back in April or May. That meeting is still on and will be held here as
originally

planned."

"That is such a long time. I don't know if I can stand being away from you until
then."

"The way things are developing it's difficult to know what will happen from one
day to the

next, Monique. Possibly we will see each other much sooner."

"It will be the strength I need to keep me going in what has become a very lonely
life," she

said softly. "Je t'adore, mon cher."

"Good-bye, Monique." He turned and walked back toward the waiting Kurt. He
had a

strange feeling of misgiving about the circumstances under which they would meet again.
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-187-

CHAPTER 9

"Stephanie, these are the Antinucci girls I told you about. Claudia, Gina, this is
Mrs.

Miller."

She had been told that they were attractive, but Stephanie was not prepared for the

extraordinary beauty of the two young women that were standing smiling in front of her.
Clear,

fine, aristocratic features, coupled with slender, erect bodies that were in no way
diminished in

perfect shape and form by the modest, crisply clean print house dresses that covered
them. Their

skin was a soft, light beige that needed no cosmetics to accentuate or highlight, but on the

contrary would have only detracted from their natural beauty.

These were the products of an Italian coffee planter and a Watusi princess. The
results of

the mix of the tall, black Watusi beauty and the handsome Mediterranean was inevitable
and

manifested itself in these two lovely mulatto women.

Stephanie knew that Claudia was 20 and Gina was 18, they having been
abandoned by

their mother at the mission station at Kindugu when they were but two and four years old,
where

they were raised and educated. Their father had returned to Italy just before Gina's birth,
leaving

behind the princess who had lived with him as his wife for many years. He had deserted
them after

having sold his plantation, with the false promise that he would send for them after he
had

reestablished himself in Italy. They never heard from him again, nor did they know his

whereabouts.

Mulattoes! Looked upon by whites as "noir" - blacks. Unaccepted, shunned by


blacks,

they were the outcasts of both societies. In an environment that would exit with the
coming of

independence their very lives would be in danger. With no place to go, it would only be a
matter

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-188-

of time before they would disappear in one way or another.

Knowing all of this Stephanie found it impossible to believe that these two lovely,
highly

intelligent women standing before her would not some day find a place of acceptance
while

contributing positively to the world around them.

"I am very pleased to finally meet both of you," Stephanie said, extending her
hand which

they both warmly grasped. "I have heard so much about both of you, all of it good, that I
feel as if

I've known you for a long time. Please, come in."

"And we have heard much about you, Mrs. Miller," Claudia smiled as they
walked into the

living room. "You have brought a great deal of friendship and understanding to everyone,
both

blacks and whites. You cannot imagine how much you are known throughout much of
Kivu
Province and Ruanda-Urundi."

"Well - I." Stephanie was visibly embarrassed. "I'm certain you're exaggerating,
but I thank

you for your kind words, Claudia. If doing things that I enjoy has those results, then I am
being

doubly rewarded."

"Claudia's right you know," Mrs. Hanscom said. "Your home has become a harbor
and

respite for the missionaries who come in from the bush from all over Kivu and Ruanda-
Urundi.

Beyond that, your work with the natives in the hospital and your treatment of all with
whom you

have contact is becoming common knowledge throughout this part of Africa.

"Claudia and Gina will be spending the next three days with Dr. Hanscom and me
on a little

vacation from Kindugu," she continued, "and I thought it would be a good opportunity
for you to

meet each other."

"I'm so happy you stopped by. What will you be doing in the big city of Bukavu?"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-189-

Stephanie said turning to the girls.

"We need shoes and some clothing," Gina spoke up. "Mostly undergarments,
since Mrs.

Simpson, Claudia and I make all of our own dresses." Laura Simpson and her husband
Tom had

headed up their mission station for 23 years, had raised 3 children of their own and seen
them off to

school in The United States. All three were presently missionaries in Borneo.

"Then let me invite the three of you to have lunch with me on one of the days you
are

here."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Mrs. Hanscom said. "As a matter of fact I was going to
ask you

if the girls could spend some time with you tomorrow, if it's no imposition of course. Dr.

Hanscom and I must attend a clinic for budding medical technicians at the native hospital

tomorrow, and I'm afraid there's no way out."

"I'11 be very happy to have them. Our girls will be at the Plourdes home playing
with their

children tomorrow so we'll have a good chance to gossip."

-------------------

As soon as Sebastian had witnessed Stephanie's warm reception of the Antinucci


girls after

she had introduced them to him his gracious demeanor was no different than with any
guest of the

Millers. His constantly passive expression when at work would never betray his feelings,
but

Stephanie was convinced that this little man would be the most tolerant and
understanding of all

of them.

He served a small triangular-shaped variety of cheese and meat sandwiches and


was

pouring the coffee. The view from the terrace just outside the bridge room was
spectacular, with
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-190-

the deep blue lake down below stretching as far north as the eye could see. The steep hills
on both

sides pushed their way up to the jagged peaks on both sides of the lake, seeming to come
together

where they disappeared far to the north. A few puffs of white clouds floated above in an

otherwise clear blue sky. At this altitude the temperature was comfortably warm at
midday even

though so close to the equator. It was in the midst of one of the rainy seasons, and that
night

would bring cooler temperatures meaning a fire in the living room fireplace that would be
just

right for comfort and pleasant atmosphere.

"So tell me what beautiful things you bought this morning," Stephanie asked.

Gina's mouth was full of sandwich, so Claudia responded. "We spent most of the
time

looking. There is so much to see and from which to choose."

Stephanie smiled, thinking about the size of Bukavu, the few shops that were
there and the

limited number of items from which to choose. 'What would they think of the cities and
shops in

Europe and The United States if suddenly they found themselves there? They would be

overwhelmed.'

"But I bought these very practical and sturdy shoes for 325 Francs. They should
last a

long time and protect my feet from cuts, bruises and chiggers. They are more suitable for
work

and tramping through the bush than these that we wear for good."
She held up one foot showing the leather strapped sandals normally worn by all,
with or

without socks. Both she and Gina were wearing white socks with their's on this special
occasion.

She then held up a pair of black molded rubber half boots with thick ribbed soles and
heels. It was
obvious that appearance had been no concern when she had picked them.

"I made the same choice," Gina said holding her's up for display.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-191-

"They certainly are - uh - practical," Stephanie smiled. What else did you buy?"

"That's all we had time for," Gina said. "We spent so much time looking at all of
the

wonderful clothes that when we knew we had to start for your house it was too late to
look any

further. We plan to go back this afternoon and buy underclothes and socks.

"We both know," she continued, "that it would be very nice to have the prettier
shoes and

clothes, but as you said, Mrs. Miller, it would not be practical."

They both glanced at each other and nodded in agreement. It was obvious they
were

helping each other suppress their real desires.

"Well," Stephanie smiled, "let's finish our lunch. Then I'll drive the three of us in
town and

I'll go along while you finish your shopping. I have the afternoon free and I can't think of
a better

way to spend the time."

"Oh that would be wonderful!," Gina half shouted. They were both obviously
very

pleased.

They continued eating while Sebastian refilled their cups.

"Tell me, what are your plans for the future?" Stephanie asked. "Do you both plan
to

continue living at the mission station?"

"More than anything," Claudia replied, "I would like to very soon go to The
United States

for nurse's training, after which I will return to Congo to live and work at the mission
with both

blacks and whites. I finished my high school correspondence course two years ago,
happily with

excellent grades, and I'm still waiting and hoping for the opportunity to go."

"What's keeping you from going, Claudia? Surely the Baptist Council can arrange
it for

you, particularly since you plan to return to live and work at the station."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-192-

"It's not so easy." Claudia looked down at her clasped hands. "The funding and
sponsor

must be made available from outside the financial support provided by contributions to
missionary

work around the world. It is a constant struggle to cover costs of establishing and
maintaining

missionary stations. The amount of money over an extended period of time for me to
become a

nurse, including transportation, would feed and clothe a mission worker and provide
medicine for
a long time.

"Although there is a search for sponsors for both of us through the missionary

headquarters in The United States, we know and understand why we are not one of the
priorities

now with necessary financing needed for other more important work for Christ in the
world."

Stephanie looked at Gina. "Then you would also like to become a nurse, Gina,
and study

in The United States?"

"Oh no! I want only to go to The United States to live and work there, always. I
do not

want to return to Congo and be treated as an outcast. I will surely die, or be killed, if I
return after

independence."

"What kind of work will you do?" Stephanie asked.

Looking at both of them she thought, 'they could easily become the most beautiful
models

to ever appear on the covers of the best fashion magazines.'

"I am very good at housework and have become a first class seamstress with the
training

Mrs. Simpson has given us at the station. Anything so that I can live in The United States.
I will

finish the same correspondence course in three months that Claudia completed and
fortunately I

have the same high grades."

"Well, I hope both of you realize your wishes and dreams. I'm certain your prayers
will be

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-193-

answered. I'll add mine to yours. Now lets finish eating and go complete the shopping."

As the clerk in the 'gros' or wholesale store was completing wrapping the
purchases that

the girls had decided upon, definitely made to last and with no regard for stylishness,
Stephanie

suggested they walk down the main street of Bukavu to the Patisserie for tea and pastries
at one

of the tables on the sidewalk in front of the shop. It was late afternoon now and time for
rest and

refreshments.

As they were slowly walking along looking in the shop windows Claudia and
Gina talked

incessantly about the beautiful clothes on display. Stephanie participated and it only
heightened

their interest, they feeling that if Mrs. Miller felt the same way they did then their
expressed

pleasure at seeing these nice things was not bad.

They stopped to look at the display in the largest and most fashionable women's
boutique

in Bukavu, 'Au Coin de Paris,' and Stephanie watched both their faces light up at the sight
of the

colorful, fashionable shoes and dresses in the windows.

"I never get tired of looking at these beautiful clothes," Gina beamed. "Mrs.
Simpson has

told us that each town and city in The United States, even the smallest ones, have shops
and very

large department stores that have huge supplies in many different sizes. It must be
wonderful.
There is so much. You could spend days just looking."

Her reference to huge supplies in many different sizes was due to the limited
quantity and

sizes that were available in these shops and stores that were so many thousands of miles
from

their source. This applied to foodstuff and staples as well.

"Let's go inside to get a closer look at the other things they have," Stephanie said.
She

hooked her arms through the astonished girls arms and led them inside. They had always
felt they

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-194-

shouldn't and couldn't enter these stores. The wholesale supply houses and warehouse
'magasins',

yes, but not these.

The proprietor of the shop was busy in the back of the store and did not see them
as they

entered. Both Claudia and Gina suddenly became very subdued and shy, a change that
Stephanie

noticed immediately. They obviously felt out of place and uncomfortable.

"Isn't this beautiful?" Stephanie said, reaching and touching a pale peach chiffon
dress on a

rack close to the entrance.

Both of the girls nodded their approval and as Stephanie moved through the store
they

stayed close by her side. At one point Gina was looking at a rack of blouses with her back
to

Claudia and Stephanie, not noticing that they had walked on further leaving her standing
alone. It
was at that moment the proprietor saw Gina. Stephanie was standing with Claudia behind
a rack

of clothes and was obscured from her view.

Pursing her lips in anger and resolve, the owner of the store hurried toward Gina.

"What do you think you are doing in here?" she shouted angrily. "Take your filthy
hands

off those clothes!"

Startled, Gina whirled around to face the approaching woman, a look of terror on
her

face. She quickly glanced around the shop, desperately searching for Stephanie and
Claudia.

"Get out of here immediately, before I call the police and have you arrested!"

It was then that Stephanie and Claudia appeared from behind the rack of clothes
just

behind and to the woman's left. Gina was backing away as if preparing to bolt and run
and her

look at the two of them drew the store owner's attention to them as well.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-195-

"Ah, bon jour Madame Miller," she smiled broadly, "I did not see you come in."
She

glanced curiously at Claudia. "Excuse me for a moment while I tend to this matter, then I
will be

right with you."

As she turned to confront Gina again Stephanie stepped in between them facing
the

woman.
"Madame de Larosiere," Stephanie said in obvious suppressed anger, "if she is not

welcome in your shop then neither am I."

"These - uh - people are with you, Madame? I did not know. Servants brought
along to

help are always welcome with such a good customer as you. Forgive me, I..."

"They are not servants," Stephanie interrupted. "They are very good friends of
mine that

are visiting with me, and who up to this moment were prepared to make some sizable
purchases

in your shop. Since I am responsible for bringing them in here," she turned to the girls,
"then I

now ask that they not buy here, and that we leave."

The wide-eyed girls quickly nodded in agreement.

Madame de Larosiere's attitude changed quickly from being apologetic to


haughty, a

posture that reminded Stephanie of the Countess' royal background and the reputation
that many

of the residents of Bukavu had throughout the Congo of being snobs.

"That is for them to decide. The success or failure of my business does not depend
upon

whether these two 'noirs' buy from me or not. They should know their place and it is
definitely not

in my shop. Moreover, Madame Miller, I suggest that if you wish to maintain a


relationship with

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-196-
the proper elements of the European community that you become more selective in your
choice of

'friends'."

"I will determine who will and who will not qualify as my friends," Stephanie
responded in

measured tones that clearly conveyed her disgust. "I can assure you that you would never
qualify.

In so far as the other 'proper elements', I would hope you are one of a kind, but if you are
not,

then the others have no place in my life as well. Come on girls, let's go spend our money

elsewhere."

Grabbing the girl's hands she started for the entrance.

"You are making a big mistake by turning your back on us, Madame Miller. You
may

some day turn to us for help and we will not be there. Then see what the friendship for

'Macaques'," and she spit the despised, degrading word for blacks out bitterly, "will mean
to you."

Stephanie stopped dead in her tracks and wheeled around to once again face her

adversary.

"Your reference to 'us' is lost on me. I cannot believe there are many more like
you

around. But no matter how many there are, you can rest assured they will never have to
concern

themselves with me or my family." She started to turn away, then looked back. "Actually,
I feel

sorry for you and yours. In your frustrated worlds your major concern is with station in
life, and

to perpetuate your line of reasoning you must relegate others to lower levels than you,
even
though it only exists in your small minds. I'll take my chances with people whose main
concern is

happiness through love and understanding of others, no matter what their origin or
circumstance.

Good day, Madame. You need not concern yourself about our entering your shop ever
again."

------------------------

Immediately following the conclusion of the meeting in Brussels in January a


startling

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-197-

announcement was made by the participating Congolese and Belgian leaders. The
Congolese

would receive their independence on June 30th, five months later. The Colons were
shocked, in

spite of all previous signs having indicated that this was the direction in which the
Belgian

government was being forced by external and internal pressures.

The borders of the new country, borders that had been created by the white man,
would

be the same, with the United Nations Trust Territory of Ruanda-Urundi to receive their

independence separately in the immediate future. To those who knew Africa it was

incomprehensible that the myriad of tribes within and spilling over these boundaries into
adjacent

countries, could change the centuries old customs of tribal domain and territorial control,
and that

the incessant warring among the tribes that had been a way of life since time immemorial
could be
mandated away and forgotten at the stroke of midnight on June 30, 1960.

An influx of Belgian government dignitaries began, all professing to be


investigating the

situation first hand in order to come up with solutions that would satisfy blacks and
whites alike.

After selected visits in the more populated, better developed centers, most of the visits
totaling no

more than a few hours in each place, they would come away professing to be experts on

Congolese affairs and the complex problems that existed there. The pronouncements
made were

always grandiose in character but with no real substance or solutions, short or long range.

It was quite easy to determine when one of these Belgian government officials
had just

visited or was about to visit an area. The morning of the day of the visit the paved streets
over

which the dignitaries would be driving and the buildings lining the route would be
covered with

the vilest and most foul names and words in both French and Flemish placed there by
whites in

reference to the visitors.

They would be greeted by jeers, spat upon and pelted with garbage. Posters would be
plastered

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-198-

on walls and leaflets distributed and then showered on the unwelcome guests. The
messages were

clear:

RIEN - RIEN - RIEN


INDEPENDANCE
LE 30 JUIN 1960
D'ACCORD. La situation n'en sers que plus claire.
Nous nous adressons au gouvernement Belge responsable.
A une situation nouvelle doivent correspondre des
garanties nouvelles.
Que propose le gouvernement Belge jusqu'a present.
RIEN
PRIVES
Le gouvernement Belge est responsable des capitaux
assurant votre pension.
Qu'avez-vous comme garantie de paiement?
RIEN
AGENTS DES SERVICES PUBLICS ET DES PARASTATAUX
Malgre' les promesses, qu'avez-vous de concret comme
arrétés d'exécution.
RIEN
ENSEIGNANTS
Le Ministre BUISSERET vous a promis l'équivalence.
Qu'avez-vous obtenu?
RIEN
Considérés comme parastataux, on vous ecarte de la
commission qui discute des problemes ces agents.
VOUS TOUS
Que vaudra votre pouvoir d'achat?
CONTRIBUABLES
Contribuables, qu'avez-vous obtenu, UN PETIT RIEN...
Deux milliards d'impôts nouveaux a payer. Et aprés?
Pourrez-vous lee payer? Quels engagements, le gouvern-
ement Belge a-t-il pris a l'egard de vos biens, quelle
garantie de sécurite' personnelle vous assure-t-il?
A CE JOUR RIEN - RIEN - RIEN
Le gouvernement Belge et lui seul a des obligations
impérieuses et urgentes envers vous. Comprenez-vous
qu'il faut nous serrer les coudes pour qu'il les
respecte. Ne dispersons pas nos efforts. Unissons-les.
TOUS SOLIDAIRES
C'est le moment d'agir ou jamais.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-199-

The promises and guaranties that were being given to all sectors were not to be
believed!

Already they were being broken or not kept. All they would be given for their toil and
generations of hardship

was RIEN -- NOTHING!

The Colons were becoming more desperate and frustrated as the hopelessness of
their

situation began to evolve. The exodus that had started some weeks before grew in
intensity as

more and more of them sent their families to Belgium for safety. The attacks on whites
and blacks

alike was increasing. Many were attempting to immigrate to Australia, Rhodesia, South
Africa,

The United States, anywhere that offered refuge and hope for a future.

The resistance to accepting returning Colons in Belgium was increasing as the


numbers

now rose dramatically. This rejection was not supported by the Belgian government, in
fact it was

condemned, but the refusal by the public to welcome their countrymen with open arms
was

debilitating and traumatic for these people who felt they had already been betrayed and
deserted.

The men who were staying behind to continue their work held out the hope that in
at least

maintaining their position, by some miracle or last minute change in the timetable they
might

eventually be able to bring their families back and continue as before.

There were various attempts underway by certain groups of whites made up of


both

Colons and Belgian businessmen to provide both financial and political support to certain
of the

black politicians that they felt could be put in power and then controlled and manipulated
to their
advantage. Most of these groups were made up of people who had derived their income
and

fortunes from ventures in the Congo. Ventures that would almost certainly be lost with
the

granting of independence.

A few of the natives chosen for support by these influential, wealthy whites were
honest

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-200-

and sincerely felt that with the departure of the white man and his expertise and guidance,
disaster

would result. But the majority really did not understand what was to occur at all, only
knowing

that they were now seemingly being looked upon as equals and treated favorably by their

masters in return for some future favors to be granted. Or they were simply corrupt,
unscrupulous

parasites found in every society.

At the insistence of friends and associates Matt had bought the two l 7mm
automatic

pistols. One was kept in Stephanie's night stand drawer next to the bed and the other Matt

had put in the hidden compartment in the dashboard of his car to the left of the steering
column.

The attacks on whites were no longer being considered isolated incidents. They
quite often

resulted from large gatherings of blacks being brought together to listen to the haranguing
of the

now much traveled black nationalists. More often than not these crowds would end up
looting
and attacking blacks and whites alike. It was an opportunity to settle old scores or simply
to

perpetuate tribal feuds.

Patrice Lumumba, the postal clerk from Stanleyville, seemed to have the greatest
as well

as the most radical following. He could bring a crowd to frenzy with his highly emotional

speeches, particularly when comparing the blacks lot to that of the whites. Then would
come the

promises. Promises to provide the same things that the white man had. No more 'Bwana'
or

Master to treat them like dogs. No more being called 'garcon' - boy, or yelled at and
belittled with

the name 'planton' - orderly! No more being the slave to serve the 'Blanc' and his every
desire.

With a good part of the rest of Africa either receiving or being promised to receive

independence it was inevitable that it would also happen in Congo, but it was generally
accepted

that there was no one who was schooled or prepared to govern. Black civil servants were
lower

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-201-

level clerks with Belgians having held the more responsible positions. This was the case
at almost

every level of the civil service. There were some Belgians who were sincerely devoting
their time

and effort to rectifying this, but it would take years, perhaps generations, to bring any
semblance

of ability to govern themselves.

In and around Bukavu there was the occasional beating or killing just as it was
occurring

elsewhere in Congo. Matt had experienced large rocks being dropped on the roof of his
car as he

negotiated the mountain roads, something that had been unheard of in the past.

To add to it all a war broke out in nearby Ruanda-Urundi between the tall stately
Watusi

and the smaller Bahutu. The latter, although making up 90% of the population, were
traditionally

subservient to their lords and masters the Watusi. The killing and destruction was
widespread

throughout the countryside just across the river from Bukavu.

The Watusi had forced the Bahutu into serfdom, relegating them to tending their
special

breed of long-horned cattle. Like the Masai of East Africa the Watusi believed that by
drinking

the blood of these cattle mixed with their milk it provided them their superior height and

intelligence. For weeks now the attacks and killings had been an almost daily occurrence.
The

Force Publique, the military policemen made up of Congolese officered by Belgians, had
it's hands

full trying to put down the uprising. The Bahutu had switched to attacking and killing the
Watusi

at night while they slept.

It became necessary to obtain special passes giving authorization to travel in


certain parts

of Ruanda-Urundi where this tribal warfare was being carried on. Matt had to obtain
these passes

and continue renewing them in order to cover that part of his territory.

The killings had already struck the shocked Hanscoms in early January. The
native

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-202-

minister who headed their largest congregation in Bukavu's native quarter was found
along the

lake path that led to his home from the church. He had been hacked to death with a
machete, his

testicles and penis severed and gone, taken to be eaten in the belief that it would increase
virility.

The pastor was known to be resisting threats and pressure to turn his church and it's large

congregation into a place for political gatherings to further the cause of certain black
politicians,

all in the name of "Uhuru" - "Independence"!

"Here's a letter from Pastor Deinhardt," Stephanie said looking up from the
evening mail

they had just picked up at the post office. "I wonder if there's any news about the
Antinucci girls?

Remember, I wrote him and Mother with the details and information supplied by Dr. and
Mrs.

Hanscom about finding them sponsors."

She slipped her finger through the flap of the envelope and ripped it open as Matt

continued to drive down the hill toward their house.

"Dear Stephanie, Matt and girls," she read aloud. "Hope this letter finds all of you
in good

health and happy. Your letters are always full of interesting news that keeps us well
informed

about all of you and what is happening in the fascinating 'other' world in which you live.
Everyone
here is fine and they all send their love and best wishes. We are deep into Lent as you
well know

and look to Easter with the sadness ending in joy that it always brings.

"Good news with regard to the Antinucci girls!" Stephanie glanced at Mitch, then
back to

the letter in her hands. "After having put out the information you sent in our bulletins and
by word

of mouth the response was overwhelming. Gods loving hand was present in the heartfelt
warmth

that has come forth from so many wanting to help these two lovely children. Or should I
say

young women?

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-203-

"Oh, Matt, this is wonderful!" Stephanie half-shouted.

"We have already started the process of screening and interviews," she continued
reading,

"and we expect to have the Committee prepared to make recommendations to the Council
in 10

to 14 days. It would seem there is no doubt that Claudia and Gina will have their
sponsors. The

only thing remaining to be accomplished is determining which of the many applicants are
best

suited, both financially and morally, to take them into their lives. I can tell you it will be
tough

making the selection because there are so many wonderful people who have applied.

"Well I will close for now. I would imagine the next time I write I will be
informing you

who has been chosen, at which time I will forward the completed documents that you
sent. Take

good care of each other and know that you are all in our prayers. Warmest love, Paul
Deinhardt."

"You should feel so good about this, Stephanie. You've given those girls a new
lease on

life," Matt said as they pulled into the driveway.

"It's not me - really, but those people back home, and Pastor Deinhardt. All I did
was

make them aware of the need to help them." She paused. "There are so many more like
them. I'm

afraid to think of what's going to happen to them after independence."

------------

The documents arrived from Pastor Deinhardt three weeks after the receipt of his
first

letter. Stephanie, Laura and Tom Simpson, Claudia and Gina presented themselves to the
local

authorities to begin the process of arranging exit visaes, immigration documentation and
the many

formalities needing to be completed before the girls could depart for the U.S.A.

Four more weeks went by with news about their applications expected at any
moment.

There was no reason to believe that they would be refused, but with the mounting
anxieties and

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-204-

confusion in the country that existed, no one was ever certain of the outcome of any
matter

brought before a government agency.


Stephanie pulled up into their driveway behind a car that she recognized as the
Simpsons.

She was returning from her morning at the native hospital, not expecting anyone to come
calling

today. She usually knew in advance when someone would be coming in from the bush to
visit.

Walking into the kitchenette next to the kitchen she came upon Tom Simpson
sipping a

cup of coffee and talking to Sebastian. He turned to her as she walked through the door.

"Hello, Stephanie. I hope you don't mind my just barging in and taking over.
Sebastian can

vouch for me. I have not put anything in my pockets and I'm not trying to steal your
excellent

help."

In his mid-forties, Tom Simpson was not what one would normally think a
missionary

should look like, nor did he dress in the usual manner. Both Stephanie and Matt had made
these

observations to each other after their first meeting with him and Laura some months
before. They

were to find out later that Tom came from a very wealthy family in Massachusetts who
had

expected him to take up the reigns of their business, but upon graduation from Harvard
Business

School he had promptly informed them that he was going to marry Laura Stevens, a girl
he had

met while at reserve Army training one summer in Illinois. The daughter of Baptist
missionaries,

they had accepted him into their home. Her family had had a profound affect on him and
his
outlook, culminating in their marriage after his graduation.

"Hello, Tom," Stephanie smiled, leaning forward to accept the light kiss on her
cheek. "It's

good to see you. What brings you to our fair city?"

"I dropped off our reserve generator at the garage for it's periodic maintenance
and I

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-205-

thought I'd stop by to see if there is any further news about the girl's applications."

"Matt called them yesterday just before leaving on his trip. He's in Bunia this
week. They

indicated that everything had been forwarded to Leopoldville three weeks ago. They'l1
contact us

the moment they have word. We're all very much concerned it will drag out so long that it
won't

be resolved before independence. With the upheaval that will take place it's hard to tell
when it

will go through, if ever. God help them, along with all of the others, if that happens."

"I'm sure God will help them, Stephanie, whether before or after independence.
What you

are trying to do is wonderful and we're all so grateful, no matter how it turns out."

"It's a labor of love. They are such lovely girls." Stephanie turned toward
Sebastian who

was preparing lunch in the kitchen. "Sebastian. would you please prepare enough for
Bwana

Simpson and fix another place at the table?" Swahili now came very fluently and easily to
her.

"Ndiyo, Mandami."
"Stephanie, it's amazing how you've picked up both Swahili and French. Thank
you for the
invitation."

"You're welcome any time, Tom, and thank you for the compliment. Being forced
to

speak them plus having the desire makes just about anything possible, even for me. It
opens up

a lot of doors that would otherwise be closed. How long will you be staying in town?"

"I had planned to go back this afternoon but the generator won't be finished until

sometime tomorrow. The Hanscoms are putting me up for the night. I understand they
have

invited you and the children to dinner this evening."

"Yes. When Matt is traveling, which is most of the time, they are so kind to have
us. I'm

beginning to feel embarrassed by the imposition."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-206-

"Don't you believe it. They love having you and the girls with them."

------------

Tom gazed at Stephanie across the dinner table recalling the easy, relaxed
conversation

they had had over lunch that day. Now she was listening intently to Dr. Hanscom talking
to the

girls about his early days in Africa. He couldn't remember when he had felt so drawn to
anyone as

he to her.

'Or was it, desire?' he thought. 'If I'm honest with myself I'm certain I would admit
that this
lovely woman's sincere, warm personality has aroused feelings in me I thought were lost
forever.'

"Isn't that so, Tom?"

Dr. Hanscom's addressing him brought him back to the moment. "I'm sorry,
Doctor. I

missed your question."

"I said that it's a shame that when Ruanda was part of German East Africa prior to
World

War I the German's didn't construct more roads. They did it so well that those same roads
exist

today, over a half century later, in as good a condition as they were then, while other
roads have

disappeared or are in terrible shape."

"Absolutely right, Doctor Hanscom. Their construction, buildings, roads, bridges,


still stand

in excellent condition as monuments to their engineering and work capabilities. They lost
it all to

the Allies at the end of the first world war."

"Well, girls," Stephanie smiled, "we must take the road home. Once again I thank
both of

you, and especially you, Mrs. Hanscom, for such a delicious meal. We have fallen way
behind in

returning your kindness. I'm afraid Matt's constant traveling restricts our time."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-207-

"Don't you ever think you must repay us in any way," Mrs. Hanscom said. "We
love

having you and the girls as often as possible."


"I'll see you home, Stephanie," Tom said rising from the table. "It will save Dr.
Hanscom

having to do it."

"I don't mind at all, Tom." Dr. Hanscom said. "It's just a short drive up around the
hill to

their house."

"I insist," Tom said. "Anyway, I need to move around a little after having stuffed
myself

with all that good food."

Tom had very closely inspected the perimeter windows and doors of the house
and was

now completing the inspection of each room upstairs and down. He walked to the main
entrance

and turned to face Stephanie with the three girls at her side. He knelt down and kissed
each girl

on the cheek.

"You lovely women take good care of your Mommy." He stood up and looked at

Stephanie. "She's something special."

Stephanie smiled, wondering how it was that up to this day's visit she had not
noticed how

strikingly handsome this tall, dark man was. His smooth, controlled manner had always
been

evident.

"Thank-you, kind sir. You know you are always welcome. We had a lovely day,
didn't we

girls?"

All three sleepily nodded in agreement.

"Would you like coffee, Tom?"


F. William Jung/KATANGA
-208-

"I would very much, but I'd better get back. I know Doctor and Mrs. Hanscom
retire early

and I don't want to disturb them. Thanks for the offer. I'll take a rain check if I can."

Taking her hand in his he squeezed it lightly and leaning forward kissed her on
the cheek,

then stepped back still holding her hand, reluctant to give up the feeling of her hand in
his. They

looked deep into each other's eyes for an instant as if searching to discover how the other
felt. He

released her hand and reaching behind him opened the door.

"I may use your invitation as an excuse to come to Bukavu for every little reason I
can

think of. Again, I enjoyed the day and being with you and the girls, very much. Good-
bye,

Stephanie. I'll look forward to next time."

He closed the door behind him.

'And so will I, Tom,' she thought, 'so will I.'

---------------------

Stephanie and Matt were wakened by the phone ringing. Matt reached over and
snapped

on the light, automatically glancing at his watch.

"Two thirty! Who could be calling at this hour?"

Stephanie sat upright in bed as Matt rolled over on his side and picked up the
phone.

"Hello. Yes. Oh, Doctor Hanscom. What's wrong?" There was a pause. Glancing
at

Stephanie he sat up quickly. "We'll be there right away. We must bring the girls with us
since

there's no one here to watch them. Good-bye, Doctor."

He got out of bed quickly. "Doctor Hanscom seemed really upset. Said it was
about Peter

and Florence. He wouldn't, or couldn't talk about it over the phone. Wants us to come to
their

house. I thought I heard Mrs. Hanscom crying in the background."

As they pulled up in front of the Hanscoms it seemed as though every light in


their house

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-209-

was on. Stephanie and Matt had to wake the girls and he carried Jenny quickly up the
steps with

Stephanie following close behind with the half-asleep Betsy and Lisa. He knocked on the
door

and it was opened almost immediately by a red-eyed, distraught looking Doctor


Hanscom. Mrs.

Hanscom was no where to be seen.

The doctor raised his arms in a gesture of despair and stepped toward them, his
lips

quivering and tears beginning to stream down his face. He put his arms on Stephanie and
Matt's

shoulders and began to sob uncontrollably.

"Children, our .., our beloved.. Peter and... uh... Florence are... gone."

Matt and Stephanie looked at each other in alarm and then both placed their arms
around
him.

"Gone? What do you mean gone?" Matt asked.

"Dead!" the doctor said, now breaking down completely.

They helped him to a chair and he slumped down into it, his face buried in his
hands.

"Dead!" - my son and our beloved Florence - dead!"

Strangely, Stephanie and Matt remained calmly in control of their emotions,


somehow

recognizing the need to maintain their composure to comfort and help the Hanscoms even
though

their loss was also great.

"Where is Mrs. Hanscom?" Stephanie asked. She took the girls to the nearby
couch where

they curled up and were quickly fast asleep again.

"I made her rest. She's in the bed..."

"No, I'm here, Peter."

They turned to see her standing in her robe in the doorway, face puffed and red
from

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-210-

crying.

"Oh, Stephanie," she sobbed, "the Lord has taken them from us."

Stephanie hurried to her and embraced her. "Mrs. Hanscom, I don't know what to
say. We
can't believe what you're telling us. How did you get this news? Who told you? There
must be

some mistake."
Stephanie helped Mrs. Hanscom to a chair. By this time the doctor had regained
control of

himself and was wiping his eyes.

"I'm afraid it's not a mistake," he said. "About two hours ago we received a phone
call

from Doctor John from Uganda. All of the missionaries and their families from the
station are

there." His mouth quivered and he waited until he was in control of himself again. "They
have our

poor hurt children with them, and .... and they are dead!" He covered his face with his

handkerchief as Matt leaned down to comfort him. Pulling the handkerchief from his face
and

with forced control he continued. "I'm all right now. Mother and I must be strong. We
know our

babies were."

His reference to a full grown man and woman in their thirties as being babies
struck Matt

as odd. "Then who is at the station if all of your people have left?"

"No one," Mrs. Hanscom answered tearfully."

"No one except the heathen troublemakers and the poor misguided souls who are
now

under their control," Doctor Hanscom said bitterly. He looked up at them. "I'm sorry I
troubled

you both, but we needed someone here with us. They loved both of you so much."

"And we loved them," Stephanie said.

Matt noticed a slight break in her voice, the full reality of what had happened
beginning to

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-211-

take hold.

"We'll be all right now," Mrs. Hanscom said. "You take those sleepy little girls
home and

put them back in their beds."

"Yes," the doctor agreed, "You're coming has helped considerably. We'll see you in
the

morning. We have much work to do in trying to salvage what's left. Also... we must go to

Uganda."

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Matt asked.

"Yes - yes! You go home now. Thank you very much."

After having wakened the children they kissed Mrs. Hanscom and she hugged and
kissed

the girls. Doctor Hanscom followed them out to the porch.

"Thank you again," he said kissing the children. "We love you all very much."

As they started down the steps the doctor called after them. "Matt!"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"You didn't ask me what happened up there on the station. I thank you for that."

"We felt it wasn't the appropriate time."

"They burned the school and churches. Even wrecked the hospital and destroyed
all of the

equipment. Many of our missionaries were attacked and are hurt, fortunately none too
seriously,

except for our beloved children."

"But why?" Stephanie asked. "Everything was there to benefit them. All those
years of
work by so many people who have wanted to do nothing more than aid and help them,
especially

you and Mrs. Hanscom."

"They are like children. Unfortunately they are now listening to those who will
eventually

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-212-

destroy them just for personal gain."

"It must be painful for you to discuss it," Matt said. We'll see you tomorrow.
Goodnight,

Doctor."

As they turned to go the doctor spoke with a bitterness that was entirely unlike
him.

They..., they stoned our beloved children to death! Then they butchered them with
machetes!"

---------------------

"This is Tom Simpson, Stephanie. How are you?"

It had been two weeks since he had last been to Bukavu, ending with his good-bye
that had

provoked surprising emotions in her. She had thought about him often since then.

"I'm fine, Tom." She felt a rush of excitement at the sound of his voice. "It's so
nice to

hear from you. Where are you?"

"I'm right here in Bukavu. I volunteered to pick up the Dooleys tomorrow in


Usumbura.

They're coming back from home leave. You see! I promised I would think of every reason

possible to come to Bukavu. With Dr. and Mrs. Hanscom in Uganda I'm staying alone at
their
house tonight. I was wondering if you and Matt would join me for dinner at the Bodega
tonight."

"As usual, Tom, Matt is traveling this week and Sebastian took a day's vacation.
There's

no way I can get in touch with him to come stay with the girls so we're roughing it
tonight

because Mrs. Miller, me, is doing the cooking." She hesitated, then said, "Tom, why don't
you

come here for dinner. It makes no sense for you to eat alone."

"No, Stephanie. I don't want to impose upon you. I thought I might at least pay
back in

part the many kindnesses you people have extended and this only adds to the imbalance."

"Nonsense," Stephanie said firmly. "We're not keeping score. The girls and I
would be

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-213-

delighted to have you. I won't listen to any more objections. We'll see you here at say,
seven

o'clock."

When Tom arrived the girls had already eaten. They said goodnight and then
went

upstairs to their bedrooms to study and play prior to lights out at nine o'clock.

Stephanie and Tom were finishing their 'mousse au chocolat' while sipping the
remaining

Beaujolais Village Stephanie had provided with dinner. Tom had surprised her by
accepting the

wine in spite of the prohibition of alcoholic beverages by his religious denomination. She
had also
noticed during his previous visits that had accepted coffee.

"The dinner was absolutely delicious. It Puts the Bodega to shame."

"I don't get much practice anymore," Stephanie smiled, "and I'm always a little
leery about

how it will turn out. You're very kind to say so, even if you don't mean it, and if you
don't, don't

say another word."

As she stood he did as well. She picked up some of the plates and he followed her
lead.

"No, Tom, I'll do this. You put another log on the fire. I'll just carry these to the
kitchen

and pour coffee. We can have it in the living room where its more comfortable."

"Ndiyo, Mandami! Mazuri kabisa," he acknowledged in Swahili.

He walked to the living room and placed a log in the large stone fireplace. The
warmth

of the crackling fire and it's lights that danced across the ceiling and walls added to an
atmosphere

already enhanced by the shimmering lights of the town center reflecting off the lagoon
below.

He turned and stood with his back to the fireplace, enjoying the warmth of the fire and
the

growing feeling of desire welling up inside him.

'Does she feel even a little as I do?' he wondered. 'God help me control and
suppress my

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-214-

feelings.' But even as he thought it he knew nothing would prevent him from expressing
himself to
her one way or another.

Stephanie walked into the room with a small tray holding a silver pot full of
coffee, cups,

two large brandy snifters and a bottle of Remy Martin cognac.

"Since you surprised me and tested the wine I thought you might not pass up the
cognac

as well." She placed the tray on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

"My background and upbringing makes it hard for me to refuse them all of the
time. There

are some things in our beliefs that I can't fully come to grips with, even after all these
years. But I

try to confine my 'transgressions' to things I feel won't harm anyone."

He walked to the tray and poured just enough cognac to cover the bottom of the
glasses

while Stephanie poured the coffee. They sat down beside each other on the sofa, each
with coffee

in their hands.

"Please don't be offended, Tom, and you certainly need not answer if I'm out of
line, but

you mention your background. Knowing of your family and the course you seemingly
had set for

yourself in education, was your and Laura's commitment to missionary work so strong
that you

could not stay with the business and capitalize on the financial strength you would have
had, and

which would allow you both to support your choice of religious causes?"

"I don't mind your asking, and for someone as discerning as you it's a logical
question."

He put down his coffee and reached for the cognac. "I'm not going to use the crutch of the
son

wronged by a Father who was domineering and who demanded that I follow in his
footsteps, etc.,

etc., because it's not true. He and my Mother were very loving and understanding, almost
too

condescending. My Father spent most of his free time with my Mother and me.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-215-

"When I met Laura I was at an age when any cause that was noble appealed to the

young person who had everything that financial wealth represented and who had never
known

deprivation, hunger and want.

"I wasn't a rebel. At least I don't perceive myself as having been one. I announced
to my

parents that I was marrying Laura and would enter into training that would prepare me
for

missionary work. I felt that I could contribute more to mankind in that fashion. I also
reasoned

that my father had competent people around him who could ensure continuity of good

management in his company.

"He was deeply hurt. I thought I knew how much at the time but I began to realize
just

how much it had devastated him as the years passed, particularly when we have seen so
little of

them over the years, being so many thousands of miles away. My mother was also hurt by
my

decision and our being separated these many long years has really been very hard on her.
You see,
I'm the only child."

"How are they doing now?"

"Under the circumstances fairly well. My father's business has continued to grow
and

prosper. It has become a very large multinational company. Now, of course, they have the
added

concern of Congo's coming independence and how it may affect us. They are certainly
not blind to

the possible dangers, particularly after what happened to the Hanscoms."

He leaned back on the sofa and contemplated the flames reaching to escape up
through the
chimney.

"Because they are well up in years now I've recently started to think more often
about

being with them. Never any animosity on their part, always having their understanding,
while all

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-216-

these years they have endured the agony of being apart. And then there were the years
they

couldn't enjoy seeing their grandchildren grow up. They can't even see them now except
every

five years when they are on home leave from Borneo."

"What wonderful people they must be," Stephanie said softly, gazing into the
fireplace. "I

can see how the product of their love and kindness has manifested itself in you."

"Don't you be fooled," he laughed, turning toward her. "You don't know what evil
lurks in

the hearts of men." He became serious again. "I have been torn between continuing in our
present

work and returning to the USA. for quite some time now. The growing problems
connected with

self-determination of the natives in all aspects of their lives, including religious beliefs,
makes me

wonder if, God forgive me, it is just fruitless effort to keep at it. This big, mysterious
thing called

independence that they really don't fully understand isn't helping matters much."

Stephanie noticed that with the exception of his referring to her when they first
met,

Laura's name nor any role she had played or was playing in his life had not been
mentioned. She

felt it best not to pursue that part of his life. Or was it that in discussing her it would spoil
their

mood. A mood that was developing into an affection for this man that made her feel a
warmth, a

desire that she thought she could feel for no other man but Matt. 'Strange,' she thought, 'I
don't

feel that I'm being unfaithful at all.'

He stood and walked to the large windows that faced the lagoon below and the
lights on

the opposite side. With his back to her he spoke. "Stephanie, I want more than anything
else to

make certain that what I'm about to say is not misinterpreted because of my clumsiness
and

inability to express myself."

Stephanie remained seated as he turned to face her.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-217-
"My life with Laura has been..., rewarding. With our children now grown and
living away

from us the focus has been entirely on mission work. We work well together and we are
both

satisfied with the amount of work we accomplish. But somehow I, and I believe Laura
feels

exactly the same, have felt for some years now that anything other than accomplishing
our work

together was not necessary and in fact not desirable. I had resigned myself to this for the
rest of

my life, immersing myself in my work with the belief that it was all I would ever need or
want.

That is until recently."

He walked to the sofa and sat down facing her.

"You must know by the way I have been acting, my weak excuses to come here,
that my

thoughts of you go well beyond friendship."

"Tom, I ..."

"Please let me finish or I'll never get up the courage again. Then you can throw
me out, or

whatever, and I'll understand. But at least I won't wonder forever if I passed up an
opportunity to

express how very special you have become to me."

Stephanie remained silent, looking at the handsome face of this intensely serious
man.

"It has been a long time since I have spent a waking minute without thinking of
you. I

know it is affecting my work and actions, but it is such a wonderful feeling, one I thought
I could
never have, one I really did not know existed to the extent it does.

"You have never given me cause to think you feel even partially the same, but
Stephanie, I

love you more than you can imagine."

He reached for her hand and took it in his. She made no move to withdraw it.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-218-

"Just touching your hand or a kiss on the cheek has left me in a condition of
euphoria. I

watch your every move and listen to every word you speak, whether it's to me or not. All
of this

in such a manner that I know it must be obvious to everyone in sight. I also have a
confession to

make. 1 knew Matt was traveling. The Hanscoms told me. Please forgive me for the
deception."

He released her hand and slowly stood up. Looking down at her upturned face he
said,

"Now that I have made a complete ass of myself you can tell me to leave. But what you
must

believe is that what I feel for you is a completely honorable thing for which I have
absolutely no

feelings of guilt, nor do I consider it to be in any way degrading or undignified. On the


contrary it

is a love of the most wonderful kind imaginable, and more." He fell silent, continuing to
look

down at her.

Stephanie stood up and as she did it placed her very close to him. She continued
to look
deep into his eyes as he leaned forward and kissed her. He pulled her close and she
responded,

putting her arms around his neck. It was a soft, lingering kiss, tentative at first, then the
strength

of their embrace and kiss increased.

Stephanie's desire for this beautiful man consumed her. It was obvious that he
wanted her

as well, not only by what he had said but by the tender way he held and kissed her. She
pulled her

arms from around him and reached for his hand. Slowly backing away she turned and led
him to

the foyer and up the winding stairs to the bedroom above, quietly closing the door behind
them.

Just before dawn he left the house and slowly drove down around the hill to the
empty

Hanscom's house. Stephanie stood at the bedroom terrace above watching the lights of
the car

disappear below.

In the weeks following the night she and Tom first made love he visited Bukavu at
every

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-219-

opportunity and Stephanie encouraged these encounters in spite of the risk. One of the
visits was

for the purpose of picking up the documents of approval and exit visaes for Gina and
Claudia

Antinucci. These, along with the documents now in their possession from America, meant
they

now only needed to choose a departure date, arrange for receipt of funds from The
United States
and book passage.

Stephanie vowed to do everything possible to keep her relationship and marriage


with

Matt intact, but she was also finding it impossible to give up Tom and their discreetly
planned

encounters, always when Matt was traveling. On a few occasions she wondered what it
would

lead to, but then she would quickly erase the thought from her mind, only knowing that
for now

she looked forward to his next visit the moment he had left her.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-220-

CHAPTER 10

As June 30th, the day of independence drew closer the flow of Europeans leaving
Congo

dramatically increased. The majority leaving were still women and children, but more
men began

to go with their families or to join those that had already left. Those that stayed behind
held out

the hope that with independence little would change, or that at the last minute something
would

happen to prevent it from taking place. Surely, they reasoned, the rest of the world will
come to

it's senses.

The new country was to be called Republic of the Congo. It's first Prime Minister
would

be the fiery radical, Patrice Lumumba, who wanted a strong central government. An
uneasy
alliance was formed between him and Joseph Kasavubu, the calm, conservative President
who

favored a loose confederation of the provinces. Lumumba made it abundantly clear that
after

independence day the Belgians must leave.

Moise Tshombe, the black merchant from Elisabethville, Katanga province was

to be premier of his Province and he openly declared Lumumba his avowed enemy,
stating that

Lumumba and his leftist ways were an abomination to the capitalist establishment in
Katanga and

those Belgian economic interests supporting it. Mineral rich Katanga represented almost
the entire

economic base of the Congo.

June 30th was declared a holiday and day of celebration. Those Europeans who
were

remaining in Congo were making plans to stay indoors all that day to avoid
confrontations or

problems from overzealous, celebrating blacks. There was a run on purchases of picture
puzzles,

model kits, games, anything that could be used to pass the time and to keep their minds
busy and

off what was going on outside.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-221-

Matt had attempted to receive some guidance from the U.S. Embassy in
Leopoldville and

the Consulate in Elisabethville but quickly found that their knowledge and advice
revealed they

were considerably less informed than he was. He had decided to stay close to home
during the

period immediately before, during and after independence day. In the event he needed to
get his

family out quickly he felt the best plan would be to drive to Usumbura in Ruanda-Urundi
where

he could obtain the assistance of Andre' Andreadis, his dealer there who had also become
a very

close friend.

One thing that concerned him, however, was that the four hour drive down the
escarpment

and through the Ruzizi Valley was almost entirely through Congo territory with only the
last few

kilometers being in Ruanda-Urundi before reaching Usumbura. It being a principal route


he could

not see how it would remain open for long if troubles started. The same problem existed
should

they decide to take the road north to Goma in order to cross over into Uganda to the
adjacent

town of Kisenyi. The entire road was inside Congo. Even if they were able to go the
distance in

either direction there was no guaranty that they would be allowed to cross the frontier,

particularly since they were both major crossing points.

The quickest route out of Congo from Bukavu was over the little bridge at the
eastern

edge of town that crossed the Ruzizi River separating Congo and Ruanda-Urundi. The
bridge was

only a few minutes drive from the Miller's house, but in going that way it meant they
would be

entering a country where speculation was running high as to whether they would follow
the
Congo's lead where any troubles were concerned. Moreover, if they used this shorter
route out of

Congo it would mean a long, tedious drive east and then northeast through mountainous
country

right through the restricted areas being torn apart by the Bahutu-Watusi war. If the
troubles

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-222-

extended into Ruanda-Urundi they would be forced to continue north before reaching the
border

and Uganda, an area further east that was unfamiliar to Matt.

'All in all,' he thought, 'our options are not that great. The best hope is to keep
fully

informed and anticipate what will happen, hopefully correctly, and then act decisively
and quickly.

Maybe none of these concerns will turn out to be warranted and the transition to
independence

will occur with no problems.'

Sebastian and the other house boys seemed to be less and less concerned about the

outcome of independence and how it would affect them. They saw no preparations on the
Miller's

part to leave and Bwana's attitude did not seem to be one of alarm. As far as they were
concerned

this meant everything was going to be all right. They began to look forward to the day of

celebration.

INDEPE NDANCE

Voici donc venu le grand jour de l'Indépendance, qui fait entrer le Congo
au sein des nations libres et place entre ses mains l'entiére responsabilite'
de ses destinees.

The newspapers proclaimed the arrival of the great day of independence and that
the

Congo was making it's entry into the society of free nations and was taking the entire

responsibility for it's destiny into it's own hands. Those same newspapers were full of
large, paid

advertisements from European controlled businesses as well as private individuals


congratulating

the Congolese on the day of their independence and wishing them every success.

As planned, most Europeans remained in their homes, having been advised to stay
off the

streets except in case of an emergency. They were told to especially avoid being close to
any

native quarters. Matt was spending the day in his office at home catching up on
paperwork while

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-223-

Stephanie busied herself in the house since all of the house boys were off celebrating.
The girls

were playing indoors and out on the second floor terrace.

For the better part of the day the streets of the town were deserted with the
festivities and

drinking being confined mainly to the native quarter. As the day wore on, however, the
alcohol

being consumed in great quantities began to give the blacks the courage to stagger into
other

sections of the town. Occasionally Matt would see some of them passing by in the street
out front,

some hardly able to stand but all obviously having a good time. They did not seem to be
causing

any problems or inflicting any damage.

Late in the afternoon Sebastian and Mungazi came to visit and to wish 'bonne

independence', it being the universal greeting for the day. Uncharacteristically, Sebastian
had been

drinking, but only enough to slightly affect his manner of speech.

Matt stayed in the Bukavu area in the days immediately following independence
and with

the exception of a few minor incidents here and there throughout Congo nothing of a
serious

nature occurred. But there were ominous signs. The complaints from the Congolese
became

louder and more frequent as each day passed. They were seeing no change in their
lifestyle.

Where is the white man's house, his clothes, food... and wife? Why are we not now the
Bwana...

the Master? Where are all those things that we were promised would come with
independence?

Even the police and military were still officered by whites! Where are those promotions
and large

pay increases we were to get?

Stories would differ later as to exactly where and when it all started, but within
five days

after independence there was a barracks mutiny by members of the national army-
gendarmerie at a

base southwest of Leopoldville at Thysville in which Belgian officers were killed. Chaos
began to

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-224-
escalate and spread. The Congolese enlisted men began attacking and killing their
superiors, white

and black alike, in retaliation for unkept promises and general dissatisfaction with
conditions. The

affect on civilians was immediate. Anyone or anything that represented any form of
authority

became a target for destruction, more often than not in the most horrible form imaginable.

The 'événements' spread rapidly to Leopoldville, a relatively short distance to the

northeast, and in it's path were mission stations and schools, -- authority! Whites bore the
brunt of

the attacks, but blacks were also hacked and stoned to death. It was a time to square
things with

enemies and authority as well.

Soon Leopoldville was engulfed in rioting and destruction with gunfire


throughout the

city, groups of whites being held hostage and murdered where they sat in sidewalk cafes,
their

homes, restaurants. Many brutalized, then shot and decapitated on the spot. The
Congolese began

to run rampant through the streets looting, raping and killing. The military and police
stood by

and watched or joined in with some very courageous but fruitless exceptions.

People began to stream toward the ferry that crossed the Congo River to the other
side

and Brazzaville in the Union of Central African Republics, the capital of that former
French

colony. They were in vehicles of all sizes and shapes as well as on foot. Among them
were blacks

who felt they were threatened for one reason or another. Soon the ferry boat landing was
a mass

of panic-stricken people, all fighting and pushing for a place on a ferry to the other side.
Hysteria

reigned and the Congolese 'Force Publique' did nothing to stop the flight, they using
every

opportunity to attack anyone they chose with batons and rifle butts.

In that huge group of shoving, hysterical people were the men, women and children
of

Consolidated's Leopoldville office, each not knowing the whereabouts of the others.
Albert first

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-225-

confined himself to his house intending to stay there until calm was restored. He later
went to the

ferry landing as well.

Word spread through the European community that rescue planes had been
requested and

were on their way from Europe and The United States, which prompted a wild rush by
hundreds

to get to the airport some 29 kilometers from the city. Soon the airport was inundated
with

fighting, screaming people all demanding passage out. Roaming bands of blacks which
included

some armed police and soldiers were inflicting beatings and killing indiscriminately. One
black at

the base of the main stairs in the lobby of the airport pulled the pin from a grenade and
pitched it

into the crowd. The explosion killed or maimed all those in the immediate area, some of
the
shrapnel ripping gaping holes in the ceiling. The holes would remain there for many
months as a

stark reminder of what had happened.

The outside world began to receive word of the spreading horror, slowly at first,
and as

journalists and media representatives began pouring into the country the news flashed
around the

world in all it's horrifying details. The uncontrolled madness began to spread east across
Congo

like wildfire. Mission stations, isolated bush stations as well as those in villages and
towns were

being attacked and burned to the ground, the white missionaries killed or driven into
hiding in the

bush. Raping had become the great sport, many times husbands forced to watch while
their wives

were raped and mutilated before their eyes before they were tortured and put to death.
Nuns were

not immune to the raping, often found later with sticks and rocks stuffed up inside them.
It was

obvious that the act had been committed while they were still alive.

Schools were burned to the ground with both black and white teachers hunted
down,

tortured and put to death in the most horrible manner that centuries of tribal warfare had
taught.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-226-

There were countless incidents of priests being forced to watch repeated raping of nuns
before

they were stoned or hacked to death.


By the second day after the mutiny at Thysville the insurrection had spread to
Stanleyville

where if anything it's intensity increased. The entire area was engulfed in raping, torture
and

killings. Whites were fleeing by any means they could commandeer to the east and
northeast

through the great Ituri Forest where they hoped to cross the borders of Uganda or Sudan.
Even

had they been able to reach there they might find the borders closed and escape rendered

impossible. Kurt Wagemans was trapped in the middle of all this.

In many cases families who were separated at the time the troubles began, men
traveling

or children off to school in other parts of Congo, had no idea as to the others whereabouts
or if

they were alive or safe. Each was left to their own devices in the panic to escape.

Those in southeastern Congo were streaming south into Angola and Northern
Rhodesia.

Sections of Elisabethville were in flames. As a group the Consolidated families drove


caravan

style into Northern Rhodesia ending up in the towns of Kitwe and Ndola. They had
picked up

Monique but Marcel was nowhere to be found and they had to leave without him.

Matt had no knowledge of what was happening to Consolidated's people


throughout

Congo. The news that was still being received in the eastern-central part of Congo was
sketchy,

leaving the impression that it was an isolated incident with no cause for alarm.

The Congo was aflame. The carnage continued to spread rapidly east toward Kivu

Province and the town of Bukavu. There was nothing to stop it!
Since hearing the first radio reports of the Thysville mutiny Matt had listened
almost

constantly to the short wave band on the radio. He dialed back and forth between
Brazzaville, the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-227-

British Broadcasting Company and any others that carried any news of what was
happening. At

first there were only a few details and it was obvious that no one had a clear picture as to
what

was taking place. Along with everyone else Matt had hoped that the uprising would be
confined

to Thysville, but it soon became apparent that this was not to be. Most of the initial news
had

indicated limited work stoppages and some violence. The people who were not already in
the

midst of what was happening, including the Millers, were still unaware of the magnitude
of the

spreading atrocities.

Reports were now coming out of Kindu to the west of troubles that were starting
there.

Private operators of short wave radios were rapidly becoming vital links to the outside
world and

to other parts of the Congo relative to what was happening and where. These reports were
now

being relayed to the worldwide news media.

It was July 11th, six days after Thysville. Matt and Stephanie got up at six o'clock
having

gone to bed only 3 hours earlier. They had listened to the news reports and conditions
were

clearly becoming worse. Last reports indicated that Stanleyville was enveloped in chaos
and that

troubles were now being experienced in the Bunia area far to the north close to the
Uganda

border. That meant it had spread to an area directly north of Bukavu but still many miles
away.

The administration in Leopoldville, such as it was, was completely ineffective


This

so-called government appealed for United Nations intervention. To make matters worse,
Katanga,

the country's richest province, seceded. Heading up the newly declared Republic of
Katanga was

the self-appointed president and former premier of the province, Moise Tshombe.

Sebastian and the other house boys were already in the house and working, they
having

arrived at their customary 6:OOAM starting time. They had been unusually silent since
the news

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-228-

reports first began, fearful of what was developing. Only once the day before had
Sebastian

spoken of the troubles. Matt had been listening to the radio with Stephanie beside him
when he

had entered the room.

"Bwana, does this mean you will leave us?"

Stephanie and Matt looked at each other before Matt replied. "Sebastian, bring the
others

here please. I want to talk to all of you."


After they had all assembled Matt said, "I want you all to know that Mandami and
I do not

want to leave. We know that most Congolese are not responsible for what is happening.

Unfortunately there are those who are the kind that would hurt Mandami and the
children.

Although I am certain we would do our best to protect them we all know that with their
greater

numbers we would be overpowered. That is what is happening in the rest of Congo. We


cannot

permit that to happen. It appears that we may have to leave Congo for awhile. The news
reports

we will hear will help us decide."

"If we do leave," Stephanie added, "we will just be waiting for things to return to
normal

again. Then we will come back. Do you all understand?"

"Ndiyo, Mandami," they all answered in unison.

"Now," Matt said, "after breakfast all of you please help prepare to close up the
house.

We will take only the clothes we are able to get into the bags that will fit on the roof rack
of the

car. We must be prepared to go quickly if we decide to leave."

"Where will you go, Bwana?" Sebastian asked.

"Probably to Usumbura, but that depends upon from which direction the troubles
come. If

it's from the south that road will probably be closed and we will then go by one of the
other

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-229-
routes. Now let's eat and then begin our preparations."

They had completed their packing the day before and now the suitcases were on
the beds

upstairs needing only to be closed and loaded on the car. Matt walked into the living
room and

snapped on the radio. Stephanie had gone upstairs to dress the girls. He recalled her
question

before they had gone to sleep a few hours earlier.

"Matt, do you think we've waited too long?"

"No, I really don't. I'd hate to see us leave and then find that this area had never
been in

danger. But neither will we take any chances. If it spreads any closer than Bunia in the
north,

down to Beni for example, or as far north as Albertville in the south, we leave."

As the radio tubes warmed the short wave station at Brazzaville came in very
clear.

There were reports of increased troubles in Stanleyville and Bunia. Transport planes were
being

provided by some European nations and The United States. The shuttle flights back and
forth to

Europe had already begun. The United Nations Security Council had been called into
special

session.

'Shuttle planes?' Matt thought. 'Security Council? It's apparent that things are out
of

control.'

The announcer continued with stories of reports coming in of heroism by some


blacks and
whites in their attempts to help each other. The Congo Sabena pilots that Matt had come
to know

as close friends were distinguishing themselves by flying into remote areas to bring out
people

living in the bush on mission stations and in the smaller interior towns. Often they were
landing

and taking off from open grass fields, anyplace that provided a flat space wide enough
and long

enough onto which they could land their DC-3s and 4s. There were instances when they
were

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-230-

fired upon while landing and taking off with no one able to provide protection outside
the

immediate perimeters of the landing sites. Often the landing strip itself was in danger of
being

overrun and frequently was.

Matt began to realize that what was spreading throughout the country was far
more

serious than the reports received so far had indicated. The French newscaster in
Brazzaville

continued, "We will repeat some of the reports now coming in from numerous short wave
radio

operators around the Congo as well as the news reports received from the international
wire

services who claim to have correspondents on the scene." Then he began to relate some
of the

atrocities committed and the happenings of the past five days.

Matt listened intently. 'Fortunately', he thought, 'Stephanie is not listening.'


"We have now received word," the commentator continued, "that there have been
some

outbreaks as far south as Lubero and some minor incidents reported in Goma in Kivu
Province. It

would seem that before the day is out the whole of the Congo will be engulfed in this
tragedy."

"Lubero! Goma!" Matt said half aloud. 'There has been no progression south
through the

towns further up north. It's jumped over and well below them to Goma.' He had heard
enough.

He snapped off the radio and walking to the kitchen he called Sebastian to one side.

"We will have breakfast quickly! Pack us enough sandwiches and food to last for one
day and fill

the thermos bottles with coffee and water."

Sebastian knew what was happening and did not question his instructions. He
turned and

immediately began preparing and instructing the others.

Matt walked into Jenny's room where Stephanie was helping her into her dress.
Stephanie

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-231-

looked at him and knew immediately.

"It's bad isn't it? We should go now shouldn't we?"

He walked to her and kissed her and then Jenny. "Everything is going to be all
right," he

smiled. "It's spreading southward and I've told them to pack food. We'll eat breakfast
quickly.
Let's finish dressing the girls and get going as soon as we can. In a few hours we'll be
safe in

Usumbura with Andre. We can watch developments from there."

-----------------

The house was all locked up and Matt had given Sebastian and the others
advances on

their salaries. He had gone to the bank and withdrawn most of their personal funds, all of
which

were in Congolese Francs. They had been unable to contact Doctor and Mrs. Hanscom
since the

week before they had left to stay at one of the mission stations north of Bukavu and were
not

scheduled to return until the following week. Matt hoped they were monitoring the short
wave

bands and knew what was going on so that they too could get out if necessary. Each
mission

station had a short wave transmitter and receiver since telephones did not exist in the
bush. By

the time they got underway it was noon. The three girls were in the back seat with their
excited

little dog, Fritz, all of them treating the situation as though they were starting out on a
vacation

trip. The roof rack was piled high with bags that Matt had covered with waterproof
canvas and

then tied down.

He took familiar streets to the south of town that led to the main road down the

escarpment. As he reached the outskirts he suddenly pulled over to the edge of the road
and

stopped, looking straight ahead in deep thought.


"What's wrong?" Stephanie asked.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-232-

He leaned toward her and spoke softly enough so that the children could not hear.
"I have

a strong feeling we should head straight east across the Ruzizi. It means we'll be heading

immediately into mountainous country and it's a hard drive to Astrida, the first town of
any size

we'll come to in Ruanda-Urundi. I have a dealer there and we can send and receive
messages

through him."

"Why not Usumbura?" Stephanie asked. "It's blacktop all the way and much
easier."

"Almost all of the road is in Congo. Being a principal route out I can't see it
remaining open

for long. Because there are only a few small native villages between here and Astrida and
the road

is certainly not a main one it will probably be relatively free and left alone. Apart from all
that I

just have this feeling." °

"Then let's turn around and do it." He swung the car around and headed back through the

southeastern part of town. In a few minutes they had reached the bridge and crossed into

Ruanda-Urundi, immediately beginning the climb into the higher elevations of the
mountains. The

road was solidly embedded with rocks so sharp and jagged that they could strip the treads
off tires

after only five to eight thousand miles, providing the casing lasted that long from the
terrible
pounding they took.

With a full tank of gas and the two large jerry cans he always carried there would
be

enough fuel to get them to Astrida. The town was small, it's largest structure being a
Catholic

mission and church in the heart of town. There was a tiny hotel on the main street that
had just a

few rooms with very crude accommodations. 'But it will do,' Matt thought. 'at least until
we get a

better idea of how things in Congo are going to turn out. Hopefully they will be brought
quickly

under control and we can return home in a day or two.'

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-233-

In spite of the bouncing and skidding the girls were soon sound asleep in the back
with

Fritz nestled down in between Betsy and Lisa. As was her habit Stephanie forced herself
to stay

awake to keep Matt company. They sped along the mountain road as fast as conditions
and the

little car would permit.

--------------

They pulled up in front of the little hotel long after dark. The children wakened
when the

motion of the car stopped and Matt had switched off the engine. No one appeared to be
hungry

since they had eaten most of the food Mungazi had prepared, but all were very tired.

"Wait here in the car. I'll go in and see about a room." He knew that if there was
no room

available there would be absolutely no other place for them to stay and they would
probably end

up sleeping all night in the tiny car.

A short while later he came back. "Come on you guys," he smiled, "it isn't much
but we

have one small room and they'll put in two cots next to the double bed. We can all take a
nice hot

bath."

They piled out of the car and before long were all bundled together in a room so
full of

beds that they had to walk over them to get around. All were within easy reach of each
other after

they had crawled into bed, with Fritz under the covers with Lisa.

Stephanie and Matt lay awake staring toward the ceiling in the darkness.

"Did you hear any news about what's happening in Congo? In Bukavu?"
Stephanie

whispered.

"Very little. But I found out that most of the Europeans who live here in Astrida
have

gone, including my dealer. I asked why since the troubles are in Congo and not here.
Both the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-234-

man an woman who own this place told me that everyone expects the same to happen
here. The

owners aren't leaving because they say they have no other place to go. This is their home
and
everything they possess is here."

"Can't we get any news of what's happening in Bukavu?" she asked.

"Apparently it's impossible. Any news they are receiving is so confused and
contradictory

that no one believes any of it."

They lay in silence for awhile. Matt decided now was the time to break the news
of his

decision.

"Honey, I think we should head for Uganda. Get out of Ruanda-Urundi. Any other

direction keeps us in this country or takes us back to Congo. I know this area and the
roads as far

as Kigali to the north but beyond that point it's all unfamiliar country to me. I do know it
gets

flatter the closer you get to Uganda but I also know there is very little between Kigali and
the

Ugandan border, and it's a long way."

"What's in Uganda when we reach there? I know you've never been in that part of
Uganda

either."

"I checked the map and it appears that the closest and largest town is Mbarara,
quite a few

miles north of the frontier. We can go there."

Again silence.

"Seems we have little choice, Mr. Miller. We'll have to do it."

He rolled over and embraced her. "You're really something," he whispered. "How
the hell

did I ever get you and the girls into this mess?"
She turned and kissed him. "When you married me you promised to take me away
from it

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-235-

all, but this is ridiculous!"

"We may have a problem with Fritz," he said.

"Why Fritz?"

"Uganda is British. In England they have a six months quarantine period for
animals being

brought into the country. I have no idea whether the same law applies in Uganda and we
can't

take a chance on getting all the way to the border and then be turned back because of the
dog. As

I said, there's little between Kigali and the border and it's a long way."

"Oh, Matt, what'll we do? We can't desert that little dog. He's a member of the
family."

"We won't do that. I've been thinking. My dealer in Kigali and I have become
quite close.

We have to stop there and refuel at his gas station. I can ask if he'll take care of him. It
shouldn't

be for very long and I'll leave him money to buy rice and meat to feed him."

"He'll be OK then?", looking for Matt's reassurance.

"I'm sure of it. Now let's get some sleep. We have by far a longer drive tomorrow
than we

had today."

He kissed her. As he was slipping off to sleep he thought about Kigali being right
in the

heart of the country where the Bahutu war against the Watusi was taking place.
They had an early breakfast while the owners of the hotel prepared sandwiches
from thick

fresh bread and filled the thermos bottles. Matt filled up the gas tank and jerry cans at
their pumps

just in front of the hotel and shortly they were bouncing and sliding along the road
leading to

Kigali to the north.

It was the drive beyond that concerned him. It was unfamiliar country and a long
distance to

the border and Mbarara further to the north. He would certainly need gasoline long before

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-236-

reaching the border and beyond Kigali he had no idea if there would be any available
along the

way. 'God forbid,' he thought, 'that we have any car trouble at any time.' He immediately
forced

the thought from his mind.

It was mid-afternoon when they pulled up in front of the dealer's shop. Matt went
inside

and the black clerk recognized him immediately and went to the house a short distance in
back of

the store to get the owner. Shortly, Ali walked in the door smiling and extended his hand
in

greeting.

"Hello, Mr. Miller! I am glad to see you."

"And I'm glad to see you, Ali. I wish it were under different circumstances," Matt
said

pointing to his fully occupied car outside, "but I felt it would be safer to take my family
into

Uganda until the problems in Congo are over."

"It is terrible - isn't it? As yet we are unaffected here but we are all prepared to
leave on a

moment's notice."

"I would like to fill up at your pumps outside and I have a great favor to ask of
you

concerning our dog."

"Anything! "

As they walked out Matt explained their predicament with respect to Fritz. By the
time

they reached the car the matter had been resolved.

"Ali has graciously agreed to keep Fritz for us until we return."

"I am most pleased to do so."

"Thank you very much," Stephanie said noticeably relieved. "We love him very
much. He's

a very important part of our family."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-237-

"What are you going to do about money in Uganda, Mr. Miller?"

"I have Congolese Francs. I'll convert them to East African Shillings as I've done
before."

"I'm afraid that because of the instability since independence Congolese Francs
are worth

much less outside," Ali said. "They are being purchased, but only in towns close to the
border and

the rates of exchange penalize the seller severely. The purchasers then go back across the
border

into Congo or Ruanda-Urundi and either make purchases or sell the Francs at a nice
profit to

someone there. Many have relatives and friends who participate in the scheme."

"Then I'll have no choice but to pay the premium. I only hope it's not so high that
I won't

have enough to keep us going for whatever period is necessary. I'll need money for
gasoline, food

and lodging. Fortunately I have quite a lot with me. We'll just have to take our chances."

"How far into Uganda are you going?"

"Mbarara tonight and then continue north to Kampala tomorrow. I've been to
Kampala

but have never driven through that part of Uganda before. I understand there is a small
hotel in

Mbarara where we hope to stay tonight."

"Since you are going to Kampala I will give you a draft for 6,000 East African
Shillings.

Let me see..., that is roughly the equivalent of 720 of your U.S. dollars. You can present
the draft

to my brother who has a business there and he will give you the money. I will give you
his

address."

"But, Ali, I couldn't! I'm not certain how long we'll be away. I--"

"I will not listen to any further discussion on the subject," Ali interrupted. "I know
you

will pay me back and have no fear for that. You must do it, otherwise you may find
yourself in

great difficulty, isn't it? Now... let us make arrangements for your departure. You have a
long,
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-238-

difficult trip ahead of you."

"When we get to Kampala," Matt said, "I plan to call Harry Callaghan who heads
up our

East African branch in Nairobi. I must let our U.S. headquarters know where we are as
well as try

to get news of our other Congo staff. Harry can handle all of that for me and I'll also
arrange to

get the money from him to repay you and your brother."

"Not to worry. That is fine. But we will not concern ourselves with that. Now let
us get

your petrol and I will make up the draft and a note to my brother. You must get started
quickly,

otherwise you will be driving too long after dark."

Shortly they had filled the tank and cans with gasoline. The girls were saying
good-bye to

Fritz who was now tied to the front of the house behind the shop.

"We can't thank you enough for your kindness," Stephanie said. "Please take care
of Fritz

for us."

"Mrs. Miller, he will be treated as a member of the family. I am sorry my wife and
children

were not here to meet you but I sent them to Kampala a few weeks ago until things are
back to

normal here."

The Volkswagen disappeared down the dusty main street headed in an easterly
direction,
it's occupants considerably sadder because an important member of the family, a little
black

dachshund, had been left behind. Matt hoped it would not be long until he would be
reunited with

his family who loved him so much. 'However,' he rationalized, 'I cannot risk making an
already

difficult situation more hazardous by not being able to quickly enter Uganda and we
certainly

couldn't desert him at the border. I just hope Ali doesn't leave him if he has to evacuate
because of

troubles.' He decided it was best not to reveal this concern to Stephanie and the girls.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-239-

They continued driving east, Matt estimating that after approximately 80


kilometers they

would turn straight north for the long stretch to Uganda. They were passing through
rolling

country that contained lush vegetation although somewhat thinner than that which they
had left in

the mountainous country behind. As they drove along the dirt road throwing up a long
cloud of

dust behind them Matt noticed ahead and off to the left what appeared to be the deserted,
burned

out shells of huts that he recognized as the remains of a Watusi village. It was partially
obscured

by clumps of banana trees and thick, high bushes.

It was hard to tell how long it had been since it had been razed but the absence of
smoke

led him to believe it had been at least two or three days. He accelerated the car intending
to say

nothing but Stephanie caught sight of it.

"I wonder what happened there?" Then she realized what she was seeing. She
looked at

Matt. "Watusi village?"

"Yes."

They both lapsed into silence as they continued to drive eastward, the girls
busying

themselves in the back seat with crayons and coloring books that Stephanie had wisely
brought

along to keep them occupied. They came upon another burned out village and it was
again

apparent that the attack had taken place some time before. Each kilometer they drove
took them

deeper and deeper into the war-torn region.

As they approached the intersection where he knew they must turn left and to the
north,

both he and Stephanie saw it at the same time. She squeezed his arm and silently pointed.

There was a large truck stopped in the middle of the crossroad and blocking the
route that

they must take to the north. As they drove closer Matt's pulse quickened when he saw that
the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-240-

truck was painted the dark olive drab of the Force Publique. Sitting along the slat benches
in the

back were a dozen or so uniformed soldiers, all holding automatic weapons. The driver
was
behind the wheel and another uniformed black was sitting in the seat beside him.

Matt knew that they would be Congolese and undoubtedly from some part other
than

eastern Congo. In keeping with the Army's policy under the Belgians the black soldiers
were

always assigned to areas foreign to them so that in the event they were called upon to use
force or

fire upon the locals for whatever the reason, they would not hesitate to do so because of
any tribal

affiliation. In Ruanda-Urundi the soldiers were always brought in from Congo and
usually from

parts that were a considerable distance from the eastern borders.

As he approached the intersection he slowed and started to make a left turn to


drive

around the back of the truck, even though it meant slightly leaving the road. Without
looking at

Stephanie he said, "Honey, please keep the girls calm. They might not even stop us."

All of the soldiers in the back of the truck watched intently as the car passed to
the rear of

the truck and started it's swing around to their right. Suddenly as he cleared the right rear
corner

of the truck the right door of the cab swung open and the uniformed soldier jumped out
holding

up his hand and blocking the way. Matt felt as if his insides had suddenly collapsed.

He braked the car to a stop as the sergeant walked around to his window. Matt did
not

switch off the engine. Slipping the lever into first gear he kept the clutch disengaged with
the car

at a right angle to the rear of the truck. They were stopped in full view of the watching
soldiers
seated in the back of the truck.

The scowling sergeant peered into the car, first at Matt, then Stephanie and then
the three

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-241-

girls in the back. Looking over the sergeant's shoulder Matt could see the others pointing
at them,

their interest clearly being more in the three white-haired little girls and Stephanie.

"Bon jour, Sergent," Matt said, hoping for communication in French.

"Bon jour," the soldier replied without smiling. "Where are you going?" He spoke
in very

poor, halting French.

"We are driving north to Uganda to visit friends." The less said the better to keep
the

language simple and to not confuse him.

"Let me see your carte d'identite'," the noncom said holding out his hand while
continuing

to peer at Stephanie and the girls.

As Matt took his identity card from his wallet and handed it to the sergeant one of
the

soldiers jumped down from the back of the truck and slinging his weapon over his
shoulder

walked to the car. While the sergeant looked thoughtfully at the card the other soldier
pressed his

face up to the back window shading the sunlight with his hand in order to see inside.
Stephanie

reached back pretending to straighten the girl's dresses.


"Girls.., everything is fine. They're checking our papers. Just be quiet and we'll be
on our

way very soon."

"From where are you coming? Where do you live?"

His French was so poor that Matt could barely understand him. It was apparent
that the

soldier was trying to impress them with his knowledge of the language. All the while the
other

soldier peered menacingly in the windows at the children, he having taken his weapon
from his

shoulder, now holding it in both hands in front of him.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-242-

Matt slowly moved his hand to the snap-out panel on the dashboard and let it rest
there. If

it looked as though there would be trouble their chances would be slim, but if he fired
quickly at

the two of them with the small automatic and then gunned the car around the truck the
surprise

move might just give them enough of a lead to prevent the others from firing effectively.
To just

sit there and let them do as they wished was unthinkable. Better that they all be killed by
gunfire

than for Stephanie and the girls to be subjected to the horrors that others had experienced.

"I said," the sergeant said with a hint of anger in his voice, "where do you live?"

Matt was just about to point at his identity card that was still in the sergeant's
hands and

say that as it indicated on the card they were from Bukavu when he suddenly realized that
the man

could not read. The curious way he had been looking at the card made it obvious.

"We come from Astrida." 'Better that we should come from here in Ruanda-
Urundi,' he

quickly thought, 'rather than Congo. Then it won't appear as if we're running. Fortunately
the

same blue and yellow license plates are used in both countries.' He needed to show that
their trip

was officially approved in order to impress this man who was obviously very much taken
with

himself and his position of authority. On impulse Matt reached into the pocket of the car
door and

pulled out an official looking document and handed it to the sergeant.

"Here is our approval to move through your area, Sergeant." He intentionally


emphasized

the word 'your'.

The soldier took the single sheet and studied it thoughtfully. Matt glanced at
Stephanie

who frowned at him questioningly. She knew they had no such authority.

The second soldier had now moved to Stephanie's window and was staring at her,
his face

not more than a foot from hers. He started to lean his weapon against the car. She did her
best to

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-243-

look unconcerned. Matt slipped the tips of his fingers over the panel's edge preparing to
pull it off

to get to the weapon inside.


The sergeant looked up from the documents, hesitated, then shoved them through
the

window at Matt. Then he stepped back from the car and yelled angrily at the soldier on
the other

side of the car in what Matt thought sounded like Lingala. The other soldier picked up his
weapon

and stepped back quickly. Matt snapped the panel off and let it drop to the floor. He
reached in

and wrapped his fingers around the handgun out of sight of both of them. He would take
the one

on Stephanie's side first since he had his weapon in his hand and the sergeant's sidearm
was still

holstered. He would need to push Stephanie out of the way and lean over her to fire but it
was

their only chance. The soldiers in the truck had stopped talking and were now watching
silently.

The sergeant looked down at Matt and then suddenly stiffening to a position of
attention

he smiled broadly revealing teeth that had been filed to sharp points.

"Everything is in order," he saluted crisply. "You may proceed.!"

"Merci! Merci mille fois!" Releasing his hold on the pistol he withdrew his hand
from the compartment.

Stephanie smiled at both of the soldiers as Matt slowly let out the clutch. As they
crept

toward the corner of the truck the sergeant yelled an order at the driver who immediately
started

the engine of the truck and with a roar edged it closer to the other side of the road to
make their

passage easier. As they pulled around the vehicle Matt, Stephanie and the girls waved at
the still
smiling sergeant and then to all of the others on the truck. They all smiled and waved in
return.

When they had gone just beyond the truck Matt rapidly shifted gears and
accelerated. He

glanced in the rear view mirror and could see that the truck was still sitting at the
intersection. He

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-244-

spoke without looking at Stephanie, exerting every effort to control the muscles in his
face in

order not to reveal the strain he felt that must surely be apparent.

"Seems our friend the Sergeant couldn't read a word of what he was looking at.
He didn't

have any idea what was on those papers."

"They seemed to have impressed him," she said. "What were they? You don't have
any

authority from anyone, do you?"

He took the document from the pouch again and handed it to her. "This was our

authority."

She unfolded it and read the first two lines of a beautifully embossed print:

You are cordially invited to attend


a dinner in honor of the visit .....

"I shoved it in there the night we went to the Lenoir's dinner party about three
weeks ago.

I noticed it yesterday when I was checking the maps for the trip. Almost threw it away."

He pressed down harder on the gas pedal to increase the distance between them
and
the soldiers as quickly as he could. 'We must find gasoline someplace between here and
the

border,' he thought. This was entirely strange country they were in now but he did know
one thing

about it. He knew that there were almost no villages until they reached Mbarara, well
beyond the

border. To be stranded in unfamiliar bush country and not know the makeup or mentality
of it's

inhabitants could be just as bad a fate as that which could have befallen them at the hands
of the

Force Publique just a few miles back.

Although they were still at an elevation of over 5,000 feet the country was much
flatter.

The dirt road was relatively straight and with fewer curves. The lush, thick vegetation had
given

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-245-

way to sparse scrub brush and small trees that contained little foliage. As a result they
could see

for long distances in every direction. Matt was pushing the little car to it's limit and the
swirling

dust under and behind the car was seeping inside and covering it's occupants. He was
thankful,

however, that they were in the dry season and had the dust to contend with instead of the

quagmire of mud with which they would be confronted if it were the rainy season.

They continued traveling north with each kilometer they covered bringing them
closer to

the Ugandan border, but each of those kilometers also consumed more gasoline. They had
seen
very few people along the way and the occasional small villages through which they
passed were

only made up of a few small huts with no service facilities or shops of any kind. As the
time

passed his dead reckoning told him that if they did not find gasoline before long they
would run

out well before reaching the border. Also, according to the map there was very little, if
anything,

between the border and their Ugandan destination, Mbarara, another 80 kilometers
beyond.

He glanced at the gas gauge which was now showing empty. There was one five
gallon

Jerry can of gasoline left and he knew he would need to stop shortly to pour it's contents
into the

almost empty tank.

Stephanie touched Matt's arm. "Have you noticed there are more and more natives
on the

road? They seem to be going in both directions and by the appearance of the baskets the
women

are carrying on their heads and backs it looks like market day. See how those being
carried in the

direction were going are empty and those carried in the direction from which we are
coming are

full. I think were coming to a principal village."

"You're right. Look up ahead in the distance. There are some mud and stucco
buildings on

both sides of the road. If it's a market town it may be big enough to have some shops run
by

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-246-

Europeans or Asians. That usually means at least one gas pump."

As they pulled closer to the town the number of people along the road increased
and Matt

had to slow down to get through them. They pulled in between the buildings lining both
sides of

the road and came out into a large open dirt town square that was surrounded on all sides
by

flat-roofed, grayish-brown buildings mainly constructed of mud. There were hundreds of


milling

natives crowding the marketplace to buy meat, fruits and vegetables that had been
brought in

from the surrounding countryside. Usually on these market days Asians and Europeans
would set

up stalls from which they would sell cloth, tobacco, tools and any other staples not
obtainable

locally, but Matt did not see anything other than black faces as their car rolled into the
square.

They quickly became the center of attention. Both of them were very much
conscious of

the fact that they were the only whites. He kept the car moving, but because of the crowd
he was

forced to drive very slowly. They were surrounded by blacks now who were talking
loudly and

gesturing at them. They seemed surprised to see these whites. Matt began to feel uneasy.
As he

inched the car forward to keep from hitting them they stepped reluctantly aside. They
were

bunched so thickly around them that it was impossible to see beyond in any direction, so
much so
that he was not even certain if he was still on any road or street. He knew that they must
be

getting close to the center of the marketplace.

"Essence! Nous avons besoin d'essence!" he yelled out the window, but his
indication that

they needed gasoline was only met with continued stares, chattering and pointing. The
noise they

were making was deafening.

"Stephanie," he yelled, "ask them in Swahili where we can get gasoline. They
apparently

don't understand French."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-247-

She turned and shouted above the din in Swahili, "Where can we find gasoline?"

Immediately a few of them pointed off to the left and beyond the car. They pushed

their way around the car and ahead in that direction. Matt slowly followed their lead as
the

thickening crowd parted and let them through.

As the natives in front of them cleared a path they came to a slight curb on Matt's
side

which they paralleled for a short distance. Suddenly a gasoline pump with it's glass
cylindrical top

appeared. It was half full of the pinkish-colored fluid which meant there was fuel in the

underground tank below. It was a hand-operated pump typical of the kind found all over
Africa.

There was a padlock on the pump handle. He pulled up next to the gas pump and stepped
out of

the car needing to force some of the natives back from the door to do so.
"Please be careful." Stephanie said. "You don't know what they will do."

He pointed at the lock and yelled at her, "Ask them who can give us some
gasoline!"

She looked at one of the natives that had led them to the pump and shouting as
loudly as

she could she asked him where the man was who could give them gasoline. He turned
and

without a word disappeared into the crowd. Matt leaned down and looked over at her
through the

window.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing! He has either gone to get someone who can help, or... he's just gone!"

"We'll have to wait." He straightened up and smiled at the blacks who were
pressing closer

and closer to the car in order to get a better look at it's contents. They were crowded so
thickly

around them now that their sheer numbers would have prevented the car from being
driven in any

direction. He stood pressed up against the side of the car attempting to appear as
unconcerned

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-248-

and detached as possible.

They waited. The heat of the afternoon sun and the hundreds of bodies shoving
and

pushing around them made it almost impossible to breathe. They began to perspire
profusely, the

perspiration mixing with the dust that covered them. The children were soon crying from
the

discomfort and continuing noise and Stephanie tried her best to comfort them.

Matt was on the verge of getting back into the car to attempt to drive out and take
the

chance that they might find gasoline further on when the native to whom Stephanie had
spoken

appeared at her window pulling another man by the arm.

"Mandami," he said pointing at the man he had in tow, "this is man who dispenses
gasoline

for his Bwana."

"We want to buy some gasoline!" she yelled.

He clasped his hands together and half bowed. "I am sorry, Mandami, but I cannot

dispense without my Bwana being here."

"Where is your Bwana and how can we contact him?"

"He and all of the other whites left this morning in cars and trucks going north.
They all

said they would be back in a few days. They locked up everything."

Stephanie turned to Matt and translated what the man had said.

"I would imagine the reason they left is the exact same reason we're here,
otherwise they

would never leave the area on such an important day as market day. I notice the few
shops here

are all closed." He glanced at the waiting native and then back to Stephanie. "I doubt very
much

that it was left with him but ask him if he has the key to the lock on the pump."

The man listened to Stephanie as she asked the question and then smiling broadly
reached
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-249-

into his pocket and dangled a large ring with many keys on it in front of his face.

"Ndiyo, Mandami!"

"Then let us buy some gasoline please!" she said in a voice that projected more
than just a

little authority. "I am certain your Bwana would be very pleased that you are continuing
to run his

business for him while he is gone."

The native's smile disappeared. He glanced at Matt and then at the group
surrounding the

car as if looking for some guidance.

"Quickly!" she shouted. "We must continue our journey! Which way did your
Bwana go?"

The man pointed north. The noise of the crowd, the crying children, the dust and
the heat

were beginning to take their toll.

"Good!" she said. "We are going there also. When we see him we will tell him
how well

you are taking care of his affairs." She intentionally yelled louder and looked at the other
natives

when she spoke hoping that if put on this basis and he refused he would feel he had lost
face by

not having been given authority and trusted by his master.

The man looked nervously from her to Matt, then back again to her.

"Come now! We must go!" she commanded.

Her stern demand provoked him into action and he moved quickly around the car
and
unlocked the padlock. Matt reached through his window and pulled the release, walked to
the

front of the car and lifted the hood. He took the nozzle from the hook on the side of the
pump and

placed it in the tank opening as the black began to pump.

The crowd surrounding the car pushed in closer and their noisy shouts and yelling
seemed

to increase. A few who were further back were now beginning to shout in what sounded
like a

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-250-

tribal tongue. They began pushing forward and it forced those up front in closer and
tighter. The

crowd was on the verge of going out of control and Matt could sense it. The tank was
almost full

and he waved the attendant to stop. Quickly capping the tank he grabbed the Jerry can
and

shoved the nozzle of the hose into it and waved at the native who began pumping again.
He

glanced nervously around as he was jostled by those closest to him. He suddenly waved
wildly

and shouted at the top of his voice in English, "OK! Shut the damn thing off!"

The shock affect of his voice and his wildly waving arms momentarily stopped
the shoving

and pushing by those who could see and hear him. Those in front were startled enough to
back

up a few steps. The affect was to push those behind them back in the process.

Matt stomped around the car in mock anger, a terrible scowl on his face. He
shoved the
hose into the hands of the attendant, reached into his pocket and quickly counted out a
quantity of

Francs and handed them to him. As he did, without looking at her he yelled as angrily and
as loud

as he could, again startling them a few steps backward.

"Stephanie! Take all of the coins you have out of your purse!" He walked around
to his

door and while doing so took all the coins he had out of his pocket and held them. "When
I say

go," he shouted, "throw those coins as far away from the car and over their heads as you
can. I'11

do the same." He paused and looked around. "Are you ready?"

"Yes!"

"OK..., Go!"

As he pitched the coins away from his side of the car and Stephanie flung hers out
of the

window and over the heads of those standing closest he shouted as loud as he could,
"Zawadi!

Zawadi! Gift! Gift!"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-251-

The milling blacks who were closest to the car were the only ones who could see
and hear

what was happening but it brought the desired result. They began yelling and pushing to
get at the

coins that had been thrown behind them forcing the others back in the process. Matt
jumped into

the car.
"Wind up the windows .... quickly!"

He started the car, threw it into gear and laid on the horn. He let the clutch pedal
out

partially and racing the engine began slowly moving forward, all the while continuing to
blow the

horn. The startled natives in front moved aside knocking each other down to get out of
the way.

"Be careful you don't hit any of them," Stephanie yelled.

The din of the crowd, the horn blowing and the racing engine frightened the girls
more

and they all began to cry harder. With the windows wound up tightly conditions inside the
car

were almost unbearable.

"Where the hell is the end of this crowd?" Matt yelled. As he kept racing the
engine and

riding the clutch to control the low speed the smell of the burning clutch began to fill the
car. He

let the pedal out further and began to pick up speed. He shouted through clenched teeth.
"We've

got to keep moving!"

Those now parting in front of them revealed that the crowd was thinning out
ahead of

them. Matt let the pedal out all the way and the car jumped forward as he shifted into
second

and accelerated. Rocks began to pelt the back of the car as he glanced in the rear view
mirror at a

number of natives who were running after them. He shifted into third gear and picked up
speed as

they passed between the buildings on the north side of the square and out on to the open
road

beyond. The natives walking along the road looked at them curiously, not being aware of
what

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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had happened back in the town.

The dust billowed up behind them as they sped further away from this latest
danger. He

rolled down his window to let some air into the stifling interior of the car. Noticing that
Stephanie

was silent and unmoving he glanced over at her. She sat staring straight ahead, tears
streaming

down her face leaving streaks of dark brown from the dust that covered her. It was taking
all the

effort she could muster to keep from crying openly.

He reached over and put his arm around her shoulder pulling her to him. "Your
mascara is

running, Mrs. Miller." He kissed her on top of the head. "I love you so much... more than
you'll

ever know. Your quick thinking saved us back there."

"0h, Matt," she sobbed, I didn't know ...uh.... how afraid I.... I was until.... until
we got

a.... away."

"That makes two of us. But you pulled it off. Now let's get into Uganda and have
some

hot food and rest at that little hotel. We'll get there late but now we have plenty of gas to
do it."

They had no way of knowing it but at that moment they were among thousands of
other
refugees evacuating from all over the Belgian Congo, black and white. He had had little
time to think about anyone

other than his own family and their safety.

Although the border crossing they would be using at Kakitumba was small and
very

seldom used he was apprehensive about what they would find there. It was quite possible
that it

would be closed or jammed with refugees. He was counting on it's isolated location
providing an

easier crossing in comparison to the more easily accessible and often used post at
Goma/Kisenyi

and then Kisoro.

It was just turning dark as they pulled up to the small patch of stuccoed buildings
grouped

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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together with the familiar guardhouse at the left of the road with it's barber-striped pole
on a

pedestal, the pole extending out over the road and blocking the way. The place appeared
to be

deserted. That could be good and it could be bad, he thought. He brought the car to a stop
just in

front of the pole and left the engine running.

"Wonder where the guard is?" he said as calmly as he could. He pulled their
passports

from the door pouch in readiness.

"There he comes, Daddy," Betsy pointed as a uniformed native came around the
side of
the building.

"Bon jour, Monsieur... Madame! Passeport, s'il vous plait," he said extending his
hand.

Matt quickly handed him the passports. "Bon jour, Monsieur."

The man leafed through the passports and each time he came to the photograph page
he

would peer into the car to match it with one of the occupants. He closed the passports and
thrust

them back at Matt, stepped back and saluted smartly.

"Ça va, Monsieur! Vous pouvez continuez! Bon voyage!" and with that he pushed
the

counter weight down forcing the pole to rise and free their way.

"Merci beaucoup," Matt responded, a tremendous feeling of relief engulfing him.

As they moved forward he half turned smiling. "Well, Miller family, we are now
in

Uganda."

After a few hundred feet they came to another barrier similar to the one they had
just

passed. It was at Merama on the Uganda side and stopping the car he handed their
passports to

the tall black Ugandan in his dark blue crisply starched shorts and short-sleeved shirt. His
British

army boots were highly polished and he wore a bright red fez on his head that was tilted
forward

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-254-

to his eyebrows. He stamped each passport with the entry date and name of the crossing
and
handed them back to Matt without a word.

"Thank you," Matt said as he put the car in gear and pulled away.

It was almost completely dark now with just a hint of orange glowing on the
horizon to

the west. They continued through rolling country, but now the road wound around
occasional

higher hills that slowed their speed and often limited their ability to see for any great
distance

ahead. Although it was still a dirt road it was decidedly better maintained which made for
easier

driving. He calculated that if the road was this way all the way to Mbarara they should
reach there

sometime between nine and ten o'clock barring any unexpected happenings. If their luck
held they

could then wash the dust and grime away and get some much needed rest.

It was just after nine o'clock when he passed the sign signifying 'Mbarara.' He
glanced at

Stephanie and saw that her head was nodding and her eyes were closed. She had finally

succumbed to the exhaustion after having fought it so gallantly for so long. Jenny was
also sound

asleep in her lap as were the other two girls in the back seat.

"Honey," he said gently in order not to startle them, "we're here."

Her head came up quickly. "What?!"

"Were here. Now all we have to do is locate the hotel. I see a gas station up ahead
and the

lights are on. I'll ask there."

He came out of the attendants shack and as they pulled away Matt said, "Were not
too far
from the hotel. Just to the left and up an access road. He said we would see it as we turn
the

corner a little further on.

"Funny thing," he continued, "when I spoke English to that black attendant he


seemed

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-255-

friendly, but when we walked out the door and he saw our car his attitude changed. He
became

sullen and unpleasant."

"Wonder why?" Stephanie puzzled.

"I think it was after he saw the Congolese license plates."

A short distance later as they came around a curve in the road they saw the hotel
building

at the top of a winding access road that branched off the main road to the left just as the
station

attendant had said. It seemed as though every light in the main building was on. Cars
were not

only lined along both sides of the long access road but they spilled down onto the main
road over

which they were traveling. They could make out groups of people walking up and down
the road

and standing around on the spacious lawn and garden in front.

"Looks as if there's a very large party in process," Stephanie said. "Maybe it's a
wedding

reception."

He turned to the left and began to weave his way through the cars and people
along the
already narrow road. As his headlights passed over the cars he turned to Stephanie.
"These cars

all have Congolese plates!"

He wound down his window as they passed one group of people and they heard
French

being spoken. A little further up the road another group was speaking Flemish. When they

reached the circular driveway just in front of the main entrance he managed to squeeze
between

two cars and park along one side of the circle.

"Come on," he said, "lets take the girls in with us and see if there's any hope of
getting a

room or at least somewhere to clean up."

"I can't believe there will be anything," Stephanie said waking the girls. "Look at
these

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-256-

people. There are hundreds here and they all look lost."

They walked up the few front steps and into a small lobby that had a reception
counter at

the opposite end of the room. The floor, a few chairs and one sofa in the room as well as a
few

chairs in a small room off to the right were all filled with sleeping or half-asleep fully
dressed

people. From the conversation around them it became quickly apparent to both of them
that these

people had come from around Goma and further north in Kivu Province. Some of the talk
was

about the chaos at the border points where they had crossed. Many people had been
detained on
the Congo side. There was widespread mistreatment, families separated and many people
taken

away. Matt was thankful that he had made the decision to go the route they had taken in
spite of

the close calls they had experienced.

Carrying Lisa in one arm and holding Betsy's hand he walked up to the counter
with

Stephanie following closely behind with the sleeping Jenny in her arms. They had to step
around

and over a number of people who were lying and sitting on the floor. A very tired,
harassed

woman stood behind the counter trying to point out in English that there were no rooms
available

anywhere. A young English speaking man stood off to one side of the counter attempting
to

convey the same message to three other people.

They stood patiently until the woman had somehow convinced the man and
woman that

there was nothing to be done. She turned to them and took a deep breath. "I am terribly
sorry but

there are no rooms available. They were gone hours ago and I have no idea when any will
be free.

We are the only hotel in this whole area."

"Do you mind if we just rest awhile here in the lobby and then we'll be on our
way north to

Kampala?" Matt asked. "Also, how late can I buy gasoline down the road? I'll need to fill
up

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-257-
before we go."

"You're Americans!" she said in astonishment. "What are you doing here?" She
reached

down and caressed Betsy's hair, Betsy now leaning heavily on Matt, more asleep than
awake.

"We live in the Belgian Congo," Stephanie said. "My husband is with an
American

company there." She gestured around the room. "When did all this start?"

"Four days ago. Some of the stories these people are telling about what has
happened

back there. It's awful. A good many of them are looking for loved ones from whom they
have

become separated." She pointed at the sofa and said quickly, "Hurry... those people are
moving.

There's enough room for you, Madame, and the two girls. You, sir, can sit at her feet and
hold the

other little one."

They quickly walked over and sat down as she had suggested, the woman helping
them to

settle in.

"You can buy petrol all night. They're holding the station open in order to service
all the

refugees that are using the roads."

"Thank you." Matt said. "We'll just rest here for a little while and then we'll be on
our

way. You're very kind."

As the woman walked away he looked up at Stephanie. "If the rest of Uganda is
like this
and there is no immediate prospect of our being able to go back to Congo, we may have
to go on

to Nairobi.".

"What about Fritz? What about all of our household and personal effects?" She
knew as

well as he did that the chances of their belongings remaining unharmed were very slim,
but Fritz

was another matter.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-258-

"I'm sure Ali will make certain Fritz is well taken care of and come hell or high
water

somehow we'll get him back. As for the other things we'll just have to hope for the best.
The most

important thing is that we're all safe." He was feeling less and less certain about the safety
of

anything that was left inside Congo. "Now let's get some rest. We'll be in Kampala
tomorrow and

then we can look forward to seeing Harry and Natalie in Nairobi if it's necessary to go
on." He

reached up and softly brushed her dirt smeared face. "You are something else, Mandami
Miller.

You have an inner strength that's deceiving. It surfaces when it's needed most."

She smiled a very tired smile.

He turned and closed his eyes. 'How is it possible,' he thought, 'that I can love this
woman

so much and harbor a feeling for Monique that is so strong? Monique! I wonder where
she is right

now and if she's safe.'


----------------

He was still driving over the bumpy, winding roads. The muscles in his arms and
legs were

jerking from involuntary spasms, half wakening him each time it happened. Then he felt
someone

shaking his shoulder. Raising his head he looked up into the face of the woman who had
been

behind the counter.

"Wake your wife and all of you come with me,", she whispered.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"About 45 minutes. Now come along." she beckoned.

They followed the woman outside to a man who was standing beside a British
made

Landrover that was sitting in the circular driveway.

"This is Mr. Campbell," she said. Leaning toward Stephanie and Matt she lowered
her

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-259-

voice. "Some of the townspeople have taken in a few of the refugees. I phoned the
Campbells

after you arrived and they've agreed to put you up for the night."

"I'm afraid we only have field cots for you to sleep on," he smiled, "and they will
be set up

in our living and dining rooms. We have two children of our own and the house is quite
small."

"It will be wonderful." Stephanie said. "We can't thank you enough."

"Were very grateful. I'm Matt Miller and this is my wife Stephanie and these are
our

sleeping beauties, Betsy, Lisa and Jenny."

"Pleased to meet you. Would be nicer if it were under better circumstances. You
follow

me in your car. I live close to the center of town not too far from here."

They thanked the woman who had helped them and then followed the Rover
down the

winding road.

Later after the cots had been lined up in the middle of the combination dining and
living

room area they sat talking to the Campbells over hot cups of tea and scones that Janet
Campbell

had prepared for their arrival. The girls had been bathed and were again sound asleep.
Matt and

Stephanie felt wonderfully refreshed after their hot showers. It was now well after two in
the

morning.

Jock Campbell was the local District Commissioner representing the British
government

on matters concerning conservation and game preservation. He and Janet were slightly
older than

the Millers and had been living in Africa for three years. Their accent left no doubt that
they were

Scots.

The news coming out of Congo with the refugees and over the radio from all parts
of the

world was all bad. Some areas were worse than others with reports from Orientale
Province
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-260-

indicating that the situation there was worsening and that the atrocities being committed
were

matching and exceeding the worst that were being carried out anywhere, particularly in
and

around Stanleyville. Being well inside the Congo and a city with a sizable European
population it

had become a trap for many. Some had escaped into the bush and were being hunted
down like

animals. Matt thought of Kurt Wagemans and hoped he was safe. Thank God he had sent
his

family to Belgium long ago.

Border posts were jammed and The United Nations was calling for volunteer
troops from

various countries to provide policing action. Belgium was sending military units to
protect

airports and some principal routes of escape to assist in the mass exodus. There were
countless

stories of horror and heroism.

"All of Uganda is a madhouse," Jock said. "Thousands of refugees are filling the
roads and

towns. The blacks in East Africa resent the fact that more whites are pouring from the
Congo into

Uganda, Tanganyika and now even further east into Kenya. As you know they are all
preparing

for their independence and they want no more whites here, especially from such a
troubled place

as the Congo. They are beginning to show some open hostility toward the refugees."

"I noticed that from the petrol station attendant here in town," Matt said. "Have
there

been any troubles here? I mean blacks against whites."

"Not since Mau Mau. Now if we can only get them into independence in a
reasonably

orderly fashion. However, it's the same story here with the white settlers. Second and
third

generations are being told to turn over everything they have lived and worked for to the
blacks,

some of the developed land being where no black man had ever lived before. The white
man came

and brought the black man to work it for him."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-261-

"Sounds familiar," Matt said. "The native will say that since he worked the land
and helped

construct everything and it's his continent by rights all that is here belongs to him."

"I know the line," Jock said. "And it's an argument the white man is bound to lose.

Unfortunately in losing that argument in some parts of Africa so soon it leaves the poor
black

with nothing but a bunch of problems that seem pretty near insurmountable.

"By the way," Jock continued, "do you know anyone in Kampala?"

"No. I plan to phone our Nairobi office from there to let them know we're safe and
that

we're coming. If we can't find a place to stay in Kampala tomorrow night we'll just have
to drive

on to Nairobi."

"It's a good full day's drive, nonstop, and you have the good part of a day's drive
from
here to Kampala." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Let me make a couple of calls from
my

wireless shack in back. Now how about the two of you getting to bed. You look bushed."

Jock had told them that next morning he would take Matt to a Greek merchant
that he

knew in town that was buying Congolese Francs for East African currency. It would cost
him a

considerable premium but he had the best rate in town. The merchant had a brother in
Congo who

could use the Francs.

In spite of having gone to bed late they wakened early next morning to a good,
hearty

breakfast of fresh fruit, cereal, eggs, bacon and homemade biscuits. Jock informed them
that some

friends in government were going to attempt to get them a room at the Grand Hotel in
Kampala.

They could not guarantee anything but they would try. Matt knew the hotel. It was the
largest and

had the best accommodations to offer in the city. If they were lucky they would be able to
stay

there that night, continuing on to Nairobi the following day.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-262-

After breakfast Matt went with Jock to purchase the currency. It cost him 40
percent

more than normal but he had no choice. He needed gas and food for the trip, all of which
he

purchased after obtaining the exchange. After doing their utmost to express their heartfelt
thanks,
by midmorning the Millers were on their way northeast to Kampala.

The road was still dirt but was a vast improvement over that which they had
driven over

so far. Now they passed large herds of zebra, some giraffe and many species of antelope
grazing

on the savanna around them. The sun was warm, but at altitudes ranging from 4,000 to

5,000 feet the heat was not uncomfortable. Scattered umbrella-like trees dotted the
landscape.

As they drove rapidly through the towns and villages the natives jeered and
shouted

threats. Stephanie clearly understood the Swahili that some were speaking and they left
no doubt

about what they wanted. 'Go back to Congo!' Matt wished that he had different license
plates on

the car and that the car had right hand drive. In these British controlled areas all driving
was on

the left side of the road. It would have made no sense but he felt like shouting back at
them 'we're

not refugees! - We're Americans!'

It was early afternoon when they passed through Masaka, a town about the same
size as

Mbarara. It marked the halfway point to Kampala. It too was full of refugees. He bought
gasoline

and they continued driving toward Kampala, eating as they drove. He wanted to get there
as

much before dark as possible in the event Jock's attempt to get them a room did not work
out.

They skirted the northwestern edge of huge Lake Victoria following the road that wound
up and
down the hills that bordered the lake. It was so immense that the lake gave the impression
that

one was looking out over a vast ocean. There was nothing but water as far as the eye
could see.

That day's destination, the capital city of Kampala, was situated close to it's northern
shore. This

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-263-

great inland sea covering 26,828 square miles rested at 3,720 feet above sea level. With a

population of over 400,000 Kampala was the largest city in Uganda.

When they pulled up in front of the Grand Hotel it was late afternoon. The park
just

opposite the hotel was teeming with people and except for a few curious onlookers they
were all

refugees. There was a long line of very tired looking people of all ages leading from the
entrance

of the hotel all the way down and around the block. He quickly found a place to park.

"You and the girls wait here. I'm going to do as Jock said," pointing to an
envelope in his

hand.

He got out of the car and walked past the line of people and up the few steps to the

counter just inside the door. Two very weary looking women were doing their best to

communicate with the distraught people in front of them.

"Pardon me," he said in loud clear English, "is Mr. Fenton here? I have a message
for

him." He waved the envelope in front of his face.

Half turning one of the women leaned back through the door just behind her. "Mr.
Fenton,
there's a gentleman here with a message for you."

A well dressed man emerged and Matt handed him the note. "I'm Matthew Miller.
Jock

Campbell in Mbarara sent us to you."

"Oh yes, Mr. Miller!" he said opening up the envelope and glancing at it's
contents. "I'm

glad you're here. Much later and I'm afraid I would not have been able to hold the room
any

longer."

"You mean you do have something for us?"

"I understand you are a family of five," he smiled. "I'll send a boy to help with the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-264-

luggage."

Shortly they were in a very large corner room on the second floor overlooking the
park.

Extra beds had been moved in for the girls but the room was so large that they had more
than

enough space to move about easily. The girls were already splashing away in the bathtub.

"Thank God for Jock Campbell," Stephanie said as she unpacked clean clothes for

everyone. "They were such beautiful people. How can we ever thank them. We must send
them a

gift as soon as possible."

"When we get to Nairobi," Matt said. "Speaking of Nairobi, I'm going to phone
Harry.

Then we'll go down to dinner, get a good night's sleep and be fresh for the drive to
Nairobi
tomorrow. It's a long way but I understand most of the road is surfaced. Fortunately I
don't think

we'll need to use the draft that Ali gave us. With the amount of shillings I bought in
Mbarara I

know we'll have more than enough to last us until we get to Nairobi."

Harry and Natalie Callaghan had become close friends of Stephanie and Matt
during their

staff trainee days at U.S. headquarters. Harry was a big, burly ex-University of Michigan
football

lineman and although almost three times the size of Natalie he was putty in her hands.
His gruff

manner barely concealed the sympathetic, kind person that existed under the tough
looking

Irish-American exterior.

Almost two hours after he had placed the call it finally came through.

"Harry?! This is Matt Miller!"

"Matt! Where the hell are you? Are Stephanie and the girls with you..., is
everyone OK?"

"Were all fine! I'm calling from the Grand Hotel in Kampala. We got here about
four

hours ago."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-265-

"We've been worried sick! Everybody has been on the lookout for you. I think
everyone at

head office U.S.A. has cabled or telephoned wanting to know if we'd heard anything
about you."

"Harry!" Matt shouted, "we'll be driving to Nairobi tomorrow. We'll tell you about
everything then. How do we get to your house?"

"Just drive to the front of the New Stanley Hotel in the center of the city.
Everyone knows

were the hotel is. There are phones across the street. Call from there and we'll come to get
you.

Natalie is standing next to me and I think she's going to turn inside out she's so happy
you're all

safe. She sends her love."

"Tell her thanks and we send our love to all of you. We'll see you very late
tomorrow

night."

"We'll be waiting with a large pitcher of my most famous martinis no matter how
late it

is!"

"Harry - just remember one thing after we get there."

"What's that?"

"Please don't call us refugees. As far as you people are concerned we're American

tourists."

There was a loud laugh at the other end. "Just get your ass here safely, that's all
that

matters. I'll think of something to call you before you get here."

"One very important thing before we hang up, Harry. Any news of the others that
are with

our company in Congo?"

"Nothing! But when I send the cable first thing in the morning to tell them about
you I'll

ask. If it wasn't Sunday I'd phone them now."


F. William Jung/KATANGA
-266-

"Thanks, Harry. We'll see you all tomorrow night."

The street was deserted when they pulled up in front of the bank of telephones
across

from the New Stanley Hotel entrance. It was close to midnight but the girls were wide
awake as

they had been since they approached the city from the northwest. The orange lights along
the

paved roadway leading down into the sprawling city was their first look at Nairobi. The

excitement of seeing such a metropolis after almost two years of nothing more than small
villages,

towns and bush country kept them wide awake.

Within twenty minutes of Matt's call Harry and Natalie were there. There was a

tumultuous welcome in the middle of the street. They had left their son and daughter at
home and

they would see them in the morning.

Later, after the girls were in bed, the four of them sat facing each other over a
huge

pitcher of the promised martinis, Callaghan style. Each of them raised their glass without

speaking.

When Stephanie and Matt crawled into bed in one of the guest rooms of the
Callaghan's

spacious house the martinis had done their job. The Congo and the experiences of the last
few

days seemed as a dream.


F. William Jung/KATANGA
-267-

CHAPTER 11

Reading the cable quickly Harry then handed it to Matt who had been gazing out
the

window at the bustling afternoon traffic along Delamare Avenue below:

Tell Millers everyone happy and pleased they safe stop All Elisabethville personnel and
families safe in Ndola and Kitwe Rhodesia except Marcel Ivanov whose whereabouts
unknown stop All Leopoldville staff safe across river in Brazzaville stop Albert Fouquet
slightly injured but not serious stop Have no news whereabouts Kurt
Wagemans Stanleyville stop Miller temporarily assigned East African branch
until Congo situation clearer stop Agree wholeheartedly ten days rest
on coast stop Also supply them funds for needed clothing and personal effects stop
Under no circumstance repeat under no circumstance is Miller to return Congo without
prior approval from me regards Kirkland.

Matt looked up from the cable at Harry. "What is this ten days rest on the coast?"

"What the hell," Harry replied turning away, "we need some help in Mombasa
with some

large accounts. You can take the family and rest for a week or so, then do some work for
us. It's a

great trip by train and the kids will be crazy about the beaches along the Indian Ocean.
It'll give

you and Stephanie a chance to unwind. Then you can come back here and get caught up
in the

social whirl of Nairobi."

"I'm looking forward to working with you, Harry, but I've got to keep pointing
toward

getting back into Congo as soon as possible. Both the company and Stephanie and I have
a hell of

a lot at stake back there."

"To hell with that! You just barely managed to save your asses and you're already
talking

about going back! You saw the cable. No-go until it's approved!"

"There's another member of the family still back there," Matt said.

"What! Who?"

"Our dog, Fritz." Matt told him what had happened. Harry and Natalie had two
dogs of

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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their own and would understand how they felt.

The big man slammed his fist down so hard on his desk that it startled everyone in
the

office. "By God," he roared, "we're going to charter a bloody plane and fly in and get
him!"

"He's in good hands for now," Matt said laying his hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's
just a

shame that I didn't know they have no quarantine period for bringing pets into East
Africa. But as

I told Stephanie, we'll get him out of there no matter what it takes."

They took the overnight train from Nairobi southeast to the coast and Mombasa,
Kenya's

major port on the Indian Ocean. As Harry predicted the train ride proved relaxing. Matt
and

Stephanie agreed to do their best to forget Congo for the next ten days.

Most of the trip would be in darkness. After a well served, appetizing dinner in
the crisply

clean dining car the girls were in their bunks in an adjoining private compartment
playing, unable

to go to sleep because of the excitement of taking the train trip. Stephanie and Matt read
themselves to sleep as the train bumped along toward welcome respite.

As the train pulled into Mombasa early the next morning they were all up and
watching

parts of the city pass by. They had already eaten breakfast, with Betsy having acquired a
taste for

kippers since their arrival in Kenya three days before. She was continuously attempting to
interest

the rest of the family into trying them but with the exception of Matt she met with no
success.

They stayed at the Oceanic Hotel situated right at the mouth of the channel
leading into

Mombasa harbor. Although they could not swim in the ocean at that point a swimming
pool at the

ocean's edge and a small pitch-and-putt golf course added to the much needed rest and
relaxation.

The Oceanic was the best hotel in the area and the pool-side snack bar as well as the
excellent

restaurants in the city saw a lot of the Miller family. The food in the area was heavily
accented

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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toward Asian and Oriental, their taste for curried foods being rapidly satisfied.

They took three days out of the ten and drove north along the coast to Malindi, an
old

Arab slave trading port that had the widest, most dazzling white beaches they had ever
seen. The

water was very shallow for hundreds of yards out into the clear blue-green waters. The
only flaw

was the prohibition to wade out too far because of the danger of sharks.
They stayed in a small, well furnished hotel just a few yards off the lovely beach.
The

buildings, decor and food in this area were definitely Middle East, since descendants of
Arab slave

traders made up the greater part of the population. They had rented a small Hillman
Husky station

wagon to make the trip. At Kilifi on the road north they had to cross an inlet of the Indian
Ocean

aboard an old wooden plank ferry that was pulled along by ropes strung across the water,
a

method used by Matt many times to ford streams in the Congo. There were lost slave
trading

villages and towns in the bush along the way, many overgrown by the jungle a long time
ago.

They visited one such village that had been discovered just recently and was in the
process of

being uncovered.

Matt spent the last three days in Mombasa working with the people in the
company branch

calling on some of the larger accounts. Then, ten days after having left they flew back to
Nairobi

on East African Airways, well rested but apprehensive about what was ahead of them.
Matt knew

that he had to return to Congo as soon as it was safe. He had to recover and protect
company and

personal belongings as well as somehow get something back that the whole family
thought about

constantly. Fritz! Matt and Stephanie could not bring themselves to say it but they knew
that if Ali

had left the area as the others had, their beloved little dog would have no one to care for
and feed

him and he would surely die.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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During the ten days on the coast they had kept themselves informed regarding

developments in the Congo. Matt contacted Harry daily and the newspapers and radio
were full of

news about the continuing troubles. United Nations' troops made up of Tunisians, Irish,

Canadians, Swedes and Moroccans were being assembled and sent to all parts of the
Congo in an

attempt to bring the chaos and atrocities to an end. Word had come from the head office
in The

States that there was still no news of Kurt Wagemans or Marcel Ivanov. There was no one
either

inside or outside the Congo who they could contact for help in locating them. Kurt's
family in

Belgium was frantic as were Marcel's Mother and Father. All of the company's other
personnel

remained safe in Brazzaville, Kitwe and Ndola and were waiting to return to Congo once
it was

again safe to do so. It was hoped that with the arrival of the U.N. troops it would be
possible.

Matt was continuously reminded by both head office U.S.A. and Harry Callaghan that he
was not

to return without first receiving approval.

Upon their return to Nairobi they moved into the Norfolk Hotel and Matt became
deeply

involved in working with Harry's operation. As Harry had indicated they soon found that
Nairobi
was a city that was very active socially. Almost nightly there were dinners and receptions
either in

someone's home, in a restaurant or in a club. Weekends were filled with lawn parties,
golf, cricket

or rugby. The Callaghans were well known and had a reputation for being gracious hosts
and

many of the events took place in their home. Harry's subsidiary company was very
successful and

the positive affects of Matt's contributions were felt almost immediately.

After two weeks in the Norfolk Hotel the Millers decided to move to a Lodge
outside

Nairobi surrounded by the Nairobi game reserve. The rooms were much larger and
provided more

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-271-

space for the children to move about. At night they would listen to the sounds of the
animals close

to and around the lodge. It was not uncommon to be startled in the middle of the night by
the roar

of a lion close by, but the lodge was well protected by security fence and barriers. Often
at night

when driving back to the lodge they would find their way blocked by a herd of giraffe
with only

their tall spindly legs visible in the lights of the car ahead, their bodies and long necks
somewhere

above in the blackness of the night. The lodge owners were very kind and made them all
feel as

though they were part of the family.

The three weeks had gone by rapidly. Matt had been to the U.S. Consulate a
number of

times in an attempt to find out about conditions in Bukavu and Kivu Province but without

success. As with the embassies and consulates of other countries that bordered the Congo,
the

U.S. Consulate was always crowded with refugees from Congo. Even though they were
almost

entirely made up of Belgian citizens the refugees were desperately trying everywhere to
find a

new country to which they could go to start a new life, or were attempting to obtain news
about

conditions in Congo in the hope they could return. Many were frantically searching for
news of

loved ones from whom they had become separated in the mad rush to escape.

Rapid changes were taking place in the Congo. With the arrival of United Nations
troops

some calm was slowly being restored. A few refugees began to filter back and Matt
received word

that Consolidated's people in Brazzaville and Ndola were preparing to return. Because of

Bukavu's isolated location, unlike the major centers of Elisabethville and Leopoldville
there were

no clear lines of communication or U.S. Consulate through which they could be kept
informed.

Matt continued to be prohibited from reentering.

In the newly declared Republic of Katanga Moise Tshombe was receiving


mounting

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-272-

support from Belgian economic interests both inside and outside Congo, their eyes on the
mineral
riches within Katanga's borders. Those interests harbored the hope that they could hold
on to this

most valuable province of all. Tshombe immediately set about organizing his own army
headed by

white mercenaries of all nationalities, including former Colons. The usual number of
adventurers

and professional soldiers of fortune came, either of their own accord or as a result of
being

recruited through clandestine offices financed and set up around the world.

The border between the Republic of the Congo and the unrecognized Republic of
Katanga

was closed and no direct travel or communication between the two existed. Circuitous
routing

was required through other countries to get from one to the other. Many whites,
particularly

those who had been living in Leopoldville, were moving to Katanga. It was clear that
there would

be continued chaos in Congo for some time to come in spite of efforts by The United
Nations,

but in Katanga stability was rapidly returning with the help of many whites working
behind the

scenes. Many companies were quickly relocating their head offices from Leopoldville to

Elisabethville leaving only skeleton staffs behind. The decision had been made by
Consolidated to

do the same.

The secession of Katanga was not being sanctioned by most of the world and
steps were

underway in The United Nations and elsewhere to force them back into the new Congo.
Tshombe
and his supporters all vowed to fight to the end to 'resist the forces of communism that
now

controlled the Republic of the Congo'. Patrice Lumumba was the hated enemy whose
support

came directly from Russia. Those who were sympathizing with Tshombe and his
followers were

preparing to make Katanga viable and stable to prove to the world that it's existence as a
separate

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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country was justifiable and right. They also knew that without this Province, the Republic
of the

Congo had no hope of surviving.

On July 31st the Nairobi English language newspaper, "The Nation", headlined a
story of

special interest to Stephanie and Matt.

FLARE-UP ON KIVU FRONTIER


Brussels, Saturday, July 31, 1960

Mutinous troops of the Congo Force Publique entered the Belgian-protected territory
of Ruanda-Urundi and were driven off by Belgian parachute
commandos, it was reported here today.
The mutineers entered the territory at the frontier town of Goma, Kivu Province, but
were driven off without loss to the Belgian troops. A few minutes
later, at Kisenyi, Goma's 'twin town' just across the border in Ruanda-
Urundi, Belgian troops intervened in a scuffle between Africans. The
Africans panicked when the Belgians fired in the air and the populations of Goma and
Kisenyi abandoned the towns. The Belgians withdrew into Ruanda-Urundi and
the Africans to Congolese territory. The Irish Republic battalion which has
joined The United Nations forces in the Congo has been posted to Goma
but it was not known if they were involved. The commander of the Force
Publique at Goma cabled his headquarters in Stanleyville that his garrison had been
attacked by Belgian troops. The situation was also tense at Bukavu
where the European headquarters staff was no longer in control of the
Force Publique.
Tension was increased by the arrival of several hundred unarmed soldiers from
Ruanda-Urundi and Katanga who were refusing to be demobilized and
sent back to their homes. The provincial government fearing that crowds of
unemployed would invade Bukavu, ordered police to patrol the town.
Policemen were stopping and searching cars for arms. Patrols of soldiers of the Force
Publique were guarding the road from Goma to Rutshuru in the north of the
province. They, too, were stopping cars and searching them and were
holding Europeans.
At Kasongo the last Europeans have left the neighborhood. Plantation workers told
them that a column of mutineers was heading for the area to 'kill the
whites'. In Leopoldville the Congolese Government decided to form a
restricted Cabinet in the absence of Premier Patrice Lumumba who is visiting
Russia, to work closely with UN Secretary- General Dag Hammarskjold. Mr.
Hammarskjold reportedly told the Cabinet that UN troops could not act in
Katanga, being pacification troops and not offensive elements. This attitude
caused deep disappointment to the tough wing of the Cabinet.
Meanwhile, the steering committee of the 'Kalonji' faction of the divided National
Congolese Movement today sharply attacked Mr. Lumumba, who leads the
rival faction. The Kalonji followers said Lumumba had 'brought anarchy
to the Congo, provoking unemployment of a frightening extent'.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-274-

In Moscow, the Soviet news agency, Tass, reported that Lumumba had told it's
correspondent in Washington that the Soviet Union was "the only power to have
supported the Congo people from the very outset".

A few days after receiving news that United Nations troops had arrived in the
Bukavu

area, Matt and Stephanie miraculously received a letter from Michel Watermans, the
manager of

the bank branch that they used in Bukavu. Michel and his wife had become close friends.

Mr & Mrs M Miller Bukavu, August 6, 1960


NORFOLK HOTEL
P.O.B. 64
NAIROBI (Kenya)

Dear Matt and Family,

As you can see from this letter we (I mean my wife and myself) returned to Bukavu after
a well deserved vacation in Europe.
We left Brussels on July 8, exactly at the moment that the first alarming news from
Congo came through. We were in a D.C.7 and came over via Frankfurt, Athens and
Usumbura. There were no female personnel on board of the plane, only men. When
arriving at Usumbura we could immediately see that everything was wrong, but we were
lucky enough to have the last regular
plane to Bukavu.

When arriving at the Bank on Saturday 9th July everything was upside down and all the
whites seemed to have lost their heads. They all feared the invasion the same day of the
'mutins' but it did not come as far as that, although the next days were more than
enervating. There were alarming signs every day, and I am glad you had left, specially for
the wife and the kids.

I went to see your house a few times and as far as I could see from the outside, everything
seems O.K. If this proves true you are lucky because numerous houses have been
completely looted. The emplacement of your house at this moment is favorable because
the UNO troops (Irishmen) are located at the premises of the Athenee. Since they arrived
the situation in general is more calm. But the days preceding their arrival we all suffered
morally more than necessary. The 'mutins' occupied the post office, nobody could have
access to his box, they arrested the people in the streets and on the roads to Ruanda-
Urundi, and took their money away, so to say to prevent the people to take their money to
Ruanda-Urundi, etc. etc.
I obtained your address from Mr. Lenoir who said he had received a note from you
stating that you had arrived in Nairobi safely. As things stand now only a few whites
remain in Bukavu, and the people of the government administration have all left. Bukavu
is absolutely dead. If you do

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-275-

decide to come back to Bukavu before, as I recall, your home leave in October, I think it
is advisable in any case not to bring Stephanie and the children.
Very sincerely,
Michel Watermans

On the strength of Michel's letter Matt decided he could now take a chance and
reenter

Congo.

Matt reread the copy of the cable he had just sent to head office, U.S.A.:

Returning alone to Bukavu August 15 via same route used in exiting stop family
remaining Kenya until return Nairobi September 7 stop in accordance with instructions
will visit U.S. Consulate Kampala in attempt obtain information re conditions en route
and in and around Bukavu stop also per instructions if any doubts exist re conditions or
lack information will return Nairobi regards Miller

As he finished reading it Harry's secretary handed him a copy of a second cable


addressed

to Albert Fouquet at Consolidated's Elisabethville address. It read the same as the one
sent to The

States except that he had added a paragraph:

Expect remain Bukavu two weeks in order assess and handle company and personal
affairs
stop as you request will then attempt proceed Elisabethville via Usumbura for one week
stop since our home leave U.S.A. due October I have been instructed by head office USA
to depart Nairobi with family sometime last half September regards Jung

"Thank you, Louise." He turned and looked out the office window across
Delamare at the

gleaming white buildings of old colonial architecture that had tastefully been interspersed
with

modern high rise offices. This was a city and a country that he and his family had come to
know

and love in a relatively short period of time.

He had had a difficult time convincing head office and Harry that he should and
could

return to Congo. The others had now all returned to Leopoldville and Elisabethville and
in spite of

Bukavu's isolation he felt concerned about the fact that he had not yet returned. Kurt
Wagemans

had surfaced in Uganda, having escaped through the vast Ituri Forest over seldom used
roads. He

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-276-

was safe and was also waiting for the right moment to return. The news from Orientale
Province

continued to be bad in spite of the fact that the presence of United Nations troops in the
larger

cities had brought a degree of calm, slight as it was. But the more isolated villages, towns
and

bush country where there were inhabitants, black and white, were still the sites of
continuing

atrocities.

The biggest problem had been convincing Stephanie that what he was doing was
safe and

necessary. She had been dead set against his going, but he had promised her that if there
was any

question in the minds of the people at the U.S. Consulate as to whether conditions were
safe

enough to return, he would not go. It was felt that since Kampala was closer to Congo
and that

Uganda had absorbed the bulk of the refugees they would undoubtedly have more up to
date

information than that which was available in Nairobi. Matt doubted this, but it was a
condition

that had been agreed and insisted upon. He would phone them from Kampala as soon as
he had

visited the Consulate.

There was another mission that he would carry out on his way back to Congo. It
was one

reason why he had decided to drive back over the same long, torturous route they had
used to

escape. There was a little black dog he had to find in the town of Kigali in northern

Ruanda-Urundi.
His plan was to depart Nairobi shortly after midnight on the 15th to assure his
arrival in

Kampala in the afternoon of the same day, barring any unforeseen delays. That would
give him

the opportunity to visit the Consulate that same afternoon. If all appeared safe he would
then go

to the Grand Hotel, phone Stephanie and then get a few hours rest, departing Kampala
just after

midnight. Now that he knew the route he estimated that he could reach Kigali where Fritz
was

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-277-

hopefully still alive by late afternoon of the same morning of his departure from
Kampala. It

meant hard driving but he had to do it in order to accomplish the next and most difficult
leg of his

trip.

He would attempt to drive from Kigali to Bukavu immediately after picking up


Fritz,

stopping only to replenish the gas tanks from the Jerry cans. He was going to carry two
extra cans

to make certain he had enough. He would take enough sandwiches and coffee to eat and
drink as

he drove, something to which he had become accustomed since his arrival in Africa.

He said good-bye to the office staff, all of them wishing him a safe trip and
assuring him

that they would watch out for Stephanie and the girls. Hearing the good-byes Harry came
out of

his office.
"Come on, let's go home to lunch with the families. Then you can head for the
lodge to

pack and get some rest. You're going to need it." They walked to the door. "Honestly,
Matt, I

don't think you should go. You know those bastards at the Consulate won't know what the
hell

they're talking about. You'll get nothing but a bunch of bullshit from them."

"I really think it will be OK, Harry, otherwise you can bet I wouldn't risk it.
Promise me

you won't say anything in front of Stephanie and make it tougher?"

"I promise," he growled, "but it's against my better judgment."

Stephanie and Matt had stayed close to each other through lunch and later at the
lodge

while he was packing. They constantly reached for each other's hands, glancing at each
other and

attempting to smile reassuringly. He would watch her when she was not looking, and
when she

would catch him doing it she would squeeze his hand or walk up to him and put her arms
around

him.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-278-

There was nothing more to be discussed. They had talked it out over and over
again.

Many times the language and tone bordered on an anger that was foreign to their
relationship.

Each appreciated and understood the other's position and reasoning, but Matt's would
prevail. In

any case, as he had said a number of times, it would only be three weeks and then he
would be

back. They could then begin preparations for their home leave trip. They would spend ten
days en-

route, stopping in Athens, Rome, Paris and London. Then two months home leave in The
United States

which would include the usual two weeks at head office for consultations, medical
checkups and

updating inoculations and vaccinations for the whole family.

"Will you be seeing all of the company people when you get to Elisabethville?"
she asked.

"All except the Assistant Controller from Leopoldville, Lenart Proell. He stayed
on in Leo

to head up the skeleton staff that was left behind to manage our bank accounts and keep
an eye on

our main warehouse inventories. I'm not certain whether Kurt Wagemans will be there.
Other than

those two, everyone should be there now that it's functioning as the head office of the
Congo

subsidiary."

"What about...," she paused almost imperceptibly, "the wives and... uh... families?
Are

they all there?"

Matt was busy packing and did not notice the guarded manner in which she had
asked the

question. "I'm certain that all of them will have taken their families with them, at least
those that

haven't sent them out of the country as so many others did."

"And Albert, Jason and... Marcel are already there with their wives?" She busied
herself
with one of his suitcases without looking at him.

"Yes. Albert's not married of course, but Jason's wife and Monique..." he looked at
her

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-279-

sharply, "Monique must be there." His face flushed and he quickly looked back to his
packing. It

seemed as though the temperature in the room had gone up several degrees in a matter of

seconds.

'What the hell is wrong with me,' he thought. 'Those were just innocent, natural
questions.

She seemed just as interested in knowing if the others would be there. She didn't mention

Monique's name, I did!'

He regained his composure, certain that she had not noticed any change They
continued

packing in silence.

It was close to one o'clock in the morning. He had said good-bye to the girls
before they

had gone to bed the night before and now he stood at the door, his arms around
Stephanie. She

was dressed in a nightgown and robe.

"I'll send you the cable a few days before I leave E'ville to confirm my arrival
time," he

said softly. "Three weeks. It will go by fast and then to The States. Natalie and Harry
have lots of

things planned for you and the girls to do while I'm gone. You take care of yourself." He
kissed

her. "You're all mine, Mrs. Miller, and you always will be. Take good care of what's mine
- you

hear?"

She fought to hold back the tears. "Remember, if the people at the Consulate have
any

doubts, you turn around and come back! Promise?!" she demanded.

"I promise."

She knew that the chance of his being turned back because of what they would
say was

very slim no matter what they would tell him about conditions in Congo.

"I love you, Matt. I couldn't go on without you. Life would have no meaning or
reason.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-280-

Please be careful."

They held each other tightly - and then he was gone.

-------------------

Although the appointment had been made for 1:30PM it was now almost three
o'clock.

The receptionist at the Consulate entrance had confirmed that the appointment had been
made the

previous week by Harry's secretary. Matt was now waiting in a small room just behind
the

reception room. The secretary just opposite him had said that Mr. Cartwright was tied up
and

would be with him shortly.

He was anxious to get this over, knowing already what his decision would be.
That is
unless he would be surprised and find Mr. Cartwright had factual information of a sort
that left no

doubt that he should not go back to Congo. He felt, however, that this would not be the
case

based on past experience.

He glanced at his watch. Three o'clock! He was just about to ask the receptionist
to

inform Cartwright of the urgency of the matter when two men came in from the entrance
room

outside.

"Next time we'll try the Karachi," the tall, thin middle-aged blond said to the other
man.

"They have excellent fish-head curry. See you later!"

They both went through the double doors behind and to the left of the secretary.
Matt

decided to wait a little longer.

Fifteen more minutes had gone by when the secretary picked up her phone in
answer to it's

buzz. "Oh yes, there's a Mr. Miller to see you. Yes, he does have an appointment." She
placed it

back on the hook and looked at Matt. "You can go in now. First door on the left."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-281-

Following the woman's instruction he walked into the designated office. Behind
the desk

facing the door was the tall blond. He was speaking on the telephone.

"OK. I'll see you at five. I reserved the court for five-thirty. Gives us time for a
quick
drink," he laughed.

Matt patiently stood in front of the desk while the man continued his conversation
about a

tennis match he had apparently won the evening before. Finally, and seemingly very
much

unconcerned about the man standing in front of him, he hung up. "What can I do for you,
Mr...,

er... Mr...." He was shuffling through a pile of papers on his desk.

"Miller! Matthew Miller! Can I sit down?" There was more than just a touch of
irritation

in his voice.

"Oh yes. Sit down."

"You enjoy your luncheon?" Matt asked.

"What? How did you... Oh! You were sitting in the reception room when we came
in. It

was delicious."

Matt glared at the man, hardly able to control himself. He was livid with rage.

"Yes. I was sitting in the reception room right where I've been sitting since just
after one

o'clock! I decided to forego my own lunch until after our one-thirty appointment was
over, having

driven all the way from Nairobi to keep it!" His reference to the appointment and the
drive from

Nairobi was spoken in a slow, deliberate manner, leaving no doubt as to his mood.

"You drove in from Nairobi today?" He registered only mild surprise. "I thought
possibly

you would have come in yesterday..., or something."

"Irrespective of when I arrived - or something - or the distance I traveled to get


here, our

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-282-

appointment was set for one-thirty, not three-fifteen!"

"Now look here, Mr .... uh... Mr...."

"Miller. The name, again, is Miller, and I've already wasted too much time at your
hands.

Time that I'm sure will prove to be a hell of a lot more valuable than the information I've
come to

get from you." Ignoring Cartwright'a stammering Matt continued. "I am in the process of

reentering northern Ruanda-Urundi and then will go on into Bukavu in eastern Congo.
I've been

instructed to find out from you what conditions are like there before proceeding." Matt
fell silent

and sat staring at the shaken Cartwright.

"Well..., we..., find it extremely difficult to get factual information about


conditions there.

There are so many conflicting stories."

"What information do you have?"

"Well..., none..., really, but no news is good news," he giggled nervously.

Matt continued to glare at the man as he slowly got up from the chair. Placing his
hands

on the desk he leaned menacingly over it toward him. Cartwright leaned as far back in his
chair as

it would permit.

"Why do I repeatedly waste my time, as so many thousands of others do, looking


to you
people for assistance in the very matters that are supposedly the reason for your
existence? There

are some few exceptions, but attempts to enlist help in the expansion of U.S. business
abroad

through facilities that are costing the U.S. citizen billions in taxes only consistently
proves to

those of us who are involved how ill-informed and out of touch you are. The same thing
applies

when looking to you for assistance in other matters for which these posts were created.'

"Now look here..."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-283-

"Just what the hell besides vacationing, eating, tennis, golf, taking care of
junketing

politicians and partying do you people do? Just to the west of here we have the greatest
calamity

occurring in all of Africa, possibly the world, and you don't have a clue what's going on!
What's

happening there will dramatically affect this continent and the rest of the world, and if not
handled

correctly we'll sure as hell be left out while all of Africa engulfs itself in perpetual chaos
and

destruction."

"Mr. Miller! I resent what you are saying," Cartwright screeched. "Here we are -
living

thousands of miles from home - sacrificing, giving up..."

"Giving up what?!" Matt roared. "Christ - you haven't left The States! You want to
know

what giving up is? Look at the expatriate U.S. business people around the world! They
don't have

U.S. Commissary or post Exchange privileges that make all the material things that exist
Stateside

- food, clothing, everything - available to you at cost and tax-free! Where none are
around, which

is unique in most of the world, arrangements are made through diplomatic channels for
you to get

them. You people really don't live outside The United States! Even your social activities
are

confined to the American communities you create!"

He straightened up, and as he did Cartwright flinched as though afraid that Matt
was going

to strike him. "And when there are catastrophes or anything that represents danger you
and that

fabulous group back in Washington only care about saving your own asses. You don't
give a

damn about the safety or welfare of other U.S. citizens, the very people who foot the
horrendous

costs each of you represents. They endure conditions and circumstances that you people
wouldn't

put up with for one second. It's a damn good thing some of you are dedicated. Our only
problem

is that your type keeps us away."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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He turned and walked through the door, leaving the sputtering Consulate officer
sitting

behind his desk.

It was just after midnight when he pulled away from the entrance to the hotel into
the

darkened and deserted street in the direction of the south side of Kampala en route to his
first gas

stop, Kigali. Barring any unforeseen delays he estimated that he would reach there
sometime

between midmorning and noon. Hopefully he would find Fritz safe and sound, and
quickly. Then

he would drive into the rocky, winding, mountainous roads to Bukavu. He would arrive
there

long after dark with no idea of what he would find.

He had phoned Stephanie shortly after arriving at the hotel from the Consulate
and told

her that they had said no bad news was being received from the Bukavu area. As a result
he was

going on. He had asked her to tell Harry so that he could cable head office that their
instructions

had been followed.

Shortly after 11:OOAM he drove up in front of Ali's shop in Kigali. As he parked


beside

the gas pumps he noticed the windows and door of the store were shuttered. There were
two

blacks standing at the corner of the building watching him, neither of them making a
move to wait

on him. He had seen only two whites since driving into town. They had both been
standing on the

porch of the Gendarmerie, the police station, and they had watched him curiously as he
drove by.

So far he had not experienced any delays en route. He had sighted only two groups of
Force

Publique and they had paid no attention to him. He stepped from the car and walked up to
the

two natives.

"Monsieur Ali. Ou est Monsieur Ali?"

They may not have understood French but they recognized the name. One of them
replied

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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in Swahili, waving his arms to emphasize what he was saying. "Bwana gone many days
ago!"

Matt understood enough Swahili to make out what he was saying and haltingly
tried to

make himself understood in the language.

"How many days gone?"

The black touched his chin and gazed thoughtfully at the sky for a few moments.
"Ten -

maybe fifteen days."

"When come back?"

"Don't know. Not say, but took many things by truck so maybe gone for a long
time."

"Where is... where is...?" Matt was stymied. He could not think of the Swahili
word for

dog. They looked at him curiously. "Where is...," and he leaned down and drew an outline
in the

dirt of a figure that looked as close to a dog as he could make it. Then he barked, "Arf!
Arf!"

It startled them and they stepped back as if to bolt and run.

"Wait... wait! Don't leave! Where is small black...?" and he pointed to the crude
drawing again.
They both looked at him suspiciously and then a look of recognition appeared on
the one

man's face and he broke into a broad grin.

"You search for little animal?"

"Yes... yes! Where is he?"

He beckoned for Matt to follow him and started around the side of the shop back
toward

Ali's house. He was walking a few paces behind when the native stopped and turned to
him

pointing down in back of the house to an old half-fallen shed surrounded by high weeds.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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"There!"

Matt could see nothing but the shed. He cautiously walked down toward the
building,

hoping that the man had understood his question and hoping more that Fritz was there
and alive.

As he slowly approached the shack, the thick waste-high weeds blocking his view,
something

lunged at his left leg and he instinctively leaped back. It sank it's teeth into his pant leg
and began

snarling. Then the little dog backed off and began to growl and bark. Fritz was tied with a
rope to

the shed and had not recognized Matt.

"Fritz! Here boy, c'mere boy! It's me - Matt!"

Fritz backed further away, continuing to bark and growl. Matt reached out and
kept
talking to him in a calming manner.

The little animal was skinny and emaciated and very close to starvation. That was
why he

had not attacked until Matt was practically upon him. He was weak from hunger and if
left alone

much longer he would surely die. As Matt continued talking, Fritz, weakened by the
effort,

stopped barking.

"C'mere, Fritz! C'mere boy."

The dog started to whine. Then there was recognition, his whole backside
beginning to

beat from side to side in concert with his tail. Matt knelt down and the little dog jumped
all over

him licking his hands and face.

A short while later Matt was driving out of town. He had bought gasoline at the
only

pumps left open in town and fed the starved Fritz some of the lunch meat and bread he
brought

along. He reached over and stroked the soundly sleeping dog who now occupied a small
space in

the right seat beside him. His belly was full and as far as he was concerned - he was
home.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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The sweeping headlights reached out, piercing the blackness of open space
beyond the

road's edge as he negotiated the turns of the familiar route that wound down to the small
bridge

below that crossed the Ruzizi River into Bukavu. Because of the thick vegetation and
trees it was

impossible to see anything other than a few flickering lights in the town below. It was
long after

dark and he was becoming apprehensive about what he would find. Anxiety was mixed
with an

excitement that if he were asked to explain he would have had difficulty in doing so. The
prospect

of facing unknown dangers as well as seeing familiar surroundings gave him a strange
feeling of

exhilaration that he found hard to understand. The thought never occurred to him that he
should

turn around and go back.

He turned onto the short straight stretch of road leading to the bridge and some of
the

criss-crossed steel girders were picked up in the beams of his headlights. He could now
make out

a few more lights beyond but no sign of anyone at this end of the bridge. He thought
possibly he

might find it blocked but there was no one to be seen.

He slowed, pulling on to the bridge he passed between the girders. They would
suddenly

appear in his lights and then just as suddenly disappear into the blackness off to the side
and

behind him as the headlight beams passed beyond. Then he saw a figure standing off to
the left at

the end of the bridge and then another came into view on the opposite side. His mind
quickly

raced back to a newspaper article he had read the week before that depicted graphically,

photographs and all, the dead occupants of a car that had been raked by automatic
weapon fire by
members of the Force Publique who had thought the driver was going to try to drive by
them

without stopping. The whole family, Mother, Father and two children were killed. He
slowed

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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further and as he approached the end of the bridge and into Congo he noticed they had
automatic

weapons slung over their shoulders. They wore combat helmets and were uniformed. He
kept the

car moving slowly expecting them to step in the path of his car at any moment and bring
him to a

stop. Then he saw their helmets were light blue with a circular insignia on the side.
"United Nations

troops!" he said out loud to himself. He pulled up between them, still expecting them to
stop him,

but they made no move to do so, just glancing at his car as he drove by.

The winding street through Bukavu that led to the turnoff to the peninsula where
the

Miller's house was located was deserted except for a few more United Nations soldiers
that were

stationed at some of the principal intersections. He passed only a few vehicles, some of
which

were civilian and some military filled with more U.N. troops. The streets were dimly lit
but he

realized this was the way they had always been. He had become used to Nairobi's
brightly lit

streets and the contrast was immediately apparent.

Most of the houses along the way were in darkness and the shops were closed.
The movie

theater on the left was also dark. He turned up the dashboard light and checked his watch.

10:43PM! 'Well,' he thought, 'even under normal conditions the shops would be closed
but at this

hour the theater would still be open.'

He made the right turn on to their street, Avenue Lieutenant Simonet, and started
the

slight descent down past the houses on the left, all of which were in darkness. The steep
hill on

the right side of the street led up to a higher elevation upon which sat the town's domed
cathedral.

The few street lights that were along the street were on but gave off only a dim white
light that

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-289-

actually left much of the street in darkness. One of these street lights was located just in
front of

their house, which now came into view further down on the left.

As he passed slowly in front of their house his eyes swept over it. It was dark
inside with

the front bathed in the soft light from the street lamp. He noticed no difference in it's
appearance.

The sides and back of the house were in total darkness. He thought it unusual that the
area was

completely deserted, particularly since Michel Waterman's letter had indicated that U.N.
troops

were located at the school just down the street. There was no one in sight.

He guided the car to the left and up on to the slight incline of their driveway and
brought
it to a stop just in front of the garage, placing him to the right of the front doors of the
house.

Fritz sat up in the seat as the car came to a stop and Matt reached over and quieted him.
He

switched off the ignition, wound down his window and listened, his headlights glaring
against the

back wall of the doorless garage.

There was complete silence except for the sound of a soft breeze that was blowing

through the Eucalyptus trees surrounding the house. Fritz began to whine and Matt again
reached

over to pet him.

"Quiet, Fritz, lay down boy." he whispered.

Glancing down the street to his right he could barely make out the dark outline of
the

Athenee' Royal School in the distance. He snapped the small panel off the dashboard and
reached

in, taking the automatic from it's compartment. Clicking off the safety he pulled back on
the bolt

and let it snap back into place forcing a bullet from the handle clip into the chamber.

"You stay here, Fritz! Lay down boy!" he commanded.

He wound up the window and stepped from the car. Softly closing the door he
walked

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-290-

along the front of the house to the entrance. As he passed his office window that faced the
street

he noticed the drapes were drawn in the same manner they had left them one month
before. He
stopped in front of the double doors and listened, glancing up and down the street. Still
only the

soft breeze rustling through the leaves of the Eucalyptus. He looked at the car and saw
that Fritz

was standing on the seat with his front paws on the door watching him.

He inserted the key in the lock and turned it slowly until he heard the familiar
click.

Palming the small gun he slipped his index finger through the trigger guard, pressed
down on the

door handle and slowly swung the door open. Standing off to the left he peered into the
foyer.

The dim light from the street lamp moved across the gleaming white marble floor as the
door

swept open. Except for a few pieces of furniture along the walls that were just as they had
been

it was empty. The light from outside reflected off the floor and he could now see the
entire

foyer clearly. The double doors on the opposite end of the room that led into the living
room and

the rest of the ground level rooms were closed, again just as they had left them, as was
the door

on the right to his office and the door on the left to the powder room. He glanced at the
underside

of the spiral stairway to the right and just beyond the office door.

Nothing!

Walking slowly into the foyer he reached to his left and bracing himself snapped
on the

wall lights, bathing the whole area in bright light. He waited and listened.

Still nothing!
Silently he closed the front door behind him and walked to the office door to his
right.

Bracing himself again he pushed down on the handle and against the door at the same
time. The

light from the foyer revealed his desk, the chairs and the bibliotheque. Then he turned and

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-291-

walked to the powder room on the left and opened the door in the same manner.
Everything was
just as it had been left.

As he walked toward the double doors to the living room he looked up the
winding

staircase to the landing and walkway above. The one bedroom door he could see in the
upstairs

hall was closed. He began to feel more at ease now and forced some of the tension from
his body.

'If they had looted the house,' he thought, 'I would certainly have seen some signs of it by
now.'

He reached for the door handle to the living room and the rest of the house, then stopped.

It suddenly occurred to him that if he opened the door with the glare of the foyer
lights at

his back he would be able to see very little in the large living room beyond, but he would
provide

an excellent target. He reached over to his right and flipped the switch, turning off the
foyer

lights.

Now the only light came from the street lamp outside which filtered through small
panes

of glass on both sides of the entrance. He waited a few moments to give his eyes time to
adjust to

the dimmer light. He knew that the huge windows that lined the walls on the other side of
the

living room would provide some light from the street lamps in the center of town just
across the

lagoon that separated the two peninsulas.

He tightened his grip on the gun and reaching for the door handle he slowly
pushed it

down. As the spring inside stretched resisting the pressure it made a rasping sound.

"Damn!" he swore softly.

He pushed against the door and as it slowly swung open he could make out the
dark shape

of the back of the sofa and the overstuffed chairs. They were dimly outlined against the
little bit of

light that came from across the lagoon. He stood motionless - waiting.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-292-

Silence!

Straining to see more clearly he took a step into the living room - then froze!

He detected movement just beyond the sofa! He stopped breathing and quickly
raised the

pistol pointing it in the direction of the movement. He could make out the outline of first
a head

and then upper torso as it emerged from behind the sofa. Then an outstretched arm
revealed the

unmistakable shape of a broad bladed machete in it's hand. He pointed the gun at the head
and

began to squeeze the trigger.


"Bwana!! -- Bwana Mukubwa!!"

"Sebastian?! Is that you, Sebastian?!"

"Ndiyo! Ndiyo Bwana!"

Matt quickly reached over and snapped on the lights, releasing the air from his
lungs.

Sebastian stood behind the sofa shaking violently and smiling from ear to ear. Dropping
the

machete he clasped his hands together. "Bwana, Bwana, I am so happy to see you!"

Matt walked to him and took his hands in his own and then embraced him. This
was never

done and it so startled Sebastian that he stood dumbfounded, his hands at his side.

"Are Mandami and the girls outside?" he asked looking around Matt.

"They are not with me, Sebastian. Are you all right? How is your family?"

"For the time being we are all right, but since independence, Bwana, things have
become

very bad. The blue-helmeted soldiers are here to protect us, but there is much killing and
torturing

going on that they know nothing about, of both blacks and whites. Many homes and
businesses

have been broken into, destroyed and everything stolen. Sometimes during the night they
bring

trucks and steal everything with the whites gone. I think many whites will never come
back. I am

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-293-

so happy you and Mandami will be coming home!"

"Why are you here in the house?"


"Two weeks ago they tried to break into the house," he said pointing to a broken
glass

door at the opposite end of the bridge room. It was daylight and Bwana Hanscom was
passing by

and drove them off. Every day since you left I had been going to his house to see if he
had news

of you and Bwana Doctor gave me the key you gave him a long time ago."

Matt looked in amazement at the little man who stood before him. He could have
been

destroyed with a medium blow by anyone of average size. He had risked his life to
protect their

home.

"Thank you, Sebastian. You make me proud to know you. It is good to have a
friend like

you."

Sebastian's chest swelled and he smiled broadly. 'Now we can again take up the
beautiful

life we had when Mandami and the little ones return,' he thought. 'I would risk my life
many times

over to have it be so.'

The morning after his return to Bukavu Matt visited first Doctor and Mrs.
Hanscom and

then Monsieur Lenoir. The Hanscoms had returned to Bukavu two weeks after the Millers
had

left and had stayed on to provide supplies and act as a communication center for those
few

remaining missionaries still manning stations in the bush. Most of the others were in
Uganda

waiting for further developments. Monsieur Lenoir and his son Robert had not left during
all of

the troubles and in the beginning had been treated very badly. Except for continuing
threats to

Robert because of his past bad treatment of the blacks they were now relatively safe, at
least for

the time being. Madame Lenoir had gone to Belgium the month before independence and
would

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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remain there atMonsieur Lenoir's insistence until conditions would permit her to return.

The U.N. troops in the Bukavu area, all of them Irish, were containing the
troubles in so

far as their numbers would permit. The Force Publique still existed and was supposedly

supplementing the policing action of the U. N. force, but their harsh treatment of both
blacks and

whites in exercising their new found authority since independence continued to be more
of a

danger than help. They constantly harassed the populace, particularly when there were no
U. N.

troops present, many times pistol whipping or beating people on a whim or with the
slightest

provocation. Countless people just disappeared never to be heard of again.

Consolidated's inventories were intact in Lenoir's warehouses. He was receiving


no

additional supplies, the whole world having stopped shipment of goods to Congo. A
problem that

was becoming more acute was that of the new Congolese government agencies, including
the

police, Army and Force Publique, requisitioning goods from local merchants and giving
nothing in

return but notes promising to pay at some obscure time in the future. Monsieur Lenoir
was not

excepted from this practice. At first the merchants would say they were out of stock, but
soon

they were forced to open up their shops and warehouses to inspection. Anyone caught
lying was

led away to imprisonment and torture. Many were never seen again.

The merchants quickly learned to inflate their prices to cover the losses being
incurred for

goods for which they were not being paid. It soon developed that the prices they were
charging

left them with handsome profits in spite of nonpayment for some of their merchandise.

The medium of exchange continued to be Congolese Francs, a currency whose


value

outside Congo had dropped to nothing. The flight of money from Congo in the few
months prior

to and following independence had been of catastrophic proportions, everyone


exchanging as

F. William Jung/KATANGA
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much as they could for hard, stable currency. A few days after the trouble started the
Congolese

Central Bank blocked the free exchange of Congolese currency and it became a crime to
transport

or send Congolese Francs out of the country under penalty of imprisonment. For the most
part

this stemmed the outflow, except for one avenue that remained open and provided
incentive to
risk imprisonment for many.

The now separate Republic of Katanga was still using Congolese Francs as their
currency

and because of it's quick return to stability and the strong financial base it enjoyed as a
result of

the continuing presence of Europeans, the exchange rate being given there for hard
currency still

remained relatively close to the pre-independence 50 Francs for 1 U.S. dollar. But more

importantly one could buy dollars, Belgian Francs, Pounds Sterling, or any hard currency
freely

with the very same Francs that were blocked across the border in Congo.

Many took advantage of the obvious. Massive smuggling of Francs from Congo
to

Katanga began immediately. It became so serious that the Congolese authorities


announced they

would inflict severe punishment on anyone that was caught. It slowed the outflow but did
not

stop it. Many were willing to take any risk to get their life's savings out.

The same held true for property. Furniture, vehicles, stocks of goods, personal
effects,

except that so far no steps had been taken to stop the shipment of these items out of
Congo.

Many people who had gone back to Congo, especially after the arrival of the U. N.
troops, went

back with the objective of getting out as much of their money and property as they could.
Trucks

and vehicles of all sizes began shuttling back and forth across all the borders, except the

completely closed border of Katanga, carrying out furniture, household effects, goods and

supplies of every imaginable description. Even machinery and equipment that had been
ripped out

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-296-

of factories and shops, anything that could be transported. Soon wood for crating and
packing

was at a premium and became scarce in a country that contained millions of acres of
forest.

First those in authority just asked that the practice of stripping the country be
stopped,

insisting that soon order would be restored and then it would be business as usual. They
were

looking for investment and shipment of goods into Congo but just the opposite was
taking place.

By the time Matt had arrived back in Congo there were threats that the borders would be
closed

to any and all outgoing items unless they were earning the country payment in hard
currency for

the goods and had accompanying documented government approval in the form of an
export

license. In spite of the threats, however, the roads and river crossings leading into the
border

countries of former French Equatorial Africa, Sudan, Uganda, Tanganyika, Angola and
even

undercover to Katanga continued to be choked with fully loaded outgoing vehicles that
returned

completely empty.

Matt reviewed Consolidated's inventories with Lenoir and they established a


procedure of

continuing record keeping for reporting and mailing of documents through the Usumbura
dealer
to the head office that was now located in Elisabethville, Katanga. Transportation and

communication lines between Congo and Katanga continued to be officially severed.

He told Lenoir he was not certain what he would be doing or where he would be
going

after completion of their upcoming home leave. He had decided, however, to pack up all
of their

personal belongings and ship them to Usumbura for protection. With the house empty of

occupants it would be an open invitation to looting. He would send them to his


Distributor's

warehouse there and they would be held until he knew where they would be going.
Arrangements

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-297-

would also be made to leave Fritz with the Usumbura Distributor until they either
returned or sent

for him. He knew that Andre' Andreadis would never leave Usumbura and Fritz would be
well

cared for along with Andre's two dogs.

Lenoir said he would help obtain the almost non-existent wood and boxes that
would be

needed for packing. The job that Matt and Sebastian had ahead of them to assemble
crates and

boxes and then pack up everything was enormous. But they started that very day, and
Matt, with

some very valuable help from Lenoir and Doctor Hanscom, scoured the town and the
surrounding

countryside. Soon they were assembling all shapes and sizes of wooden and paper
containers.
He was now working against an unknown deadline since the government had
announced

that the closing of the frontiers was imminent. Five days later the completely exhausted
Sebastian

and Matt watched the last of the crates being loaded he truck that Andre' had sent up from

Usumbura. As it pulled away Matt thought that if the frontier remains open for just
twelve more

hours the truck will have reached Usumbura and be safely out of Congo.

"Well, Sebastian, that was a good piece of work," he said walking back into the
house.

"Now we'll lock up and I'll go to the hotel. I have already said good bye to Monsieur and
Robert

Lenoir and the Hanscoms. Tomorrow morning I drive to Usumbura, leave Fritz with
Monsieur

Andreadis and then take the noon plane to Elisabethville the next day.

"I want to thank you for your help and dedication. I don't know what I would have
done

without you. I'll be leaving you enough money to cover wages and your weekly
allowance for a

period of four months plus some added bonus. It should take care of you for some months
to

come if you are careful and I know you will be."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-298-

"Thank you, Bwana." He hesitated, then lowered his eyes. "Bwana you, Mandami
and

girls - you come back? I know you send your goods out for protection - but you come
back?"

"I don't know. Honestly, Sebastian, I don't know."


The spindly little black man continued to stand with his head lowered.

"Sebastian, you know how we feel about you. You are a member of our family.
Let us not

be sad but just look forward to the day when we see each other again. Ndiyo?"

"Ndiyo, Bwana."

"Now come on, let us lock up and then I will drop you off at the native quarter on
my way
to the hotel."

As they began to close and lock doors and windows Matt thought again about
what he

had come to realize in these past few days. They would never return to Bukavu. From a
purely

business point of view it could not be justified, at least in the foreseeable future. 'I really
did ship

out our personal belongings for their protection,' he thought, 'but now they can also be
shipped

anywhere in the world once we know where we will be going. Shipped, that is, if the
border isn't

closed within the next few hours.'

The phone call came through just as he was finishing breakfast in his room.
"Matt! This is

Andre'. The truck arrived safely about three o'clock this morning. At this very moment
they are

unloading it and carefully placing it in a protected corner of my warehouse."

"That's great news, Andre'." Matt was elated. "Thanks very much. I'll be seeing
you in a

few hours."

The following day all borders were closed for the export of unauthorized goods.
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-299-

CHAPTER 12

He had met Jack Snow that afternoon in the lobby of the Guest House Sabena in

Usumbura and they were now having dinner on the veranda. Jack was piloting a flight to

Leopoldville early the next morning.

"I understand you people have had a time of it since the troubles began," Matt
said. "How

are Pierre, Jack Simpson, Paul, Mirko and Tom?"

"Pierre and Jack are fine. Workin' their asses off as we all are. We're all gettin'
plenty of

hours in. Most flights are no where near schedule now. Haven't been since the whole
mess

started. Then we keep getting these emergency calls to fly in to some crash patch in the
bush to

haul out some group that's gotten themselves in a bind. Never know what the hell to
expect when

we get there.

"Jack got banged up in the leg," he continued. "He was taking off from a grass
strip with a

load of missionaries just east of Kindu and some bloody wog hidden in the bush took a
shot at

them. Passed right through the cockpit and poor old Jack's leg. They tied it off and he
managed to

get to Usumbura. He's back flying now with his flaming leg all bandaged."

"Pretty rough, huh?"

"Usually they secure the landing area for you but sometimes by the time you get
there it's
been overrun by the bastards. It's the damn perimeter of the landing site that's the
problem.

Almost always they've surrounded the field. The sons-of-bitches don't shoot at you when
you're

landing. They've smartened up and wait 'till you've got the plane full and are taking off.
They

know there are more inside for them to hit and the buggers also know that you can't
maneuver as

well or goose the plane any faster with full power when it's fully loaded. Then they shoot
the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-300-

bloody hell out of you as you lift off and pass out over the edge of the field."

"Jesus!" Matt swore.


Matt had noticed that Jack's former calm, cool demeanor was now more animated and

tense. His manner of speech was no longer deliberately slow and was full of strong
language.

Matt noticed that Jack's former calm, cool demeanor was now more animated and

tense. His manner of speech was no longer deliberately slow and was full of strong
language.

"But the worst is when you get a call that they're slaughtering the locals and
someone is

needed to go into an airport or an open field that is supposedly secured. When you get
there you

don't know if the fucking thing is still open or not. Sometimes you land and find yourself
a sitting

duck in a shooting parlor because they fooled you into believing everything was OK.
We've lost

two that way with some others just barely getting out with their tails shot full of holes."
"How about Paul Hammond and Mirko?"

"That crazy Mirko! He must have driven the Russkies nuts before he got the hell
out of

Hungary in '56. He carries a 45 under his shirt strapped around his chest. He's always the
first

bloke to leap up and volunteer every time one of the emergency calls comes through.
When he

lands he's the only one I know who leaves the cockpit and steps outside to help the people
on.

The rest of us sit and keep the engines juiced so we can get out as fast as we can. They
tell me

once he even ran to the edge of the strip and fired off a few rounds at some of the
bastards who

were hiding in the bush."

"How about Paul?"

Jack stopped smiling and lowered his eyes. He sat poking his fork at the half eaten
fish. In

a much more subdued voice and without looking up he spoke with unconcealed
bitterness. "Let's

talk about something else."

"I'm sorry, Jack, I know Paul well, like the rest of you. If something's happened to
him

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-301-

please tell me. Is he dead?"

He looked up sharply - frowning. "I wish the bastard were dead! We all do! We
could all

puke at the sound of his name."


"What do you mean? What happened?"

"He was answering an emergency wireless call and had landed on that strip close
to

Kabinda. You know the place - in northern Katanga."

"Know it well."

"It was about fifteen Nuns and three Priests from a local mission station. They'd
already

lost five or six after their station was attacked but they managed to use their wireless and
call for

help before they took off into the bush and headed for the strip. Well, no one else was
around but

Paul and they asked him to go. We'd all noticed how he never volunteered, but that time
he was

cornered since no one else was available.

"He'd taxied the DC-3 to a stop at the end of the field with the engines idling and
facing

upwind so he could take off quick. That's standard procedure. His copilot, George
Peterson, you

know him, he told all this afterwards. The Nuns and the three priests came running out of
the bush

down at the other end of the field toward the plane and George went back, opened the
door and

dropped the ladder. All of a sudden he hears Paul yelling his bloody head off so he runs
back up

to the flight deck and sees that the missionaries were now about three-fourths of the way
to the

plane, but there's a bunch of screaming blacks waving machetes and spears coming out of
the bush

behind them at the other end of the field. They had no guns, Matt! No guns! And they
were well

behind those poor people.

"That yellow son-of-a-bitch Paul gave it full throttle and almost ran those people
down

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-302-

taking off. George was yelling his fucking head off but Paul just ignored him."

Matt sat without speaking, staring at Jack in disbelief. He was dumbfounded by


the

dramatic change in Jack.'With what these guys are going through it's no wonder they're
on edge,'

he thought.

"After they lifted off and were banking to the left George said he saw a sight that
will

haunt him for the rest of his life. Those Goddamned savages were hacking and spearing
away at

the Nuns and those three Priests for fair-thee-well. George said they didn't have a chance.
He said

some of them were down on their knees praying while they were being chopped to
pieces."

Matt shook his head. "And Paul? What's he doing? Where is he?"

"I know where I'd like him to be! He's gone to East Africa I hear. Quit Sabena. I
think he

knew they were going to fire him. None of us talked to him for the week or so he stayed
on after

Kabinda.

"By the way," he continued, "I understand that when your Leo people were
evacuating
your boss Albert got beaten about the head a bit with a rifle butt when he got a little
cheeky with

one of the Force Publique. It was at the Ferry crossing in Leo. He almost got the whole
bunch of

them in the shit because of his big mouth."

"I knew he'd been slightly injured but didn't know how it happened."

"He's a proper ass, Matt! Sorry to say it but he doesn't have many friends on this

continent."

Matt did not respond.

The nonstop flight from Usumbura had gone smoothly. Jason Sterling had met
Matt at the

airport upon his arrival and was now driving him directly to the Caravelle in the center of
the city,

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-303-

one of the most frequented bars in Elisabethville. The plane had been late and Albert, the
plant

manager, Ray Bartlett and Walter Wagner had left word when Jason had called that they
would

wait for them there.

The presence of United Nations troops became immediately apparent when he


had stepped

off the plane. The blue helmeted soldiers were everywhere, many stationed intermittently
along

the road leading into town. Jason had said they were made up mostly of Canadians and
Tunisians

in that area. It did not take long for Matt and Jason to bring themselves up to date on all
that had
happened since they had last seen each other. Jason confirmed all that Matt had heard
while he

was still in Kenya.

Kurt Wagemans had surfaced two weeks earlier in Uganda just across the frontier
from

Bunia in northeastern Congo. It had taken him over three weeks to make his way from

Stanleyville by circuitous routes over the least traveled roads he could find, dodging
roving bands

of blacks as well as the Force Publique all the way. He was now waiting in Fort Portal in
Uganda

until it was all right to return.

"What about Marcel, Jason? Has he been found? Does anyone have any news of
him?"

"You won't believe this, Matt, but he turned up right here in E'ville about a week
ago. He's

a member of Tshombe's Mercenaries! A Captain no less. That was his rank when he was
in the

Belgian Army here in Congo a few years back.

"He and Monique are divorced and she's staying in the home they had. Everyone
had

thought she would have left by now to join her parents in Belgium since she has no other
family

here, but she's staying on for reasons that no one can understand. She stops by the office

occasionally or phones to inquire about everyone. You know, Matt, in spite of what she's
been

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-304-

put through by that damned Marcel she's kept herself well and is still a bloody beautiful
woman."
Marcel had been seen twice and only briefly. He apparently was sober both times
and

looked to be in complete control.

"You know those mercenaries are instructed to be low key and to keep themselves
from

being too much in evidence. Many are moving up to the border to help fight off the
Baluba who,

along with their usual tribal hatreds, are helping the Congolese in attempting to get
Katanga back.

Without Katanga Congo is dead!"

Katanga was flourishing under Tshombe and the invaluable support provided by
certain

wealthy whites both inside and outside Africa. There was free flow of goods coming in as
well as

going out of Katanga since there was continued free exchange of currency at close to
normal

rates. But it was becoming increasingly apparent to the Katangese authorities that
something

would need to be done soon to stop the outflow of currency that was in excess of that
which

was needed to purchase goods that were being brought in. The same thing applied to
personal

effects, machinery and equipment, inventories and other items that had been brought into
Katanga

before the start of the troubles. Many were now shipping these items out, fearing that
when a

concerted effort was put together by the rest of the world to bring Katanga back into the
fold they

would be confronted with losing everything in the same manner that had already been
experienced
in Congo.

Consolidated's factory was in operation but just limping along for lack of raw
materials.

But those would soon be available, or so it appeared, as stability returned to Katanga


rapidly. The

limiting factor was that in spite of Katanga representing an important segment of the
Congolese

market place it alone could not support the volume of goods the factory could produce. In

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-305-

addition to having been designed to produce for all of Congo it had been constructed to
allow for

a production capability to export goods to other African nations, none of whom now
recognized

The Republic of Katanga. The daily losses being incurred by the company were
staggering, yet

Albert kept insisting that the government was forcing them to continue operating at
maximum

capacity with the majority of the finished goods going into inventory and the balance
supplying

the minimal requirements inside Katanga. This was to help preserve the image that the
authorities

were attempting to project to the world that Katanga and it's leaders were the only hope
for the

survival of what was left of Congo.

Many believed that Katanga should continue to exist separately and to hell with
the rest of

Congo. Others felt strongly that the seat of government should be in Katanga and headed
by
Tshombe with the rest of Congo becoming a part of it.

Tshombe had been declared President of The Republic of Katanga the moment it
had

seceded. He was a man who looked the part of a statesman. An articulate dresser, well-
groomed

and good looking, he carried himself well and had an air about him which left the
impression that

he was either born to the task or had adapted exceptionally well to a leadership role. A
Palace

Guard was even created for him, replete with sabers and splendidly colorful uniforms
reminiscent

of Napoleon's time.

He was clearly the most capable man to maintain stability and he made it known
that he

recognized the value and need of the Europeans in order to perpetuate the existence of his
new

republic. An existence that was tenuous, not as a result of internal dissension or problems,
but

because of non recognition and hostility directed from outside Katanga. The rejection of
Katanga

as an independent country was gaining impetus around the world, particularly with other
African

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-306-

nations who saw the white-backed regime as a threat to their aspirations of true
independence. It

would only be colonialism in a modified form. All things being considered the prospects
for the continued existence of

The Republic of Katanga did not look too promising.


In contrast to the rest of Congo, violence had all but been eliminated in Katanga
except

for that which was being created by the incursions into Katanga by the Baluba, the hated
Lulua

and the Congolese. An experienced, well equipped mercenary army was rapidly being
created that

was to form the officer corps and the nucleus of the Katangese Army. By African
standards it was

becoming a formidable force.

Just before entering the Caravelle Jason stopped Matt outside.

"Matt, be careful of Albert and what you say to him. He has always been
somewhat erratic

but since the troubles began he's become much more so. He loses his temper frequently
and at

times he becomes very irrational. He's got his problems with head office in The States
and they're

getting worse. Just be careful."

They walked into the crowded, noisy bar. The Caravelle had become one of the
few

chosen places in Elisabethville where the European community gathered to swap the
latest rumors

and news. There was much to discuss these days with the lamentations loud and long
about those

idiots in The United Nations, their troops who were becoming more and more disliked
and

unwelcome, the lack of, but still hoped-for support and recognition from The United
States, the

Communist influence in Africa and how they must fight to the death to keep them out of
Katanga,
that bastard Lumumba, a madman who was intent on destroying Tshombe and his
supporters

along with a Congo he had already all but destroyed.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-307-

The most frequently asked question, one they would repeatedly ask each other

despairingly, was how is it possible that the whole world is so blind that it cannot see that

perpetuating the existence of The Republic of Katanga would be the best thing for all?
The only

ones who would benefit from it's destruction would be the Russians and the Chinese and
their

objectives are in their own selfish interests and definitely not in the interest of the
African.

These subjects were discussed over and over again along with the problems being

experienced in dealing with businesses that had more than just a little in the way of
extraordinary

complications.

Albert was standing at the bar with Walter and Ray and as Jason and Matt made
their way

to them Albert yelled across the room. "Well, well, the prodigal son returns from the
wars! I don't

see any scars or signs of torture."

"Hello, Albert! Walter - Ray! Good to see you. I was happy to hear you were all
safe." He

glanced at a slight discoloration on Albert's left cheek just below the temple. "It appears
that your

injuries have healed well, Albert. I'm glad it wasn't serious."

"It was nothing!" Albert snapped turning to face the bar. "Everyone has blown that
minor

incident way out of proportion."

Matt ordered a Campari and soda and proceeded to brief Albert on what he had

accomplished while he was in Bukavu and Usumbura with respect to the company's
affairs and

inventories.

"Have you been given any idea by head office where you will be going after home
leave?"

Albert asked.

"No, none at all."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-308-

"Well I am in the shit with them because I insisted we carry on with the factory
project

when they wanted to hold up. I am being accused of intentionally misleading them a
number of

times. And so what if I did?" he said sarcastically. "I will eventually be proven right when
this

Katangese Republic prevails! Rightly or wrongly I'm now telling them we must keep
producing

because the government is forcing us. We just cannot lose face!"

"You mean we don't need to maintain that work force and produce to our current
levels?"

Matt asked incredulously. "That it's not necessary to use those raw materials and build up
those

unsold inventories?"

"To the extent that it maintains our positive image - yes!" Albert replied haughtily.
'You mean your image,' Matt thought.

The three others in their group busied themselves with their glasses and nervously
looked

elsewhere.

"But it would be bad enough to shut down and sustain the lower losses let alone
continue

to operate as we are now," Matt said. "Is the government really forcing us to continue
producing

at these levels?"

"Not officially - no, but it is implied." Suddenly Albert's mood turned hostile and
he

screamed above the noise in the crowded bar. "Who the hell do you all think you are
questioning

me and my motives? I want none of you to forget who is in charge here!" He waved his
arms

wildly in a sweeping gesture. "Everyone in that idiot box in The United States is against
me but

here I demand and will get complete obedience from my subordinates! Do you hear
me?!"

The crowd had fallen silent except for Albert's shouting and everyone stood
looking at

them.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-309-

"I ... I," glancing around Albert lowered his voice and again turned toward the bar.
"We

will not discuss this subject any further. We have too much to do to regain control of
company

assets in the rest of the Congo."


The tempo of conversation and noise picked up rapidly again in the room and the
four of

them stood drinking in silence while avoiding each other's eyes.

"What do you hear from Monique?" Albert asked. He continued to stare straight
ahead

over the bar without looking at Matt. He had made it obvious that it was a leading
question and

there was a vicious quality to his voice.

"Monique? I haven't seen or heard from her since I was here for our last
conference. Why

do you ask?"

"I'm told she asks about you often enough. Always under the guise of asking
about others

of course."

"Albert, you know that Monique, Marcel and I are close friends. I think you ..."

"Well I'll be damned," Albert interrupted. He was looking over Matt's shoulder
toward the

entrance. "I must be psychic! Speak of an angel and there she is! I have never known of
her to

come in here!"

The conversation in the bar suddenly died down perceptibly.

Turning, Matt could understand why. Monique was standing just inside the door
looking

around the room searchingly. 'Jason had been right,' he thought, 'She's more beautiful
than ever.'

She saw them and there was recognition. Smiling at Matt she made her way through
the

crowd of admiring looks.


F. William Jung/KATANGA
-310-

"Well, well, well, surprises come in bunches," Albert said. "I'm certain I do not
have to ask

to what or whom we owe this honor."

"Hello," she said, shaking hands with Albert, Jason, Ray and Walter. Turning to
Matt she

extended her hand and he took it, bending forward to kiss her on each cheek. "How are
you,

Matt?"

"I'm fine, Monique. You look well."

"Jason told me you were arriving today and that you would all be meeting here."

Albert glowered at Jason who pretended to be interested in the activities of the


bartender.

"I was shopping in the area," she said, "and decided to take the opportunity to say
hello. A

lot has happened since you were here last. How are Stephanie and the girls?"

"They are well. They're waiting in Nairobi. We'll be going on home leave after I
return

there."

"How long will you stay in Elisabethville?"

"As it stands now probably about one week. It's up to Albert."

"Well, I must be going. Possibly I will see you before you leave."

"No doubt you will," Albert said, his voice filled with sarcasm.

They both chose to ignore him and Matt kissed her again. She turned and walked
out. Her
distracting presence gone, the level of noise once again picked up in the room.

"Uh..., how are things with Stephanie?" Albert asked. Again in the leading
manner, but

this time Matt did not pick it up, his mind still on Monique.

"Fine. As you heard me tell Monique, she and the girls are fine."

"No problems?"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-311-

"None." Matt looked at him curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, you know, the strain of the escape and all. She must have been concerned for
the

girls."

"She was, of course, but she held up beautifully. Don't know what I would have
done

without her. She helped us out of more than one tight spot."

"Yes..., don't know what you would do without her..." and Albert let his words
trail off.

----------------

He knocked on the front door and waited. It opened almost immediately and he
stepped

inside quickly pulling the door shut behind him. He pressed her to him, both of then
straining to

touch every part of each other's body. He caressed her bare shoulders, the tight strapless
dress

revealing each lovely curve of her body.

Still locked in the embrace she placed her mouth beside his ear and whispered,
"There
were times when I thought I would never see you again. That was the only fear I had of
dying...

the thought that I might never see you or have you hold me like this again."

"I was worried about you, Monique. Knowing that your family was not here and
that there

was no one to take care of you... to look after you."

"I am fine. When I heard you were coming I had reason to hang on. I just could
not leave

knowing that sooner or later you would be returning."

They kissed again, more passionately than before, and then they made love -
wanting to

hold back the sunrise - to make this brief time they would have together last as long as
possible.

The intensity of the light slowly increased through the jalousie windows. Matt lay
on the

bed covered to the waist by a sheet. Monique lay turned toward him, sleeping soundly,
her head

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-312-

resting on his outstretched arm. He turned to look at her.

'How can I resolve this,' he thought. 'I won't hurt her but neither will I hurt or give
up

Stephanie.' He turned and stared at the ceiling. 'Holy Christ! What's wrong with me? I'm
thinking

like a blithering idiot! Unless I'm willing to live a lie with the constant danger of
Stephanie finding

out I'm going to be faced with making a decision one way or the other. I have a feeling
that the

decision will need to be made soon. I don't like Albert's innuendoes.'


He gazed at Monique again. She blinked her eyes open, smiling at him. "What a
wonderful

way to wake up. I love you mon adorable Matt."

He rolled toward her and they made love again, tenderly at first, then culminating
in

irrepressible ecstasy. Each new sexual encounter seemed more all-consuming.

------------------

Matt and Monique were having dinner at Chez Paul restaurant. They had decided
it would

be considered more natural for them to do so. Everyone knew that Matt was a close
friend of

both Monique and Marcel and the divorce had not changed that.

Monique looked radiant and her beauty went well with the plush surroundings of
this best

of E'ville's restaurants. As was the case with all clubs and restaurants in Katanga during
these

times it was full of prosperous looking people who seemingly had not a care in the world.
It

would have been hard to believe that the existence of this Republic in which they lived
was

threatened with extinction by a majority of the rest of the world. That any day now a
concerted

effort might be mounted by the Congolese, The United Nations, the Baluba and Lulua to
destroy

them all. That not too many kilometers to the north there was vicious fighting, and dying,
to

prevent deeper incursions into Katanga by the Baluba and Lulua tribes.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-313-

Tshombe and his followers had vowed to fight to the death rather than give in and
it was

apparent that anyone who chose to remain in Katanga of his own free will would be
considered

sympathetic to the cause of the illegal regime. They would also be held accountable for
the crimes

connected with the secession of Katanga and dealt with just as severely as their leaders.
No matter

that Katanga represented the only stable point from which to conduct one's business
during these

difficult times in Congo.

As they sat talking quietly over dinner Monique suddenly reached over and
touched Matt's

hand, glancing toward the entrance.

"Marcel just came in with two of his friends."

She had told Matt earlier that she had not seen Marcel since just before the
troubles had

started. As he turned to look Marcel saw them and started for their table. Matt stood and
watched

as the smiling Marcel walked up to them, his two friends heading for the bar. He was well
dressed

and looked fit, much the way he had that first day they had met at Leopoldville airport
two years

earlier.

"Hello, Matt! Walter told me you were coming. How are you? How are Stephanie
and the
girls?"

They shook hands, embracing in a gesture of close friendship.


"They are all well, Marcel. Waiting for me in Nairobi. You look great!"

"I feel great." Turning to Monique he bent down and kissed her in greeting.
"Hello,

Monique. How have you been?"

"I am fine, thank you. Matt is right. You look as though the Military agrees with
you."

"There is a purpose now. I have something to which I can contribute... in a


positive way.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-314-

My purpose is to protect what we all have here." He looked intensely at Monique. "That
is

something I neglected terribly up to now, protecting something that I considered worth


holding

onto."

He turned to Matt. "Monique and I both know there is no turning back the clock. I
wish it

were not so, but too much, how do you say, water is under the bridge. I know the
problems and

sadness that we had were all of my making. I will not even blame Albert, because I could
have

prevented all of it if I would have had the courage to do so. But I chose to self-destruct
and tried

to take Monique with me." Looking again at her he said softly, "But she was too strong
for that,

for which I am thankful. At least she prevented me from having that on my conscience."

"Marcel," Matt said, "I'll be here until Saturday. Can we get together before I
leave?"

"I would like that very much, cher ami, but we are leaving for the north in about
two

hours. The Baluba and Lulua are becoming more bold in their attacks. I am not certain
when we

will be back but feel that it will probably not be for quite some time. When will you come
back to

E'ville?"

Matt glanced at Monique. "I'm not certain."

"Well I will see you when you get back. Maybe by then we will have this whole
mess

straightened around and the world will come to it's senses and see that the real future of
Congo is

right here in Katanga. Tell them Matt! Tell them to support us before it is too late. Too
late for all

of Africa! Otherwise generations of the future will suffer the indignities of starvation,
anarchy,

corruption of a magnitude never seen before, disease and repression. They may think that
under

the colonialism of the whites that freedom and liberty were denied, but they cannot
imagine what

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-315-

will happen if these people are left entirely to their own devices or to domination by the

Communists."

They were startled by loud clapping and cheering all around them. They had not
noticed

but Marcel's words had caught the attention of everyone in the restaurant. There were
shouts of

"Bravo! Bien dit! D'accord!"


Marcel, embarrassed, bowed slightly. "Merci! Merci!" He turned to Monique and
Matt.

"Both of you take very good care of yourselves. You mean a great deal to me. I know we
will see

each other again. Hopefully under much better circumstances."

They embraced again and Marcel bent to kiss Monique. He walked to the bar and
spoke to

his friends who then quickly downed their drinks, paid their bill and left, Marcel turning
and

waving as they disappeared through the door.

"He loves you very much, Matt."

He smiled. "Anyone hearing you say that might think that he and I have
homosexual

tendencies."

"You know that is not what I mean," she smiled. "I mean he truly loves you as a
friend

such as he has no other. He would do anything you ask of him without questioning or
hesitation."

He sat silently gazing at her for a few seconds. "Being as astute as you are,
Monique, you

must know that I feel exactly the same about him." He looked at the door through which
Marcel

had just departed. "I hope he takes good care of himself."

Matt could not know that the next time he would see Marcel their friendship
would be

tested to it's limits by the circumstances that would surround them.

--------------

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-316-

Jason had driven Matt south to Ndola in Northern Rhodesia. From there he had
taken a

flight further south to Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia where he hoped to catch the London
bound

Comet that stopped in Nairobi en route. It was the only means of getting to Nairobi from

Elisabethville. He was on the waiting list of that day's plane, a flight that unfortunately
only

stopped in Salisbury every other day, with all flights solidly booked for one week ahead.
He had

cabled Stephanie and indicated that if he did not make that day's flight he would cable her

immediately and then hope to get on the next flight two days later and continue to do so
until he

eventually made one of them.

On the flight to Salisbury he thought about the previous night with Monique.
They had

slept little, preferring to be fully conscious of the other's presence for as long as possible
before

his departure. She lay in his arms in the half light of the street lamp outside.

"There is a good chance you will not return to Congo, isn't there?"

"I can't say what will happen, Monique, but I won't lie to you. The way things are

developing the work to be done here is now one of devoting full time to recovering as
much of

the company's investment as possible, then conduct minimal business until a clearer
picture

evolves as to what the future holds for Congo and Katanga. That doesn't require the
number of

people we now have."


"How many would be needed? Would they need you?"

"Not necessarily. I must be realistic. They would need a Manager of course, a


Finance

Manager, and I would say no more than a staff of three, preferably accountant types, with
one

based in Leo as Lenart presently is. The factory should be closed immediately.

"Monique," he continued, "I know you have refused to commit yourself one way
or the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-317-

other but I would be much happier if you would go to Belgium and stay with your
parents."

"We will see. Meanwhile things are quite safe here in Katanga. More importantly,
the

thing that will keep me going is the hope that you will return. Without that hope I am lost.
There

is nothing for me."

"I don't know how or where it will happen," he said holding her closely. "but
whether it's

here or somewhere else in this world I do know we will see each other again."

She looked at him. "I have the strongest feeling you are right. I only hope that the
sadness

that accompanies the feeling is because you must leave me now, not because of what will
possibly

be happening at the time we meet again."

He did not make that day's flight. The cable he had given to the girl at the desk
contained

a message that he very much regretted having to send:


Unable to make first flight stop will attempt again in two days stop
if cannot obtain seat will cable again stop love and miss you all

He knew Stephanie would not receive the cable until after she had met the flight
and found

he was not on board, but they had agreed he would cable anyway as an indication that
nothing

more serious had happened. He had been gone from Nairobi for almost one month.

It was now 3:OOPM, the exact scheduled departure time of the plane. He went to
the

airport bar for a drink before going to the hotel where he would spend the next two
nights. After

finishing his drink he was in the process of paying the check when an announcement
came over

the public address system:

"BOAC flight 983 to Nairobi, Athens and London has been delayed due to
equipment

problems that are not of a serious nature. Will Messrs. Willis Jameson, A. Maragakes and

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-318-

Matthew Miller who had been wait listed for flight 983 please report to the BOAC ticket
counter

if they are still in the building. We repeat - BOAC flight 983..."

He quickly paid his check and went to the counter. There were a number of people

surrounding it, all of whom were attempting to speak to two clerks simultaneously. Matt
heard

the clerks repeating over and over again, "Sorry, very sorry, can't tell when it will leave...
must

wait for the arrival of the wheel assembly from Johannesburg. They are readying it now...
estimate

at least five or six hours, counting time en route and time needed to mount. Sorry... no
other

way... none available here in Salisbury."

"My name is Matthew Miller. I was one of those paged who was wait listed on
983."

"Oh yes, Mr. Miller. We've had three cancellations with the delay of flight 983.
We have

space for you now but there will be a minimum of six hours wait."

"I'll take it please. What's the cause of the delay?"

"Something wrong with one wheel assembly. The pilot noticed it when taxiing out
for

takeoff. We have no replacement here and it's being sent up from Johannesburg. Here's
your ticket

and boarding card, Sir. Please don't leave the building. You can wait in the lounge. Maybe
catch a

few winks along with free drinks. It may be a long wait."

"Thank you very much. You're very kind."

Walking to the lounge he decided against sending another cable. Stephanie


wouldn't

receive it before he arrived anyway. He settled down in a chair in the lounge overlooking
the

parking ramp below. He could see the Comet sitting on the asphalt apron, sleek and trim.
One set

of wheels was missing and that side of the plane had been propped up on blocks.

'Well 983,' he thought, 'you may be late taking off, but as a result I'll get to my
wife and

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-319-

children a hell of a lot sooner.'

-----------------

The taxi pulled up in front of the lodge and except for two dim lights on both
sides of the

steps leading up to the veranda the buildings were in total darkness. It was almost two in
the

morning. Matt paid the driver who then helped him to the door with his luggage.

In order not to frighten Stephanie and the girls he knocked very softly at first. He
waited

in the semi-darkness, with only the occasional sound of a hyena cackling amidst other
animal

sounds of the African night breaking the silence. The unmistakable roar of a lion close by

reminded him that the high barriers around the lodge were very comforting. He knocked
again,

this time much harder. After a few more seconds wait he pounded so hard that he was
afraid he

might disturb the guests in the adjoining flats.

He was about to pound on the door again when he detected the noise of someone
moving

on the other side of the door. He tapped on the door again, this time more softly while
leaning

with his ear close to it.

"Who is it?" The voice from the other side was so soft that he could not tell if it
was

Stephanie or someone else. It was definitely female.

"Stephanie? Is that you? It's Matt!" he half shouted.

He heard the latch slide in the door and then the bolt on the safety lock being
turned. The

door opened slowly and he heard Stephanie whisper in the darkness beyond.

"Matt?"

"Yes, Honey - it's me."

Then the door swung open. He could barely see her in the darkness but he swept
her up in

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-320-

his arms and held her so tightly that she moaned slightly as he squeezed her. He kissed
her and her

lips were warm and moist. She felt strangely relaxed in his arms. 'She must still be half
asleep, he

thought.'

Reaching over he snapped on the light and as he did he relaxed his hold on her.
She

started to fall backwards staggering to keep her balance and he quickly grabbed her to
keep her

from falling.

"Oh, Matt, I'm sho happy to she you. I wash... uh... sho worried."

He looked at her curiously, her lovely blue eyes glazed and half closed in
something more

than just sleepiness.

"Mrs. Miller - you're drunk!" he laughed. "I left a wife who consumed very little
alcohol

and come back to a lush."

She fell into his arms, her head resting against his chest.
"Oh, Matt... when we kept getting news that the plane was later and later... and
then

your... uh... cable came, I was so sad. Harry and Natalie came out to keep me company
and...

comfort me. Had large pisher frozen dakrish... I mean... dakrish. Guess I drank too
many."

He turned her face up to his and kissed her. Picking her up in his arms he kicked
the door

shut behind him. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I missed you so mush," she mumbled. "So happy now... girls too... so happy...
they

missed Matt too... so sleepy..."

By the time he reached the bedroom she was fast asleep in his arms. He put her
down

gently and pulling the sheet up over her kissed her again.

We'll talk in the morning," he whispered to his soundly sleeping wife. "Now we
can look

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-321-

forward to being together for awhile."

He went to the girl's bedroom and walked to each, kissing them softly so that he
would

not wake them. 'My Harem,' he thought. 'They are such good little girls, and with their
mommy

have been through so much. They have already experienced more in their young lives
than most

people ever do."

-----------------
After brief stops in Addis Ababa, Asmara and then Cairo they disembarked from
the

Ethiopian Airways DC-7 for four days in Athens. They had arranged for the rental of a

comfortable flat in the Nikis Hotel just off Constitution Square in the center of the city
with three

bedrooms, a kitchen and dinette leading off a fairly large living room. The kitchen saw
very

little use, with every meal being eaten in the excellent restaurants throughout the city,
except for

breakfast which they had in the lobby area downstairs.

They spent most of their time relaxing and sightseeing at the Acropolis, the
amphitheaters

and the surrounding countryside, sometimes as part of tour groups and sometimes on
their own.

Athens was a city that never slept. Stephanie and Matt would sit until the early morning
hours on

the small terrace that overlooked the street below. Then they would slip downstairs and
walk to a

little sidewalk kiosk just down the narrow side street on which the hotel was located to
talk with

the owner and the other customers while eating hot meat sandwiches whose spiciness was

tempered by the chilled resin wine they were sipping. In these surroundings it seemed
impossible

that what they had experienced these past few months was anything more than a dream.

From Athens they flew to Rome via Olympic Airways where they had booked
rooms at

the Grand Hotel just a short distance from Via Veneto. During the 3 days there they
managed to

see a good part of the city. The Coliseum with the teeming noise of traffic and humanity
blocked

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-322-

out by the high stone walls and decaying seats that once held the spectators that cheered
while

looking down on the now hauntingly quiet of the stadium floor. The catacombs, the
Vatican,

numerous churches and many of the remains of what had once been the mighty Roman
Empire.

Rome was another city that never slept. Here too they took early morning walks
along Via

del Babuino, Via Veneto and Via Boncompagni. Stephanie shopped along Via Condotti
coming

away with finely crafted leather shoes, gloves and a handbag.

It was their last night in Rome. Both of them were in a melancholy mood brought
on by

the prospect of leaving this vibrant city the next day. They were walking hand in hand
along Via

del Babuino toward Piazza di Spagna and it's famous Spanish Steps after having dined at
one of

the sidewalk cafes on Piazza del Popolo. Suddenly they came upon an ancient, very much

deteriorated fountain that had been placed very inconspicuously in the wall of one of the
buildings

along the way. They had not noticed it on their previous walks.

The blackened marble of a life-size, not-so-attractive face of some forgotten man


stared at

them from the curved back. Trickling from his pursed lips were drops of water that fell
into a half

bowl underneath. The entire fountain was no more than two feet wide and four feet high
and was

recessed into the wall so that the man's face was just about at eye level. It seemed totally

forgotten and uncared for, the marble chipped and discolored by time.

Matt took a coin from his pocket and slipped his arm around Stephanie's waist.
Even the

lights along the street were lacking at the spot where the fountain was located, leaving it
in very

dim light, a fact that undoubtedly contributed to it's neglect.

"All of the beautiful fountains in this city receive more than enough attention," he
said,

"and thousands of coins are tossed into them. But this one is ours. What will we name it?"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-323-

"Let's see... how about... Giuseppe?"

"That's it! 'Fontana di Giuseppe' - 'Giuseppe's Fountain'. Now let's make a wish
and from

this day forward this is our own personal fountain. With a face like that I'm sure no one
else will

claim him but us."

He dropped the coin in the small amount of water in the bottom of the bowl and
they

stood for a few moments facing the fountain, their eyes closed. Then Matt turned and put
both

arms around her, kissing her softly.

"What did you wish?" he asked.

"You know I can't tell you. If I do it won't come true. What did you wish?"

"I can't tell you either," he smiled.


They turned and continued walking.

'My wish,' he thought, 'is that I want her to continue loving me no matter what
happens -

and that may be asking too much.'

'When the time comes,' she thought, 'give me strength to handle it, whatever
develops. I

cannot visualize life without him, but neither am I certain whether I can cope with the
idea of not

seeing or being with Tom.'

From Rome they took an Air France flight to Paris where they were booked at the
Hotel

George V. As with Athens and Rome they fell in love with Paris. But here, because of
their ability

to speak French fluently, many doors were opened for them that would otherwise have
been

closed. It was a beautiful time of the year, providing the opportunity for them to enjoy
visits to

the Eifel Tower, Napoleon's tomb, Notre Dame, Place dû Tertre, Sacre Coeur. Stephanie
and

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-324-

Matt dined on three different nights at the Lido, Moulin Rouge and floating along the
Seine on the

Bateau Mouche, playing the part of tourists and enjoying every moment of it. After
having had

dinner at Maxim's one evening they made an early morning visit to the Crazy Horse for
drinks and

a look at some of the most exotic, beautiful women in the world.


A short walk up Avenue George V and they were on Avenue des Champs Elysees,

providing easy access to one of the most fascinating strolls in the world, which always
ended with

coffee and cognac while people-watching at one of the many sidewalk cafes.

Then, four days after having arrived in Paris, the Miller family made their first jet
flight on

board a Boeing 707 from Paris to New York in roughly half the time it took them
previously.

Then on to Ohio and home.

------------

Home leave seemed to pass by rapidly. They visited relatives and friends from
Ohio to

Pennsylvania to Florida, sightseeing and relaxing at beaches and in the mountains along
the way.

All the while they spent time shopping to replenish clothing and personal effects.

On a number of occasions Matt was asked to speak about the happenings in the
Congo at

various club luncheons and dinners - Lions, Rotary, Chamber of Commerce and
churches.

They kept themselves continuously aware of events in the Congo. The


newspapers,

television, radio and all the media were full of the atrocities being committed, the chaos,
and the

steps being taken to bring the seceded province of Katanga back into the Republic of the
Congo.

They were concerned about friends there and whether they were safe, or even alive, but
found it

impossible to obtain any information about them.


F. William Jung/KATANGA
-325-

CHAPTER 13

It was late October when Matt walked into Dick Kirkland's office. He was
apprehensive

but anxious to determine what the immediate future held for him and his family.

"Sit down, Matt. Unfortunately I have some news that I'm sure you are not going
to find

pleasant, and you and Stephanie have a decision to make. First..., Albert Fouquet is
dead!"

"Albert..., dead!" Stunned, Matt sat staring at Kirkland in disbelief.

"I'm afraid so. The circumstances surrounding his death are still somewhat
obscure. The

Katangese authorities are conducting a full investigation. It's still questionable as to


whether he

was just the victim of a robbery or whether he was... murdered!"

The thought of Marcel's often expressed hatred for Albert flashed through Matt's
mind.

"When and how did it happen?"

"It was ten days ago. The details are sketchy but it seems after having not been
seen for

three or four days he was found dead on the steps in front of his house. He'd been shot
four times.

The front door was closed and locked and from all appearances nothing inside was
disturbed or

stolen so they've almost ruled out robbery."

"Terrible!" Matt said.

"In addition to some other reasons the authorities refuse to reveal a report we have
from
the police that indicates he may have been killed elsewhere and then placed on the steps.
There

was almost no blood on the ground."

"You said that Stephanie and I have a decision to make." He already knew what
Kirkland

was going to ask of them.

"Matt, we would like you to return to Congo as manager. We have certain ideas
about

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-326-

what must be done there but have made no firm decisions yet. We wanted to talk to you
first." He

hesitated for a few seconds and then asked, "Will you go back?"

"Stephanie and I have talked about what might be in store for us and returning to
Congo

was one of the possibilities, although I must say that it was one of the most remote.
Albert's death

has changed that. I have to be frank and say that we agreed we would return only if
conditions

were right. I can't expose my family to any more dangers. They've already gone through
more

than most people would experience in ten lifetimes."

"We know, Matt, and believe me we understand. But you'll be returning to


Elisabethville

where at least for the time being things are stable. There's a lot to be done but hopefully
you can

be at least partially successful and then be out of there in a few months before any
organized
effort is mounted to get Katanga back into the new Congo Republic. Hopefully it can be

negotiated back without the need of force and while these negotiations are going on it
gives us

time to accomplish our objectives. In any case, at the first sign that things are getting
rough, you

and the family must get the hell out!"

"Let's talk about your ideas as to what needs to be accomplished," Matt said.

"We must do all possible to recover all or as much as we can of our investment
there. The

finished goods located in warehouses in Usumbura, Stanleyville, Bukavu, Elisabethville


and

Leopoldville combined are estimated to be valued at $1,200,000.00 dollars. The


investment we

have in other assets, including vehicles but not counting our factory in Elisabethville is
another

$400,000.00. The factory, land, buildings, inventories in raw materials and finished
goods,

machinery and equipment, furniture and fixtures, - everything, represents an additional


investment

of $4,500,000.00. All told we have over $6,000,000.00 in the Congo and we must exert
every

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-327-

effort to recover and secure as much of it as we can. All of it if it's humanly possible. Any
part we

are unable to recover we better be damned well prepared to explain to the Chairman, the
Board of

Directors, and the stockholders.

"Matt, it's a tremendous undertaking, and we've all been reluctant to ask you and
your

family to go back there after what you've already been through. You'll actually need to
sell

yourself out of a job there and as quickly as possible, because time will not be on your
side. It's

hard to tell what will develop in Congo and Katanga and when. We could lose it all." He
looked

intently at Matt, giving him time to absorb what had been said. "What do you think?
What do you

think about our chances and how would you go about it? Assuming you agree to go back
of

course."

"I've already given a great deal of thought to it. The only way to dispose of the
inventories

is to attempt to sell them to our distributors and dealers, preferably the larger ones so that
we can

sell them in large quantities, and to the more financially sound. It must be for cash. It may
not be

possible, but if we can get hard currency, even at reasonably reduced prices, we should do
so.

If we are forced to take all or part of the payment in Congolese Francs we can maintain a

somewhat higher price to help pay for the cost of obtaining foreign exchange and getting
it out. It

might take a while. Months, even years, and we'll lose the use of the money while we go
through

the process, but it's better than no recovery at all.

"We'll attempt to sell off all the other assets - warehouse and office equipment,
vehicles -

in the same manner. We'll shut down the factory. Then we must do all possible to get that
machinery and equipment out of the country. If we don't get it out we'll either lose it
through

confiscation, destruction from the fighting that may come, or it will just rot there.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-328-

"How do you propose to get the plant out, Matt? You know they're not letting
anything

leave either Congo or Katanga, especially a factory."

"I don't know. Maybe we won't be able to get it out, but we'll sure as hell give it a
try. I'm

afraid the disposition of the land and buildings, selling them, may be a problem, but we'll
see what

we can do there as well."

"From the way you're talking, Matt, it sounds as though you've agreed to go
back," he

smiled.

"It appears that way doesn't it? Stephanie and I have already discussed long and
hard the

possibility of our being asked to go back, although not in the capacity of Manager. We're
ready."

Kirkland stood and shook Matt's hand. "We'll do all we can to assist from this end.
I don't

know that it can be a hell of a lot under the circumstances. You know what the objectives
are, but

you'll be left to your own devices. Just don't take any unnecessary chances where the
personal

safety of you and your family is concerned. The welfare of all of you comes first. Now...,
how

soon can you leave?"


"Providing flights can be booked we can leave in about 10 days. We have shots,
physicals

and some of the usual company formalities to complete."

"Good! Anything I can do to help please let me know."

"Thanks, Dick." Matt turned and started for the door.

"Oh, by the way, Matt, just after you started your leave we received word that
Albert had

become engaged to be married. It's a shame that shortly afterwards she lost him. Whoever
she is

she must be very badly shaken."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-329-

"Albert ... engaged?! That's strange. I wasn't even aware that he was serious about

anyone. Neither he nor anyone else said anything to me when I was in Elisabethville and
based on

what you just said I was there shortly before the announcement."

"He cabled us, oh ... about one week after you arrived. We saw no need to get in
touch

with you about it. It was also mentioned in the police reports that he was engaged. She
was a

former employee."

"Then I must know her. What's her name?"

"Just one second," Kirkland replied. "I have it here on the police report." He
leafed

through a file on his desk, picked up one of the sheets and then read from it. "She had
worked in

the Leopoldville office. Here it is ... Monique! Monique Kadar!"


-----------------

After a three week stay in the Grand Hotel Leopold II in Elisabethville the Millers
moved

into a house near the outskirts of the city. It was surrounded by a large garden filled with
tropical

trees and plants with a long terrace that ran the length of the back of the house that
overlooked a

small lake. The house was furnished well, somewhat rustically, but comfortable, and with
a few

small purchases and items that they borrowed they would make do until they received
their

household goods from Usumbura. Matt had not quite determined how he would get them
from

Andre's warehouse in Usumbura to Elisabethville, but he planned to try to arrange


something on

the first trip that he would make there.

It bothered Matt that the house was somewhat isolated, but it was the only decent
place

available with enough room for a family of five, and the large garden and grounds
provided plenty

of space for the girls to run and play.

Immediately upon their arrival Matt immersed himself completely in the business
of

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-330-

accomplishing the objectives that had been set. Stephanie noticed that his preoccupation
with

business went far beyond the norm, even for him. He seemed to be shutting out all else.
One week before the Millers had arrived the Katangese authorities had suddenly
and

without explanation dropped the investigation into Albert's death. They had simply stated
that it

had been robbers who had somehow been frightened off before they could steal anything.
They

refused to discuss the matter any further, indicating that to try to find who it was that had
killed

Albert would be an impossible task.

Matt had not been able to bring himself to believe that Albert and Monique had
become

engaged. Until he had arrived in Elisabethville he kept reassuring himself that there must
have

been some ridiculous mistake, but when they had arrived he found that it was all true. He
had also

found that Monique had left for Europe immediately following Albert's death and since
that time

no one had heard from or about her.

It had been just a few days after Matt's departure from Elisabethville for Nairobi
that

Monique and Albert had announced their engagement. From that moment on they were
seen

everywhere together and it was known that Albert had all but moved in with her. Matt
asked if

she had seemed happy and all had said that with the exception of being less talkative than
usual

and somewhat detached she appeared to be so.

He wondered if Marcel had been made aware of what had happened. He had not
been

seen or heard from since he had left for the north and the fighting that night over two
months

earlier when they met at Chez Paul. Matt was bitter and felt betrayed. She could not have
changed

so quickly from detesting Albert to caring enough to marry him. Whatever existed
between them,

he reasoned, must have been going on for quite some time. First she played Marcel for a
sucker---

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-331-

then me! No wonder Albert never gave up trying to get her, or so they made believe. He
had her all

along. What a time they must have had laughing behind our backs.

Now he knew what additional torment Marcel was forced to endure. He wondered
if

Marcel had known. He must have! But why did she do it? Why did they both do it? Why
play

along first Marcel and then me? Maybe she just likes variety in her sexual adventures, he
thought

bitterly. She let Albert almost destroy Marcel and who knows what she had in mind for
me!

Finally he decided that he didn't give a damn what Monique or Albert had had in
mind for

him. Whoever wiped out Albert did everyone a favor and it got her the hell out of
Katanga and

out of his life. 'Jesus!' he thought, 'to think I jeopardized my life with Stephanie and the
girls

because of her.'

But driving himself day and night while trying to eliminate any good thoughts he
might
still have for Monique could not make him forget what there had been between them, or
what he

had thought had existed between them.

His only real leverage in convincing someone that they should buy the inventories
was the

critical shortage of all goods that was rapidly developing throughout Congo. Almost
nothing was

being imported, no country or company being willing to supply a market where the
chances for

payment were remote to say the least. As a result, premium prices were being paid for
those

products that were available. Many merchants were willing to stockpile merchandise to
either

sell at astronomical prices that would permit them to pay the high premium demanded in
the

black market to buy hard currency, or to hold the goods until conditions ameliorated and
they

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-332-

could then profit handsomely by selling at still higher prices for a Congolese Franc that
was once

again stable.

Matt quickly found out that no official edict had ever been issued to prevent them
from

closing the factory in spite of what Albert had been telling company headquarters. He
ordered the

plant closed immediately, laying off all but a security force and a few maintenance
people. Those

who were dismissed were paid well, he not wanting to risk any adverse publicity.
Everything was
carried out as inconspicuously as possible and the success of these moves and the manner
in

which they were handled was borne out by the fact that there was absolutely no negative
reaction

from any quarter. No dishonesty, he ordered, just be prudent.

Matt repatriated all personnel who had been brought into Congo from other
Consolidated

organizations except for the Finance Manager, Walter Wagner and the Assistant Finance
Manager

in Leopoldville, Lenart Proell. Jason Sterling would also stay and remain based in
Elisabethville.

Kurt Wagemans was still in northeast Congo operating under extremely difficult and
dangerous

conditions trying to protect the company's investment there.

An application was made to the appropriate Ministry for an export license for all
of the

machinery and equipment in the factory. The officials at the Katangese government
agency who

took the application had looked at Matt in disbelief. "This just wasn't being done - you
are

wasting your time and ours," they had said. Nevertheless he had insisted that they take
the

document for processing, pointing out that he intended to follow it's progress daily. He
admitted

to himself that he was not quite certain what his next step would be or to whom he would
turn if

they rejected his request, but he had to go through the exercise.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-333-
He had decided that his first trip would be to Usumbura and Bukavu in an attempt
to

dispose of the company's assets there. He rationalized that he knew the potential buyers
there

better and therefore would be able to get something moving quickly, plus it provided an

opportunity to handle some personal matters. Among other things he would arrange to
have their

personal belongings shipped and once again get Fritz. Stephanie and the girls were frantic
with

worry about the little dog. They missed him terribly, not having seen him for five months.
They

knew he was well because Matt had asked about him when he had phoned Andre about
his

planned Usumbura trip. Andre promised to contact Lenoir in Bukavu with details of his
visit since

all communication between Congo and Katanga remained severed.

A cable was also forwarded to Kurt Wagemans in Stanleyville instructing him to


meet

Matt in Bukavu.

---------

After a great deal of long, hard negotiating with Andre Andreadis, Matt managed
to sell

all of the Usumbura inventories and assets to him and at the price that had been
determined

beforehand was necessary to recover the company's investment. Andre was a close friend
but it

had not made the negotiations any easier. They also arranged to have the household goods

air freighted to Elisabethville, there being no other possible means to ship them. Andre
would
follow up to make certain it was done.

Leaving Fritz behind in Usumbura until his planned return five days later, Matt
flew on to

Bukavu. As he stepped out of the Sabena minibus that had carried them from Bukavu
airport to

the center of town, standing before him and grinning happily was a thin little black man
with a

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-334-

wisp of a goatee.

"Sebastian! It's so good to see you! What a nice surprise." He took his hand and
shook it

vigorously.

"Welcome, Bwana! I am also very happy to see you." He glanced anxiously


behind Matt.

"Mandami and girls are here with you?"

"No. We have moved to Elisabethville in Katanga, far to the south. They are there
now."

"Uh -" Sebastian's smile disappeared. "Mandami and the girls are not coming
back?"

"I'm afraid not. I am only here on business. Then I must return." He felt terrible
for having

turned such happiness to sadness. "But I will be here for five days and we can see each
other

before I go back. I must check into the hotel now and meet Monsieur Lenoir for dinner.
Please

come by his office tomorrow afternoon and we can talk."

"Yes, Bwana," and head bowed he turned dejectedly and walked up the street.
'Damn!' Matt thought as he watched him go. 'So many nice people in this world
that seem

to have so much unhappiness forced upon them.'

The negotiations with Lenoir proved much more difficult, but after three days and
nights

of almost constant discussions a deal was struck and again it was above the minimums
that Matt

had established as being within the interest of the company. As was the case with Andre,
all

payments were by guaranteed notes signed by Lenoir and would be paid to


Consolidated's

account at the local bank and controlled by Michel Watermans, the bank manager.

He then went to the bank and withdrew the company's accumulated funds as well
as those

in their own personal account. He would also withdraw the company's monies in
Usumbura when

he returned there with a view to somehow taking all of it back to Elisabethville. He was
well

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-335-

aware that it was prohibited, but Congolese Francs were still being used in Katanga and
were

being smuggled in from Congo. Word was being circulated that the Katanga government
was on

the verge of issuing it's own currency to stop the practice and rumors were rife that it
would

happen any day. Those who had been caught smuggling were jailed and punished
severely with no

indication as to when they would be released. Matt was not completely convinced yet that
he

should try to take the money in. It was entirely his own decision and no one in the
company was

aware of his even contemplating it.

The afternoon of the first day after his arrival Sebastian came as Matt had asked.

"Bwana, I have decided! I will go to Katanga to care for you, Mandami and the
girls!"

"But Sebastian, what about your wife and children?"

"Later when it is possible I will send for them. I have already instructed my wife."

Matt looked at the torment in the man's face, knowing he had to handle this as
delicately

as possible. What he was suggesting was impossible.

"Sebastian, there are many reasons why you cannot do this, much as we want you
to come

with us. You know that being of another tribe that is entirely unknown in that area you
and your

family would at the very least be shunned but more probably badly treated and even
killed. We

could not expose you and your family to those possibilities.

"We will be living in Katanga for just a little while. Only long enough for me to
complete

some business here in Congo. Then my company will send us to some other part of the
world. So

you see, as unhappy as it makes all of us it is not possible for you to go to Katanga. Can
you

understand?"

Sebastian stood deep in thought, his hands clasped in front of him, his head
bowed.
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-336-

"You do understand, don't you, Sebastian?"

He slowly raised his head and Matt's throat caught as he saw the tears streaming
down his

face.

"Ndiyo, Bwana." he mumbled.

"Sebastian ..." Matt took his hand and trying to speak in his best Swahili said, "we
all love

you very much. You are family."

The shattered little man turned and slowly walked away. They would never see each
other

again.

On the fourth day after Matt's arrival in Bukavu Kurt Wagemans arrived by plane
from

Stanleyville. Matt had the unpleasant task of telling Kurt that he was being let go and for
the time

being there was nothing for him anywhere else in the company. Matt had been in constant
contact

with headquarters in The States and with the company's various offices in Europe trying
to place

him, but there was nothing. He would be repatriated to Belgium at company expense and
given

six months severance pay.

Kurt stepped off the Sabena minibus looking pale and haggard. He had lost a
considerable

amount of weight.

"Hello, Kurt. Good to see you."


"Hello, Matt. You look well. How was home leave?"

"Fine. Spent too much money of course and we were ready to come back long
before it

was up, but we enjoyed it. Let's get you checked in, eat lunch, and then we can meet in
my room."

'It will be a meeting I'd rather avoid,' he thought.

During lunch Kurt talked about his activities and whereabouts since
independence. It was

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-337-

now almost six months since it all started. As he talked he seemed tired and he had some
difficulty

maintaining his concentration. He barely touched his food, preferring to just poke at it. At
times it

seemed as though his mind was elsewhere.

"I was in Paulis when it reached Stanleyville. Thank God my family was already
in

Belgium. For some stupid reason I thought I had to get back to Stanleyville to protect the

company's stocks, our home and belongings. Well I ended up first following along with
the

refugees who filled the roads heading east and northeast to the Ugandan and Sudanese
borders. I

soon found it was a mistake because roving bands of mutins were attacking people on the
roads,

killing and robbing them and raping many of the women. Some even after they were
dead.

"Matt, you would not believe some of the horrors I witnessed. Sometimes from a
hiding
place in the bush I would watch groups of them - men, women and children - being
attacked,

hacked and mutilated before my eyes - unable to do anything about it." He had stopped
eating

altogether now. Looking at Matt he continued. "I have not slept much these past months,
even

when I am in a safe place. I keep hearing the screams and seeing it all over again." He
forced a

nervous smile. "It is a good thing I am not much of a drinker, otherwise I am certain I
would be

an alcoholic."

He then proceeded to tell Matt how after he had finally been able to go back to

Stanleyville he secured the company's stocks by paying some of the Force Publique to
stand guard

until later when he was able to obtain official orders from the head of the garrison for
them to

protect the inventories. He then proceeded to travel throughout the Province taking
seldom used

bush roads to avoid confrontation. His objective was to collect money due the company
from his

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-338-

customers. The dealers could not believe that the company was carrying on and
unknowingly Kurt

was contributing to what little restabilization of the area that was taking place because he
was

leaving the impression wherever he went that it was business as usual.

He had been in constant danger and more than once found it necessary to bribe his
way
out of difficult situations. Twice he was jailed and badly beaten before he was released.
He could

not imagine why both times they had let him go. He had thought he was certainly going
to die.

Matt sat and listened to this man who looked so emaciated and had gone through
so much

hell. Surely he hadn't done all of this just to further his career. Or was it simply because it
was

something that he knew had to be accomplished for which he alone was responsible? It
was

apparent that he needed competent medical attention and fast!

"Kurt, let's go to my room. I must talk to you about what happens now."

They settled down in the overstuffed chairs of the little sitting room just off Matt's

bedroom. A small coffee table was between them, coffee and pastries left there by the
departing

waiter.

Matt proceeded to explain the company's strategies that he was in the process of
carrying

out, pointing out that he intended to try to sell off Stanleyville's inventories and assets to
their

largest dealer in the province, Dendrinos, a Greek merchant located in Bunia. Kurt agreed
that

Dendrinos would be the best choice. He was well financed and was close to the Ugandan
border,

therefore, relatively easy to contact as well as supply in the future. Dendrinos outlets in

Stanleyville and Paulis would also make it easier for him to take possession of
Consolidated's

stocks and assets there. He had to be sold first though, and Kurt immediately began to tell
Matt
how he proposed to do it.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-339-

"I'll meet him in Bunia, if I can get through. If not I'll meet him in Fort Portal,
Uganda, or

somewhere. I'll try to..."

"Kurt," Matt interrupted, "I've got to tell you something that for me has to be the
most

unpleasant thing I have ever had to do."

Wagemans stared at him curiously. "What is it Matt? After what I have been
through

nothing you can say will bother me."

"But it does me and I'm not so sure it won't bother you. I'm forced to tell you that
your

employment with Consolidated is terminated." Quickly then he added, "You will be


repatriated to

Belgium at company expense as will your furniture and personal effects. You will be
given six

months severance pay to give you time to find other employment."

Kurt sat staring at him, his mouth open in disbelief.

"I'm sorry. I know it's no consolation but I've exhausted all possibilities
attempting to find

you something elsewhere, particularly in Belgium or somewhere in Europe, but there is


absolutely

nothing. If you keep in touch with our European offices, as I will, possibly something
will open

up. Maybe something else will surface with some other company." He lapsed into silence,
feeling
that now he was talking too much to suit the situation.

Kurt turned and stared out the window at nothing in particular. "First," he said,
"there is

no furniture, no personal effects, to send anywhere. Our house was ransacked and we
were

robbed of everything. What they couldn't carry off they destroyed. Secondly, you know
what it's

like for a Colon in Belgium. To make matters worse Belgium is in an economic recession
now

and even without the influx of Colons jobs would be scarce."

He looked squarely at Matt and now there was anger in his voice. "What in God's
name

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-340-

did I do all that for? All the time I was doing it I kept asking myself the same question."
His voice

was becoming louder as the full realization of what he had just been told took hold. "It
was

because things would get better and I would eventually be rewarded for a job well done.
Well

done?!" He laughed hysterically. "Nom de Dieu! I did a fantastic job! Constantly risking
my

bloody ass to protect their goddamned stupid goods!" He fell silent, glaring at Matt.

"I'm truly sorry, Kurt, Please believe me, I'll continuously follow all of our
organizations

and keep in touch with you to ..."

"Why don't you give me your job?' Kurt said viciously. "I think I am perfectly
capable of

doing what you are doing and undoubtedly a hell of a lot better. In fact I know you will
fail

miserably where I would succeed!" he screeched, his voice cracking. "You'll fall on your
ass! I

hope and pray to God - No! To the devil - that you do!"

He buried his face in his hands and began to sob uncontrollably, his whole body
shaking

violently. Matt quickly went to his side and put his arm around his shoulders.

"I feel like such a son-of-a-bitch, Kurt. How can you ever forgive me?"

"Oh, Matt," he said between sobs, his voice muffled by his hands, "I'm ... sorry.
You know

I didn't mean ... those things. But ... everything is crashing down on me. I'm so tired and
... and

I've been so - so lonely for such a long time." He looked up at Matt. "Do you know, I ... I
haven't

seen my wife and children for nine months. There were so many times I thought I would
never see

them again." Pulling his handkerchief from his pocket he wiped his reddened eyes and
face. "I'm

sorry for what I said. I mean about your failing. I know that won't happen and I wish you
the best

of luck. We will keep in touch - won't we?"

"I won't have it any other way, and I meant every word I said. I intend to pursue
the hell

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-341-

out of getting you placed somewhere as soon as possible."

The conviction in Matt's voice was not lost on the broken man sitting in front of
him. With
just as much conviction Matt vowed to never let himself be placed in a situation like this
again. 'I

have never felt so inadequate,' he thought. 'so ... dirty!'

The day after his meeting with Kurt Wagemans Matt flew to Usumbura where he
went to

Andreadis to Pick up Fritz and a small wooden crate that Andre had had constructed to
hold the

dog in the rear compartment of the DC-3 that would carry them to Elisabethville. There,
with

Andre's help, he strapped plastic film-wrapped bundles of Congolese Francs around his
chest and

waist over which he put on a loose, oversized sport shirt of the type that could be worn
without

tucking in the shirt tail. He had also purchased a knee length lightweight vinyl raincoat
for

additional cover. He had a total of three million Francs in very large denominations,
which at the

official rate of exchange amounted to sixty thousand dollars. The company's money made
up the

bulk of it with the balance being his own.

"Andre, I'm having a hard time convincing myself that I'm not a damned fool for
trying this

stupid trick. But if I don't get this out we stand to lose this chance to recover it in the near
future,

if we could ever recover it at all. The news coming out of Elisabethville is that they're
going to

switch currencies any day now. I also have some personal money I stand to lose as well."

"Well I won't try to influence you one way or the other, Matt, but you know that
for us

these kinds of risks are part of our daily lives. Without taking them we would not survive
very

long."

"I'll see how I feel and how things look when I get there. If I change my mind I'll
leave it

on the plane if I know the pilot. He can bring it back with him. I know it's a turnaround
flight. If

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-342-

that happens I'll tell him to contact you and you can put it in our account until we decide
what to

do. Would you do that for me, Andre?"

"You know I will."

He had checked both the baggage and the small crate containing a very upset Fritz
and

was sitting in the waiting lounge watching people milling about, very conscious of the
bulky

packages wrapped around his waist. He was hoping it was not as apparent as it felt. It was
hot

and humid and he began to perspire from the added bulk he was carrying. Suddenly he
saw Pierre

Dupont walking by, one of the Sabena pilots he knew.

"Pierre!"

Dupont stopped and turned. "Matt! I'll be damned!" He walked over and grasped
Matt's

hand. "I'd heard you were back from leave a couple of months ago. You're in E'ville now
with all

the rest of them aren't you?"

"Yes. I'm on my way there now."


"That's my flight. As always, I'll give you a good ride." He paused, frowning.
"Except

possibly for our little scheduled stop in Albertville."

"What does that mean?"

"The town is almost surrounded by rebels and some hostile tribes. The mutineers
are bad

enough but those other savages are brutal."

"Is the airport open?"

"Latest reports say yes but the road leading to town keeps being overrun and then

reopened again. They're not certain how long they can keep it open or hold the airport for
that

matter."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-343-

"Why land then?"

"There are some foreign dignitaries there who we are to get out as well as two
priests

and three Nuns who escaped from a mission station located further west close to
Kongolo. Guess

they went through hell sneaking through the bush over that great a distance to reach
Albertville."

"That's one hell of a walk," Matt said, "even under the best of conditions. I've
driven it

many times."

"You've got that right. It would be a shame for them to pack it in after what
they've been

through. I'll not take too many chances though."


"After what I've been hearing about you guys, I don't believe that."

"That's bullshit, Matt," he smiled. "Well - I'll see you onboard. I'll keep you
posted."

As Pierre walked away Matt noticed a small black Dachshund padding and
dodging his

way across the center of the crowded waiting room. He looked remarkably like Fritz! The
dog

appeared to be lost and kept stopping and looking up and around for a familiar face. 'He
certainly

does look like Fritz,' Matt thought, 'but that's impossible. He's caged and being loaded on
the

airplane.'

He walked toward the dog and the closer he got the more he became convinced
that it was

Fritz. No dog walked downhill in quite the same manner as he did with those little hind
legs too

long for his front legs.

"Fritz!" he said sharply. The tiny dog's ears perked up and he looked quickly in
the

direction of the voice. "Fritz! Come here boy!" and he came running, tail wagging for all
it was

worth and leapt into his arms.

"How the hell did you get out of that crate?"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-344-

Fritz was too busy washing his master's face with his tongue to care about
anything else in
the world.
"You little bugger, wait 'till those girls and Stephanie see you. I shudder to think
what

would have happened to you if I hadn't seen you."

When they were still fifteen minutes from Albertville Airport Pierre came back
and sat

beside Matt. Fritz was sound asleep at Matt's feet.

"Thanks, Pierre, for letting me bring the dog into the cabin. I just couldn't keep
him in that
box."

"My pleasure. He certainly looks contented now."

"How does Albertville look?"

Pierre leaned closer and spoke in a very low voice. "Not good. The reports
coming out of

the tower are confusing. The road is open, it's closed, the rebels are surrounding the
airport,

they're not. I'm not too crazy about the situation. The airport might be overrun and we're
being

falsely told it's all right to land."

"Can't you tell if it's the real thing?"

"Some of us have had experiences where the operator is forced at knife or


gunpoint to say

it's OK to land or a pilot who doesn't know the tower operator will be talked down. You
pays

your money and you takes your chances."

"You're crazy." Matt smiled.

"If you're in this business or just in this part of the world you have to be. What
about

you?"
Matt raised his eyebrows, unable to respond.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-345-

"Well, I'd better get back. I'll keep in touch."

They had made their fourth pass over the field, twice flying over the road leading
into

Albertville. To Matt, straining to see the ground below through the small window,
everything

looked normal and peaceful. He could see some vehicles moving along the road and a
few

people standing on the ramp in front of the airport building, on top of which sat the tower.

After the fourth pass Pierre's voice came over the intercom. "This is the Captain.
Please

don't become alarmed but in spite of the fact that the tower reports everything is OK and
that the

airport is secure we felt it was best to make absolutely certain. I must say that things do
look all

right in the tower and on the road leading to town. However, we'll take no chances. After
landing

please stay in your seats with belts fastened even after we have come to a stop. I will
keep the

engines running while we check things out. We want to be ready for immediate takeoff if
things

aren't.. uh.. as they seem."

Everyone in the cabin glanced around at each other, all looking for comfort and

reassurance that there was little to worry about.

Pierre made one more pass, this time closer to the tower, banking as he swept past
for a
better view. Matt could see three men in the tower all waving as they roared by.

They touched down and taxied toward the main building, Pierre swinging the
plane around

on the ramp as far from the airport building as possible and pointed toward the taxi strip
that led

to the runway. The engines were still running as the flight deck door opened and Pierre
walked

back toward the exit.

"You people hang on," he yelled above the idling engines. "I'm going to check this
out.

The copilot has been instructed to take off quickly if it becomes necessary."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-346-

Matt grabbed his arm as he passed, stopping him momentarily. "Pierre! Is this the
only

way? Can't you send someone else?"

"It's the only way! Christ, I couldn't ask that kid copilot up there to do it. He
doesn't know

these people and couldn't tell if this was legit' or not."

"Can I help?"

"Yeh. Sit tight and keep these people calm."

He quickly went back to the door and opened it as two blacks outside dressed in
Sabena

service crew clothes rolled the steps up to the door. Matt watched Pierre walk across the
ramp

and disappear into the entrance past three whites who stood watching him. Everyone
inside the

cabin strained to see and some on the right side started to unbuckle their belts to move
over for a

better view.

"Asseyez-vous, Messieurs!" Matt shouted, his voice full of authority. "Attachez


vos

ceintures et ne bougez pas, comme Capitaine Dupont dit!"

They all quickly returned to their seats and fastened their belts, not one of them
offering

any resistance to his command.

He looked out the window and saw Pierre walking rapidly to the plane. Looking
in the

direction of the cockpit Pierre drew his forefinger across his throat in the universal sign
that meant

to cut the engines. He stuck his head in the door just as the engines died.

"OK, everything is safe, at least for the time being. But we're going to refuel and
load as

quickly as possible. This airport and the road from Albertville are in danger of being
overrun at

any time."

As Matt walked by him Pierre whispered, "They're firing not only rifles at people
coming

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-347-

out the road but also arrows and spears. That's how close they are."

As they waited in the small room just off the main lounge Matt and some of his
fellow

passengers talked with those who had been waiting for the plane's arrival. With the
addition of the

missionaries and the three black politicians the plane would take off full. There were also
others

who were waiting for planes to take them out.

A slow trickle of people kept arriving from Albertville having run the gauntlet of
the

attacking rebels and local tribes. The attacks were intensifying and reports were coming
in that the

attackers were becoming bolder. Matt listened as one of the Europeans talked about the
dangers

he had faced in getting to the airport.

"But especially those insane savages from the outlying area and the others that the
rebels

have picked up in the bush along the way. What they have done to both blacks and whites
is too

horrible to mention. Those damn Kabogo are the worst. Hell, the rebels themselves have
a hard

time keeping from being killed by them or them from killing each other. They don't need
to worry

about food. They say the heathen eat their own dead."

Matt touched the man's arm. "What did you say the name of that tribe was?"

"Kabogo. Why?"

"Oh...., no reason. The name sounded familiar - that's all."

'If they take over this airport before we get out of here,' he thought, 'there are
about a

dozen or so Kabogo that may see a familiar white face among this group.' He thought
back to the

time not long after he had arrived in Congo he had taken some photographs over the
objections of

Jason Sterling while surrounded by some colorfully dressed natives. He also remembered
having
been told later the name of their tribe. Kabogo!

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-348-

Pierre and his copilot kept everyone hopping and shortly all were back on board
with the

additional passengers. As they roared up off the field and out over the road Matt glanced
around

at the priests and Nuns just opposite him. They were looking down at those left behind,
their

hands clasped and lips moving in silent prayer.

-----------

The plane came to a stop as it's engines stuttered and died. Matt waited while all
of the

passengers disembarked and then the flight deck door opened and Pierre stepped through.
He

walked down the aisle toward Matt.

"Pierre, I understand you turn around and fly right back to Usumbura, nonstop."

"No such luck. I got a call on the way in. I've got to go back to Albertville and
then

straight back here. Seems the road's cut for good now and there are some people trapped
at the

airport and it's surrounded. Jack Snow is already on his way there and a DC-3 from
Usumbura is

being readied to go. With the three of us we should be able to get most if not all of them
out."

"Providing the airport remains secured," Matt added.

"Yeh!" Pierre started for the door - then turned. "Why did you ask me if I was
going back
to Usumbura? Did you want me to do something for you?"

"It was nothing. I can handle it on this end. Thanks." 'Now I have no choice,' he
thought.

'I've got to risk it.' It seemed that the bundles around his body were beginning to grow. He
pulled

the vinyl raincoat from his briefcase, unfolded it and put it on. Surveying himself he was

convinced that no one had ever looked more like a smuggler than he did at that moment.

Walking through the plane door down the steps and across the ramp with Fritz in
his arms

he began to perspire profusely from the combination of the extra weight and clothing he
was

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-349-

wearing as well as the anxiety he felt over what could happen if he were caught. The
raincoat held

in all of his body heat and it was intensified by the tropical sun overhead. By the time he
reached

the entrance to the Passport and Customs room he felt weak and nauseous. 'Christ,' he
thought, 'I

can't get sick or pass out. That's all I would need to do to draw attention to myself.'

He went through passport control without a hitch. It seemed an eternity while they
waited

in front of the counters as the baggage was being unloaded and brought in.

Finally it came and Matt lined up behind a little Englishman who had a portable
radio in

his hand.

"Where did you get the radio, Monsieur?" the Katangese Customs officer asked
him in
French.

"What?" The man's response had been in English.

The official looked at him quizzically. "Parlez-vous Francais?"

"No, I don't speak French. What is the problem?"

The perspiration was pouring down Matt's face, his whole body soaked
underneath the

raincoat and the wrappings containing the large sum of money. He felt light headed and
as though

he would pass out at any moment.

"Pardon me," Matt said weakly in English, "but he wants to know where you got
the

radio."

"Oh, thank you. I've had it for years. Bought it in England." The Englishman
peered

closely at Matt. "I say, are you all right? You look very pale."

"I'm fine.., fine." Matt then turned to the officer and translated what the
Englishman had

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-350-

said. The black spoke to Matt who then laboriously turned and spoke to the Englishman.
"He says

you must leave your radio here. He will give you a receipt and you can get it back when
you

leave."

"I won't do that," he shouted. "I brought it here to enjoy while I'm in the hotel
roo... hey!

What's the matter?"


Matt's knees began to buckle, his head swimming. The room began to whirl
around as the

Englishman grabbed him and the Customs officer quickly stepped around the counter.
They both

helped him to a chair against the wall.

"Which bags are yours, Monsieur?" the officer asked as he stood over him, a
concerned

look on his face.

Matt feebly pointed to his bags on the counter and the official walked to them. He
stood

looking at them for a few seconds, glanced back at Matt, then with two quick swipes
marked the

two of them with the white chalk he had in his hand. He motioned to one of the porters
waiting

nearby and instructed him to take the bags. He then walked to Matt, leaned down and
helped him

to his feet.

"Come, Monsieur, you need not wait any longer. Please follow the porter through
the

doors."

"Merci," Matt said weakly. "C'est tres gentil," and he shuffled through the door
behind the

porter, barely able to hold on to Fritz.

As he walked out into the waiting room Stephanie and the girls rushed up to him,
hugging

and kissing him and the struggling, ecstatic Fritz.

"What's wrong" Stephanie asked looking at him closely. "You look terrible. Are
you sick?
F. William Jung/KATANGA -351-

We heard about the conditions at Albertville and your stop there. We've been so worried."

"Let's just get out of here as quickly as possible," he pleaded, perspiration


cascading down

his face. "I've got to get this ridiculous raincoat off as well as another garment I have on

underneath. This 'sickness' just saved me from a lot of trouble."

They walked arm in arm, Matt leaning heavily on Stephanie. Walking behind
them were

three very happy little girls who were fussing over Fritz, the long absent sixth member of
the

Miller family.

--------------

Even though he had traveled this road from Kindugu to Goma so often he had
said he

could do it blindfolded, with headlights off and intermittent darkness when the three-
quarter moon

went behind the clouds, Tom Simpson came close to going over the edge more than once.
He had

disconnected the brake lights the previous day under the pretext that he was just repairing
the car.

They had quietly pushed the car down from the mission station through the trees and
to the

main road two miles below after having made certain all of the black mission workers
were asleep.

It was 3:10AM when they made their attempt, not wanting anyone to know of their plan.
They

had come to realize that even the most trusted long time friends and workers would revert
and
turn on them, even after decades of being together in as close a relationship that friends
or family

could have. The mood and manner of these people they had come to love and care for
over so

many years was changing daily and it was obvious the time was growing short before
they would

turn on the Simpsons completely no matter how much they tried to reason with them. It
was

happening all over Congo, many times to very close friends of theirs and with frightening
results.

After the initial push Tom had guided the coasting car down to the main road
where he

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-352-

started the engine and began the drive without lights along the rocky, winding road up
and down

the face of the mountainside that dropped to Lake Kivu below. If he were to use the lights
it

would almost certainly attract the attention of someone. They now began to occasionally
pass

through small native villages that were all in darkness. It seemed that the engine sounded
like a

tank but he knew the noise was minimal.

Laura sat at his side straining to see in the on-again, off- again darkness ahead
caused by

the disappearing, reappearing moon. She would occasionally look out the side window,
trying to

see how close they were to the edge. Gina and Claudia sat silent and upright in the back
seat,

afraid to speak or move for fear they would betray their position to someone out in the
darkness.

They had only the clothes on their backs and some food they had thrown together
in the

darkened kitchen. They could not do otherwise because it would have aroused suspicion.
They

had chosen this hour, midway through the night, as being the time that they were least
likely to

encounter someone on the road or awake in the villages through which they were now
passing.

Too late for anyone to still be up and too early for anyone to be awake yet, no matter
what their

work. If they were discovered there was no doubt in any of their minds what would
happen

to them.

"We should reach the abandoned mine road at first light," Tom half whispered.
We'll pull

off into the bush and out of sight as planned. At 2:OOAM tomorrow morning we'll
continue north

to Goma which we should reach with a couple of hours to spare before daylight."

It was not necessary to whisper in the confines of the car but somehow it seemed

appropriate in their desperate attempt to escape detection. As they approached each


village Tom

would ease up on the accelerator to quiet the engine as much as possible as they passed
between

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-353-

the darkened huts that lined the road. Beyond the villages he would gradually pick up
speed again.

It was just past 5:30AM when Tom brought the car to a stop. There was a faint
orange
glow on the crest of the mountains across the lake and to the east. Dawn would be upon
them

within the next 30 minutes and he had to quickly find the turnoff to the long closed mine.
He got

out of the car and looked up the road, straining to see in the half light.

"If my memory is correct," he said sticking his head back through the half open
door, "we

should be coming close to the turnoff. Unfortunately most of these curves look alike but
the

distance from the Mission is about right."

He climbed back into the car and quietly pulled the door shut. Putting the car into
first

gear he slowly approached the next curve. As they drove around the face of the mountain
he

swore. "Damn! Excuse me Laura - girls, but this isn't it. We've got to speed up and find it
fast

before the sun comes up."

"Mr. Simpson," Claudia pointed, "look! Lights!"

Looking to the north they saw the lights of an approaching vehicle winding it's
way

around the side of the mountain. From the running lights that were visible along it's side
it looked

to be a truck.

"I have no choice now," Tom said aloud. "I must speed up and we must find that
road

before we meet with that truck. It could be anyone, including the Force Publique. Hang
on

everyone! All of us must look for that road.!"


He jammed the pedal to the floor and the rear wheels responded, spinning and
skidding

over the dirt road causing the car to fishtail until the tire treads took hold. They sped
along the

road cornering very fast at each turn with all the occupants straining to see the life-saving
turnoff

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-354-

that must be ahead. All the while the lights ahead drew closer and closer as they
reappeared

around the mountain curves after disappearing momentarily. They were approaching
much more

rapidly now that Tom was racing in that direction.

They could not turn back. It would be daylight long before they would reach the
mission

station. If they were able to make it back how could they explain their actions to all on
the station,

particularly those who had become the activists and had been working to incite even the
most

faithful, and successfully, against the 'oppressive white masters.' Their sole hope was the
only

deserted turnoff that existed and for which they were now desperately searching.

"Judging by our closing speed with that truck," Tom was shouting now, "if we
don't come
to that road at one of the next two turns we're going to come face to face with them."

They sped around the next bend and Laura was the first to speak. "Tom, it's not
here!"

"Hang on, " he yelled, "let's go for the next one."

As they skidded around the next curve all eyes were on the left side of the road
ahead. As
they negotiated the turn they saw nothing but the face of the mountain extending to the
next curve

to the left ahead, around which must be the approaching truck. Claudia and Gina glanced
quickly

at each other, fear taking complete control.

"We have no choice, now," Tom said resolutely. He turned on the lights and
slowed the

car to normal speed. "We'll drive right by them as if we're out for a Sunday drive. Act as
natural

as you can. There's just enough daylight now for them to get a good look at us."

Laura and the girls eased back in their seats, staring straight ahead. They turned
the curve

as the truck appeared around the next bend. It drew closer and they could see that it was
an Army

truck with two blacks in the front seat.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-355-

'Now if only they don't decide to block the road,' Tom thought.

But the truck stayed in it's lane and as they drove past, the black uniformed driver
looked

curiously down at them, his lips moving in conversation with the soldier beside him. Tom
glanced

in the rear view mirror and could see that there were a number of armed soldiers lining
the

benches on either side in the back of the truck, all of them now looking at them, some
pointing in

their direction. As they followed the road around the next curve and lost momentary sight
of the
truck Tom floored the accelerator and they lurched ahead.

"Keep your eyes open for that turnoff," he shouted.

As they came up and around the next curve Gina glanced back. "The truck has
stopped

and they are turning around."

"It will take them awhile to jockey it around on this narrow road," Tom said. "If
we can

find that damned road, get off into the bush and let the dust settle before they get here, we

should---."

"Tom," Laura shouted, pointing to the left, "there it is!"

He slammed on the brakes, skidding half turned some distance down the road.
Jamming it

into reverse he backed to the edge of the road and swung around at an angle. Pointing the
car

toward the almost invisible entrance that was bordered on both sides by rock and thick
brush he

pulled into the opening with the bushes and tree limbs scraping along the roof and sides
of the car,

some flapping in through the open windows and hitting the occupants faces and upraised
arms.

He continued gunning the car into the bushes and trees that grew thicker and thicker and
that

closed behind them. He stopped the car and switched off the engine.

"I won't push it any further into this. I may damage the car or get us permanently
stuck.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-356-

This is far enough to be out of sight. All of you stay here. I'm going back just far enough
to see

the road. Relax and stay perfectly still. This road, or what's left of it, is known or
remembered by

very few people now. Unless they are smart enough to notice the dust we kicked up out
there

we're safe."

He made his way slowly back through the jungle growth where he took up a
position just

inside the bushes that lined the road. There was still considerable dust floating in the air
that had

been created by his tires. No more than a few seconds had elapsed when he heard the roar
of the

truck engine as it negotiated the curve just behind the point where they had turned off. It
was

obvious the driver was pushing the truck as hard as he could. Tom could not see the
oncoming

truck because of the angle and as he stared straight ahead through the brush at the road he
clasped

his hands together and closed his eyes in silent prayer.

The roar of the engine was now directly in front of him and he could hear the tires

rumbling against the road surface. Dust flew into the undergrowth and covered him. He
slowly

opened his eyes as the engine sound grew fainter. Waiting a few more seconds to make
certain the

truck sound continued to fade into the distance he made his way back to the car.

"We're safe. They didn't see or pay attention to the dust. Now we must be patient,
rest

here all day and tomorrow morning we should be in Uganda, God willing."

Their fitful attempts to sleep in the confines of the car that was hemmed in on all
sides and

from above by the thick jungle growth left them more exhausted than they were some
twenty

hours earlier when they had pulled off the main road. Tom had thought of Stephanie
knowing that

she was safe in Katanga, at least for the time being. The Hanscoms had let everyone
know the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-357-

moment they had heard from Matt. 'I wonder where and when we'll see each other again
and what

the circumstances will be?'

It was 1:48AM and Tom was making his way back to the car from the road where
he had

strained to see if there were any lights in either direction. Climbing into the driver's seat
he half

turned to face Laura beside him and Gina and Claudia in the back seat.

"As we planned we'll go through the same drill as last night, except hopefully not
running

into any trucks on our drive into Goma. We should arrive there in about two hours, four
o'clock,

when all but the border guards should be asleep. Maybe we'll be lucky and they will be
too," he

laughed. "Laura and I will try to bluff our way through as tourists with our American
passports

and with all of your documents from both The States and here in Congo," he said turning
to the

girls, "we're going to bluff you through as well. It's important that we all act as though we
speak
nothing but English so that we leave the impression we are all visiting Americans, even
during this

crazy time, including, especially including, you girls."

They both nodded in agreement.

"Don't slip and use any other language." he added.

He started the car and backed slowly through the parting, crackling bushes toward
the

road. He descended from the car to once again look up and down the road before backing
out

into the open. Turning in the direction of Goma they once again resumed the drive they
had

undertaken the night before.

----------------

They pulled around the bend in the road that led into the western edge of Goma
shortly

after 4:OOAM. The streets were dimly lit and all the shops were closed with no lights
apparent in

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-358-

the Hotel du Grand Lac on the left. The border crossing was at the opposite end of this
small

town on the very street they were traveling not more than ten city blocks away. As they
came

closer to the eastern edge of town they saw the brilliantly lit area at and beyond the
Customs shed

on the right and the barber-striped pole across and blocking the road. Ruanda was seventy
yards

on the other end of the stretch of road between the two countries. Tom snapped on the
lights, not
wanting to invite the question of why they were driving without them. In any case, they
were

now committed and had to go through with their plan.

He slowly braked to a stop in front of the barrier and sat waiting with the engine
running

and lights on. No one appeared from the shack. Tom glanced the short distance up the
road to the

barrier pole on the Ruanda side and had to fight back the urge to gas the car and crash
through to

the other side and freedom, but he knew that if there was anyone around and they acted
quickly

enough they could easily fire on them before they reached the other side.

"Wait here," he said getting out of the car. "I'll see if I can find someone."

Peering into the door he saw one black dressed in the uniform of a border guard
sitting in

a chair that was leaning up against the wall and facing the door, his automatic weapon
beside him.

He was sound asleep. Looking back over his shoulder Tom saw the customary lock on the
flange

that locked the pole in place. As he quickly looked around the small cubicle he spotted a
ring of

keys laying on a stack of documents on the small wooden desk just in front and to the left
of the

sleeping guard.

'I hadn't intended it to be this way,' he thought, 'but our chances are probably better
than

trying to reason our way through. I haven't said anything to Laura and the girls, but I
know they

have let very few cross the border for the past two weeks.' Many that tried were taken
away and

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-359-

interned, or worse, including some missionaries who had the proper exit permits. The
U.N. was

trying to negotiate their release but only God knew how it would turn out.

He leaned forward, squeezing the keys into his hand to prevent them from making
any

noise, then slowly backed out the door. As he turned toward the idling car he looked at it's

occupants and put his finger to his lips for continued silence. He then stepped up to the
pole and

began testing the keys in the lock, frequently glancing over his shoulder through the
shed's open

door.

He was beginning to think he did not have the right key ring when the next to last
key

clicked, releasing the catch and the lock sprung open. He slowly removed it from the
metal u-bolt

that held the flange in place and then walking across the road he let the pole's
counterweight on

the other end lift the pole up into the air. He got into the car and putting it into first gear
he

slowly released the clutch and with only slight pressure on the accelerator let the car
begin

creeping forward. Laura and the girls did not question his actions, knowing only that he
was

doing what was necessary.

Suddenly the silence was broken by a loud clanging! The telephone in the shack
that was
hooked up to an outside bell!

The guard's chair fell forward and he leaped up wide-eyed. The first thing he saw
through

the door was the car passing underneath the raised barrier. Ignoring the ringing phone he
reached

for his weapon and lunged through the door.

Tom knew that he had no chance to get out of firing range even if he accelerated
the car

to it's maximum, so he continued to move slowly ahead so that the guard would not panic
and

start firing.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-360-

The guard looked first at the slowly moving car and then back to the raised pole,
then

around the immediate area as though he were looking for the guard that had opened the
gate for

them. They were almost to the halfway mark some thirty yards beyond the puzzled guard.

Suddenly the guard shouted "Arretez! Arretez immediatment!"

Tom kept moving choosing to ignore the guard to support his claim of not
speaking

anything but English.

"Arretez," he screamed louder, "ou je vais vous tuer!" Suddenly the night's
silence was

shattered by automatic gunfire as the guard fired his weapon into the air.

Tom braked the car to a stop and threw open his door. As he climbed out with his
hands
in the air he said firmly but quickly, "Stay inside until I'm back there with him. When you
see I

have him fully occupied get out with as little movement as possible and go around to the
front of

the car, use it as a shield from his sight and go quickly to the other side."

"But Tom--" Laura started.

"Don't argue!" He said brusquely. "Don't question me now!" He turned and smiled
at her

and the girls, then started walking back to the guard who stood watching him, straining to
see

who else was in the car.

"I'm American!" Tom shouted in English. "American tourist." He knew the words

American and tourist would be familiar to the guard. As he approached the glowering
guard he

said "Passport my passport - here."

He placed himself in between the guard and the car behind him and slowly
reached into his

pocket pulling out his passport which he offered to the man.

The guard, holding his weapon in his right hand reached for the passport. As he
did he

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-361-

could not see the doors on the right side of the car partially open and the three women,
crouching,

slip around to the front of the car. The guard attempted to step to one side of Tom,
stretching to

see over his shoulder, but Tom moved with him and continued to block his view.

"We are on our way back to America," he said, pronouncing America clearly and
loudly,

"and we must pass."

The guard stepped to his other side and Tom again moved to block his view.

In a low crouch Laura and the girls began moving toward the Ruanda border now
some

twenty yards away.

Suddenly the irritated guard took one step back and raised his weapon pointing it
at Tom,

an angry scowl on his face. "N'bougez pas! N'bougez pas ou je vous tuer!"

He waved his weapon at Tom as a signal to move aside but Tom did not. With that
the

guard stepped to his right and saw the three women in the bright light ahead of the car
with only

fifteen or so yards to go. Tom knew that it was well within killing range. All the noise had
alerted

the two guards at the Ruanda station and they were now standing at their barrier watching
all that

was happening.

"Arretez! Arretez maintenant!" the guard shouted at the women. He raised his
weapon to

his shoulder just as a second unarmed guard raced out of the darkness from the town and
up to

them.

Tom grabbed the weapon, attempting to pull it away from the guard. "Run!" he
yelled at

the top of his voice, "Run and don't look back!"

The three women hesitated, then Laura, shoving the two girls forward screamed in
Swahili
so the Ruanda guards would understand, "Go - run quickly! I must go back for Tom."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-362-

"No!" Claudia shouted, we--"

"Go!" Laura screamed.

With that Laura wheeled around and began running back toward Tom who was
now

fighting with the two men for control of the weapon.

"Come quickly," the Ruanda guards shouted as Claudia and Gina stooped to pass

underneath the barrier to the Ruanda side.

Laura was almost back to the struggling men when she saw another guard running
from

the center of town. He had a broad-bladed panga in his hand.

"Tom," she shouted, "I'm coming!"

"Go back," he yelled, but he knew it was too late for both of them.

Laura and the third guard reached them at the same time and as they did the guard
raised

his panga above Tom's head. Laura ran in between them and as she raised her arms to
stop the

blow the razor-sharp machete descended swiftly, severing her arms off just below the
elbows. She

continued to hold the stubs of her arms up as a shield and with blood spurting into his
face the

guard raised the knife again and with the force of both his arms brought it down through
her head

splitting it in two down through the neck and shoulders. Laura had no chance to make a
sound.
Even though he did not see it Tom knew what had happened. He stopped struggling and
turned to

look down at her.

He caught the full force of the panga across his face, neck and upper torso. Blood
gushing

from the massive wounds he fell first to his knees and then forward across what remained
of

Laura.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-363-

Claudia and Gina looked on in horror in the safety of Ruanda. They were sobbing
violently

as they were led away.

As the BOAC aircraft climbed into the clear Kenya sky Claudia and Gina clasped
hands

tightly, tears streaming down their faces. They were on their way to America. Once their

documents had been declared valid and contact from the U.S.A. had confirmed their
status,

money had been wired for tickets.

"Is there anything I can do?" the stewardess asked. "It is always difficult to say
good bye,

but think about your next meeting and how happy it will be."

Claudia looked up at her. "Thank you - no. We have said good bye, but. . . . for
the last

time."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-364-
CHAPTER 14

George Lutz, General Manager of Universal Petroleum's local subsidiary, handed


him the

sealed envelope. "It's from Monique, Matt."

Matt hesitated, then took the envelope from him.

"She's so secretive about everything," George said. "Albert's death must have
affected her

much more deeply than we had all thought."

"Where did you see her?"

"I was just ending my leave in Brussels and bumped into her on Avenue Louise.
She

seemed upset at meeting me even though we've known each other for years. I invited her
to coffee

and I must say she accepted very reluctantly."

"Where is she living?" Matt was doing his best to act as though he was really not
that

interested.

"I know from others that she's not staying with her parents, but she made it clear
that she

is not living in Brussels. She's as ravishing as ever but she looks somewhat tired. That
beautiful

tan she always had is gone of course. Given way to Northern European white."

"How did she come to give you this message?" Matt asked fingering the envelope.

"Before we left each other she asked if I would carry a letter back to
Elisabethville. I of

course agreed and we arranged to meet the next day. She gave it to me then, making me
swear

that I would give it to you only."


Matt looked up from his desk at George. "I guess you must wonder why she sent
this to

me."

"Matt, mon Vieux, I never become involved in or question any goings on. I am
almost

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-365-

always wrong when I speculate so I gave it up years ago. Monique gave that to me
because she

knows I am, shall we say, discreet to a fault. I thought you knew me well enough to also
know

that."

"I'm sorry, George. I do know it, but believe me there is nothing to this."

"Please! Please! I don't want to hear it." He leaned over Matt's desk. "Now - I
have

something extremely important and exciting to tell you. I received a phone call this
morning from

- now get this - from none other than the all powerful Monsieur Michel Mutu, Minister
without

portfolio, mainly without portfolio because he is involved in everything. You and I have
been

invited to a command performance."

"Command performance with Mutu. What does that mean?"

"Not with him! He called to set up a meeting with President Moise Tshombe
himself!

Apparently Tshombe has expressed a desire to see us."

"You're joking. He doesn't even know I'm alive."


"You'd be surprised what he knows about you and all of us. In any case it's no
joke. We

are to be in his office tomorrow morning at ten. He specifically asked for you and me."

"What's it about?" Matt was still finding it hard to believe what he was hearing.

"Mutu wouldn't say and I didn't ask. I felt it would be inappropriate to question
the

President of the Republic and his right hand man."

"You're right of course."

"OK then, I'll see you in the morning a few minutes before ten." He turned and
walked out

of the office.

Matt sat staring at the envelope turning it over and over in his hands, undecided as
to

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-366-

whether he should read it or just throw it away unopened. Finally he picked up the letter
opener,

slit open the envelope and unfolded the two sheets of typewritten paper:

My Dearest Matt,

I know we agreed in the beginning that we would never


write or attempt to contact each other when we were
apart. However, I find that these many months of not
hearing from you, seeing you, or knowing how you
feel forces me to take this risk. Please forgive me.
After you left Elisabethville last September so much
happened and so fast that I still cannot believe it. I
know I need not relate it all to you. Surely you were
informed even before you returned to Africa.
The aching and pain that I feel inside and that never
leaves me is not only because of not having seen you
these long months but also comes from the realization
that you have made no effort to find or contact me.
This leads me to believe, God forbid, that you must
think the worst of me.
Please believe me when I say that in spite of what
developed between Albert and me after you left I love
you more than life itself. If you love me, even a
fraction of the love I have for you, you will not
question my motives.
I will not write you again. If you should choose not to
contact me then I will know and I will try to understand.
I give below a postal box address of a friend that I use for
receipt of mail. She reveals my location only with my
consent. I hope and pray you will contact me soon. My
daily vigil now begins for the letter to come that I desire
with all my heart and soul. Je t'aime, mon amour. Monique.

He reached for the lighter on his desk, clicked the flame to life and held it to the
corner of

the two sheets of paper. Pulling the large ashtray underneath the burning paper he
watched them

burn to his fingertips and then dropped them.

'What you've done to both Marcel and me,' he thought, 'can never be forgotten
simply

because of a few words on paper.'

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-367-

--------------

George was waiting in the reception area when Matt walked in at 9:45AM.

"Good morning, Matt. Anticipating your arrival I've already checked in with his

secretary."

"Good morning, George." Sitting down he whispered, "I've been trying my


damndest to

figure out why he wants to see us."

"I have as well, but whatever the reason I'm pleased at being given the
opportunity of

meeting the great man himself."

They waited some minutes in silence and just as Matt glanced at his watch the
European

secretary answered a buzz on her telephone. Hanging up she looked at them. "Messieurs,
vous

pouvez entrez."

They stood, glanced at each other apprehensively and walked through the door to
which

she had pointed.

The room was surprisingly small, almost tiny, but full of rich dark mahogany
furniture.

President Moise Tshombe, founding President of a new Republic that was being battered
from all

sides by forces from both the Western and Eastern worlds, all of whom were working for
it's

ultimate destruction, sat in an overstuffed leather chair to one side and in front of a
massive desk.

He stood and extended his hand to them, smiling broadly.

"Asseyez-vous, Monsieur Miller, Monsieur Lutz." He beckoned to each of them


to sit in

two similar chairs just opposite him. To Matt's complete surprise he had acknowledged
each

correctly when he had mentioned their names.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-368-

He was impeccably dressed in a dark pin-striped suit, well tailored to fit his well

proportioned frame. He was slightly shorter than Matt which made him somewhat taller
than the

average African in this area. His sparkling white shirt and red and blue striped tie were
perfectly

matched to the suit. He made a very impressive appearance.

"Gentlemen, I thank you for taking the time to visit with me," he said in accented
but

excellent French. "I know you have busy schedules in conducting your businesses,
therefore, I will

come straight to the point."

"It is a great honor for us, your Excellency," George said. "Both Mr. Miller and I
are very

pleased with the opportunity to meet you."

"Thank you. Messieurs, we are embarking on a program for the rapid education of
our

people employing a combination of the European and American systems. I won't go into
the

details but many things are being undertaken to accomplish this. In short, to supplement
our

formal programs, which will include the teaching of French and English as second and
third

languages, we would like to establish a library that would be well stocked with reference
books...

a gathering place for our people to become more intimately familiar with the American
people,

their culture, manner of speech, history - anything that will foster better understanding
between

our two countries." He turned to Matt. "What do you think, Monsieur Miller?"

Matt glanced at George, then speaking slowly while thinking about the proposal
he had
just heard said, "It sounds like an excellent idea, Monsieur President. As with many
similar

organizations, informal classes could be created for language study, history, music, all of
the

facets of American life that contribute to our heritage and makeup, varied and diverse as
it is.

Much of our heritage originated right here in Africa through black Americans."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-369-

"Exactly," he smiled. "Monsieur Lutz, what do you think?"

"I wholeheartedly agree! Sort of ... an America House!"

"That is an excellent name," Tshombe beamed. "We will call it that!"

"But how can we help, Monsieur President?" Matt asked.

"You two gentlemen are business leaders in the European/American community.


We

would like your assistance in establishing ..," he nodded approvingly at George, "an
America

House! We are making you co-chairmen and we will finance fifty percent of the cost
from

government funds. The other fifty percent we expect you to obtain through donations
from the

business community in support of this worthwhile project, which will ultimately benefit
your

companies by providing more well informed and educated Katangese to the workforce. It
will be

worthwhile not only to Katanga but to America and it's people as well."

He sat looking at them while they absorbed the meaning of the words he had just
spoken.
"Are there any questions, Messieurs?"

"There are many," Matt replied, "but they are with respect to details and logistics
and we

are certain you have someone in mind who will provide liaison with your government."

"Astute observation, Monsieur Miller. Please contact Monsieur Mutu, the man
who

contacted you for this meeting. He will be your man." He stood up and extended his
hand. "Thank

you again for coming. I know this will be a great success and will further the good
relations

between our two great countries. A relationship that we all know is essential in the fight
against

the ever-widening incursions of Communism."

Once outside George whistled. "How about that!? I wonder what they'll do to us if
we're

not successful? And how about Mutu being our contact man? It's obvious they're placing
a lot of

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-370-

importance on this one."

"I'm anxious to meet Monsieur Mutu. You and I both know he wields a lot of
power in

this government and he has the ear of both Tshombe and his European supporters."

"Seems you have something in mind other than America House," George said.

"It's nothing dishonest, believe me, but I do have something in mind. Yes ..,
something

in mind."

-----------------
Over the ensuing weeks Matt traveled incessantly shuttling back and forth
between

Elisabethville and Leopoldville, Stanleyville, Kampala - anyplace where he could arrange


a

meeting with prospective buyers for the company's finished goods inventories and assets.
He was

forced to take circuitous routes through Rhodesia, South Africa, Brazzaville in the former
French

Equatorial Africa and East Africa to get to his destination in or close to Congo. At times
he

would be unable to get into a particular area because conditions at any given time could
turn sour,

making it necessary for him to arrange a meeting over the border or in some safer place
within the

country. These conditions could change from one day to the next, even in a matter of
hours,

making it hazardous to travel into those areas that were reported calm for the moment.

During those periods when he was in Elisabethville he would haunt the Katangese

government offices attempting by every honest means possible to obtain the export
license that

would permit them to ship the factory's machinery and equipment out of the country. For
some

reason they were not rejecting the application but neither would they approve it. It was
always

'being processed by such and such a department. 'You will just have to wait your turn.'
While he

was traveling Walter Wagner was as equally persistent following Matt's instructions, but
to no
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-371-
avail.

After having met the large dealer Dendrinos twice in Bunia, once in Fort Portal
and finally

in Kampala, Matt concluded negotiations with him for the sale of all of the company's
assets in

Orientale Province. Dendrinos would take possession, paying against the usual signed
notes. In

this case payment would be half in East African Shillings thereby permitting him to enjoy
the

lower price, which also enabled Consolidated to recover half their investment in a
currency that

was easily converted to U.S. dollars. The balance was paid in Congolese Francs at a
higher price

and deposited to Consolidated's account in their Leopoldville bank where attempts to


repatriate

all of their funds would be an ongoing necessity.

Matt was very much relieved since Stanleyville and Orientale Province continued
to be

one of the most unsettled and volatile parts of Congo. It was a powder keg ready to
explode, and

the comparative remoteness of Stanleyville and Paulis, two major cities with large white

populations, made them traps from which flight was extremely difficult, if not
impossible.

But the seceded Katanga represented a special, highly dangerous problem.


Because of the

increased frequency with which it's borders were being violated and it's people being
tortured and

killed by the Baluba, Lulua and Congolese rebels, Tshombe and his supporters stepped up
the

recruitment of men for his mercenary Army. These mercenaries were rarely visible in
Elisabethville. From time to time they would come into the city for periods of rest and

recuperation, but even then they would remain inconspicuous.

Insofar as Matt could determine Marcel had not been seen in or around
Elisabethville since

before the Millers had returned from their home leave many months before. Word would

periodically be received that he was safe and alive. Matt was puzzled by the fact that
Marcel had

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-372-

made no contact with them since their return to Africa. He knew that Marcel must know
that they

were back in Congo. Possibly he was not coming into Elisabethville because of anger and

embarrassment over Monique's actions.

Conditions were so fluid and constantly changing that it was extremely difficult to
obtain

factual information as to what was really happening in Congo. Matt and Stephanie were

concerned about friends and associates in the Bukavu area who as far as they could
determine

were still there. Reports were coming out of the area that it was rapidly becoming one of
the most

dangerous in which to live.

A little more than one month after Matt had been to Bukavu to close the sale of
assets to

Lenoir a story was filed by a wire service that confirmed all of their fears. Names of close
friends

were given and in a manner that heightened their anxiety:

SEIZED BY CONGOLESE TROOPS


RELEASE OF AMERICANS IN CONGO
SOUGHT BY UNITED NATIONS

Leopoldville, the Congo


The U.N. command sought today to obtain the release of six American
missionaries and their families arrested while trying to flee rebel-held Kivu Province.

White refugees said the missionaries, their wives and 17 children - 29 persons in
all - were seized by Congolese troops while trying to cross the Ruzizi River into the
Belgian trust territory of Ruanda-Urundi Saturday.
The Americans reportedly were stopped at the frontier bridge leading to the
Ruanda town of Shangugu, put in Congolese Army trucks, and driven to Bukavu, the
provincial capital controlled by followers of deposed Premier Patrice Lumumba.
The only families known to have been in the party were the Reverend Doctor
Peter Hanscom, Sr. and Mrs. Hanscom, Rev. and Mrs. Ken Hargrove, Dr. John Horvath,
Rev. and Mrs. Kling and Rev. and Mrs. Baxter.

REFUSE TO RECOGNIZE PASSES


Congolese troops refused to recognize the group's passes, other refugees said.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-373-

In north Katanga Province Swedish U.N. guards fought off Baluba tribesmen
attacking a train near the town of Bukama Sunday. Three Swedes were wounded and
several tribesmen were reported killed.
A U.N. spokesman said 120 Swedish soldiers aboard the train were moving from
Elisabethville, capital of Katanga, to Kamina to relieve U.N. Moroccan troops on another
train that was attacked by the Balubas last week.
The relief train finally reached the Moroccans, the U.N. spokesman said, and the
Swedes provided covering fire as the Moroccans switched trains.
The U.N. Command announced it would not officially answer a demand from the
Congo's Foreign Minister, Justin Bomboko, that the Indian head of the U.N. Congo
operation, Rajeshwar Dayal, be removed.
Bomboko in a letter Saturday denounced the entire U.N. operation in the Congo
and charged Dayal showed partiality to factions backing Lumumba.

Try as they might Stephanie and Matt could get no further news of their friends. On
his

travels to Uganda and other parts of the Congo Matt never failed to question anyone he
thought

might have news of them. Then they received a letter postmarked Kampala, Uganda.
Dear Stephanie, Matt and Children,
We have thought of you so often and wonder if you are still in Elisabethville and
how you are and how things are there. We are living in a house owned by Makerere
College not far from the Petersons and they too speak of you and wonder how you are
getting along in these troublesome times in Congo. We would all be very pleased to have
news from you!
It was good to see you, Matt, before Christmas in Bukavu. After that, as you
know, things got pretty 'hot' when Stanleyville soldiers took over, kidnapped Muruhu, set
up road blocks, confiscated all the gasoline, etc., began to arrest and beat up
Europeans.When Mobutu's soldiers tried to come in from Ruanda bullets fell on our roof
and in trees nearby. Vincent Roper was badly beaten when he tried to come into
town; Patrick was arrested when someone gave the report that at Kasheke where we spent
some of our time, we had a transmitter 'to call Belgian paratroopers.' After being detained
several hours he was allowed to return home. Well, things just seemed to go from bad to
worse. Stores
closed, stocks were low.

Europeans were fleeing across to Shangugu in native canoes; the border was
tightly closed. No one could pass without a permit. Then news came from the north that
all of our people had left the main station again by a back road in the night with Dr. John
and his wife and another nurse, all in the same car. They had difficulty at the border and
waited five hours to pass over into Uganda though they had permits. Morris family,
Sweeneys and two single ladies from Kitsombiro tried to get out by the same route but
were arrested near Butembo - the men put in jail, the families under 'house arrest' at the
hotel in Butembo, our two doctors at the mission station forcibly held there, all cars
confiscated.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-374-

The UN finally sent troops who were able to get their release and found most of the cars,
escorted them to Goma and then across to Uganda.
But Laura and Tom Simpson, God bless them and keep them in His loving care,
did not fare so well. In saving Claudia and Gina Antinucci they were both viciously
murdered at the Goma border crossing. They gave their lives so that those two lovely
young ladies might live. The girls are now safe Stateside and living with their sponsors
and we are forever grateful to Stephanie for having arranged it for them.
It then seemed that we must all evacuate - Kihindo folks had left, also those from
Goma and Ruanguba. We waited nearly two weeks to get permits to cross the border, then
all of our southern missionaries, Hargroves, Klings, Baxters, Horvaths, Barry Stout (his
wife and family had already gone to US) left in our cars for Shangugu and Kampala.
After our departure our house was ransacked and wrecked, everything of value taken,
windows broken, doors forced open, etc. and the place occupied by Africans as were all
empty houses in Bukavu. Most of our missionariès have left by special plane for USA.
What a change in so short a time! None of our missionaries have returned to
Congo. Our field is still not calm because of the dissident group there who want to take
over our stations and threaten violence. Some Africans had to leave and are now in
Uganda.
We are thankful to the Lord for His care over us and all our missionaries. It is a
miracle we were able to escape - except for the Simpsons and our children who the Lord
saw fit to take from us. We have met so many Europeans who were beaten and mistreated
terribly. What a sad, sad state Congo is in! But not only Congo - many people in these
parts sit on uneasy seats and wonder how long they will be able to stay. All the South
African families from near Lubero are in Kenya. Some feel they must go back to South
Africa - then what?
Each Sunday we have a service in our home and Sunday School for the children.
We think of you and your children who attended in Bukavu.
We trust that you are all keeping well and are able to keep calm, trustful spirit. We
wonder if you can carry on much business, Matt. Are you able to travel to other sections
of Congo? One hears varied reports from different people.
If you ever come to Kampala while we are here, do look us up.
The Lord bless you and keep you 'under the shadow of His wings.' Our love to
each of the children, Betsy, Lisa and Jenny, and to you both.

Your friends, The Hanscoms

----------------

Matt had made a number of trips to Leopoldville attempting to dispose of the


finished

goods inventory and assets there. It was also there that company funds were accumulating
in

banks as a result of monies being transferred from bank branches at Stanleyville, Bukavu
and

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-375-

Usumbura that represented continuing payments from customers. He was doing all
possible to

arrange for the repatriation of these funds to The United States.

He knew time was running out. Efforts in The United Nations to bring about
stability in

Congo and to bring Katanga back into the new republic were gaining momentum,
although still

somewhat disjointed and confused. The future of the current Congolese government was
very

much in doubt, with chaos, corruption and atrocities rampant. While the Congolese Army,
backed

by UN forces, was attempting to quell Katanga's secession, crisis after crisis erupted
throughout

Congo. After a quarrel between Kasavubu and Lumumba, the Army commander Colonel
Mobutu

had seized control of the government.

Lumumba's repeated failures to regain control over the country had not
diminished his

ability to incite the masses with fiery speeches denouncing capitalism, The United States,
the

former Belgian colonialists and the whole western world, blaming them for all of Congo's

troubles.

In contrast, the Katangese were begging the West for support of their illegally
created

republic. All day long broadcasts emanating from the government controlled radio in

Elisabethville beamed out the message, "Ici Radio Katanga, ou la lutte contre le
communisme

continue" - "This is Radio Katanga, where the fight against communism continues."

But no help was forthcoming nor was any being promised. On the contrary The
United

Nations Security Council's efforts and actions were all being directed to bring about the

destruction of this illicit regime.

Finally President Tshombe called for general mobilization to meet the mounting threats to

Katanga's existence. A special edition of the Elisabethville newspaper, 'L'Essor du


Katanga',

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-376-

carried headlines that covered half the front page and clearly stated the position of Moise

Tshombe and his government:

En reponse aux resolutions du Conseil de Securite


M O B I LI SAT I O N
GENERALE
AU KATAN GA

Under the headlines calling for a general mobilization in response to the actions
of the UN

Security Council, details and instructions were given to the populace as to how they
should

conduct themselves in defense of the homeland. The article ended with the stirring words:

En outre, le Conseil des Ministres a decide' que la


nationalité Katangaise sera accordée a tous ceux, Noirs
et Blancs, qui le desirent.
Nul n'a le droit de porter atteinte aux droits
imprescriptibles d'un citoyen Katangais.
En cette heure cruciale, que tous se serrent autour du
gouvernement pour la defense de la Patrie!

VIVE LE KATANGA INDEPENDANT!

It was the text of a message given by Tshombe over the radio

that same day and beamed to the world:

Moreover, the Council of Ministers has decided that


Katangese nationality will be accorded all, Blacks and
Whites, who desire it.
No one has the right to attack the rights of a Katangese
citizen.
In this crucial hour, all will rally round the government
for the defense of the Fatherland!

LONG LIVE INDEPENDENT KATANGA!


The United States continued to maintain a consular office in Elisabethville,
refusing to

elevate it's status to that of an Embassy thereby according de facto recognition to an


illegitimate

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-377-

regime. Maintaining the Consulate not only provided an indication that it was still
considered part

of Congo but it also served the valuable purpose of keeping lines of communication open
between

Katanga and The United States for intelligence purposes.

As is so often the case when people are thrown together and are confronted with a

common danger and hardship, they find solace and comfort in each other's presence. So it
was

with the European community in Elisabethville. Although they continuously assured each
other

that Katanga had the right, strength and ability to remain a separate, strong country, with
few

exceptions they knew that these were false hopes.

The community was together constantly, always arranging outings, receptions,


dinners,

sports events in which they took part... any reason they could dream up that provided the

opportunity to get together. When the adults would be engaged in some activity in which
the

children could not participate the children would all be brought together and cared for in
one

house by a selected group of the adults.


Working together with The United States Consulate staff, emergency procedures
and

escape routes were developed in the event the area was threatened or came under attack.

Periodically there would be meetings to go over and then rehearse the plans. They
established a

system with code words in order to telephone each other during the day and during the
night if

any member of the family would be traveling in order to assure that all were safe. Not
one person

questioned the necessity of these actions and all went about the business of participating
to the

fullest extent. All of them realized the precarious position into which they had all been
brought

together.

------------------

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-378-

Stephanie had put the children to bed an hour before and had just finished talking
to

Marguerite on the phone, it being Marguerite's night to make safety check calls. For the
caller's

safety if they did not make their call at the prescribed times, immediate investigation
would begin

to determine why. Matt had left for Leopoldville two days earlier and would be gone a
total of six

days. In spite of the precautions he was becoming more and more concerned about the
safety of

Stephanie and the girls. The Baluba and Lulua had started to raid deeper and deeper into
Katanga,
often attacking at night just a few miles from Elisabethville. Tshombe had pulled back
some of his

troops to patrol and protect the surrounding area.

Rafael had finished cleaning up after dinner and had retired to his room in the
detached

building at the back of the garden for the night. Stephanie was settling down in a chair in
the

living room with Fritz at her feet to continue the book she had just started that afternoon.
She did

not see Fritz lift his head, his ears pointing to some sound that was not apparent to
Stephanie.

Suddenly she was startled by a loud thumping on the front door. Fritz began to
bark as she

leaped from the chair and stood staring at the door, a flash of fear racing through her. She
waited

a few seconds, holding her breath and not moving, hoping that whoever it was would
decide to go

away. She was startled again as the pounding resumed, this time louder.

She could hear muffled voices beyond the door in a language she could not
understand.

Then it stopped. Except for Fritz's continued barking there was silence. She walked
cautiously to

the door and just as she reached it the pounding began again. Now she could hear loud
yelling,

still unable to make out what was being said. She backed away from the door as the dog
stood his

ground just in front of it, his frenzied barking adding to her fear. The pounding suddenly
stopped

again and she could not detect any voices.


F. William Jung/KATANGA
-379-

Bracing herself to strengthen her voice she yelled, "Who is it? What do you
want?"

No response, but she could hear the muffled voices again. She started toward the
dining

room and the telephone to call Marguerite following the prescribed instructions in case of
an

emergency. Then the unmistakable voice of a black yelled something in a tribal tongue
that she did

not recognize, but she knew that it was being said in anger. Immediately that the voice
stopped

the pounding began again but this time the door was being battered by some hard object
and the

thick wooden boards immediately began to crack and give. Fritz leaped and snarled at the
door as

it began to disintegrate before Stephanie's eyes.

"Mommy, what's wrong?"

Stephanie turned and saw Betsy standing in the doorway to the hall that led to the

bedrooms. She rushed over and picked her up.

"Nothing, sweetheart. You go back in Lisa and Jenny's room and keep them quiet
while

they.. uh.. fix the door."

She put her down and Betsy shuffled sleepily down the hall while the heavy
object being

used to batter the door began to splinter an opening in it's center. The voices outside
could be

heard more clearly now. She could not understand what they were saying but there was
no
mistaking their intentions. Too late to get to the phone and make the call, she quickly
moved to

her left and grabbed her purse from the coffee table taking the small 7mm automatic from
it. As

Matt had indicated it was to always be within easy reach. She snapped a bullet into the
chamber

and clicked off the safety just as she and Matt had practiced so may times, then took a
few steps

to position herself in front of the door leading to the hallway and the girls' bedrooms. She
knew

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-380-

Rafael's quarters were too far away at the back of the house for him to hear the
commotion. 'In

any case,' she thought, 'he would be of little help. He's too old and tiny and they would
make short

work of him.' He was their only house boy and the gardener was not a live-in.

Large pieces of wood began to splinter off the door, some bouncing off the little
black

dog who was still barking and standing his ground. Stephanie was shaking uncontrollably
as she

raised the small pistol in both hands and pointed it at the opening in the center of the door
that

was now large enough to see movement outside. There were seven bullets in the handle
clip and

one in the chamber. She hoped they would be enough. She started to squeeze the trigger
knowing

that to hold them off would depend on how many of them there were.

The trigger began to resist the pressure just before firing when suddenly the
shouting
outside changed to shouts and screams followed by gunshots. As Stephanie quickly
stepped back

from what she thought would be their line of fire she could see through the hole in the
door that

there was violent fighting accompanied by cries of pain and more shots. She realized that
now

some of the shouting was in French.

The movement in front of the door stopped as did the shouting. She continued to
stand

shaking, the gun pointed at the door. Torturous seconds passed and then she again
detected

movement through the opening in the door. Fritz continued his barking and seeing the
movement

he leaped at the opening that was too high for his small frame to reach. Stephanie pointed
the

weapon at the movement and again began to squeeze the trigger.

"Stephanie!" a voice yelled above Fritz's barking. "Are you in there?"

Along the sight of the pistol Stephanie saw a familiar face peering through the
hole in the

door.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-381-

"Oh my God!" She dropped her arms to her side, gasping.

"Stephanie! Open the door - it is all right now!"

She walked to the door as if in a daze and unbolted it. She pulled at the door at the
same

time it was being forced open from the other side. As it finally swung open Marcel
quickly
stepped in and caught her just as her knees buckled. He held her as she continued to
shake

violently. Turning he shouted commands at his yet unseen men outside.

"It is all right now, they are gone and will not bother you again." He yelled at the
barking

dog. "Fritz! Fritz! It is me, Marcel, an old friend. Quiet boy - lay down!"

Suddenly realizing that Marcel presented no threat the dog began to whine and
jump up to

Marcel's legs, his tail wagging furiously.

"Marcel - I can't believe it's you," she said still clinging to him tightly. "I thought
it would

all end horribly."

"Come on, let us sit down." he said, helping her to the sofa. He sat beside her
holding her

shaking hands in his.

Looking at him closely for the first time she noticed he was dressed in the
camouflaged

uniform of the mercenaries. He had a few day's growth of beard that somehow
complemented his

handsome face. His epaulettes carried the insignia of a Captain, the red beret of the
mercenaries

tilted to one side. He was a strikingly good looking man and the uniform that was tailored
to fit

snugly to his trim waist and well proportioned muscular body accented his tanned good
looks.

"I... I must see if the girls are all right." She got up and walked to the hall, Marcel

following close behind. She slowly opened the door and the light from the hall revealed
Betsy
now in bed with Jenny and Lisa, all sound asleep

.
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-382-

"I can't imagine how they slept through all of that," she whispered.

They closed the door and walked back to the sofa in the living room. Three of
Marcel's

men were busy boarding up the damaged door with the shattered scraps that had been
battered

from it.

"How did you happen to be here at just this moment?" she asked.

"Contingents of our forces have been patrolling close to the city for quite some
time now.

The reason it is not publicized is to avoid exciting the people about some of the enemy
being so

close."

"But how is it possible that it happened to be you and not someone else?"

He smiled. "Stephanie, a squad of my soldiers has been in this area for weeks with

instructions to be especially watchful where this house and it's occupants are concerned.
They

have never been far away. I also have personally checked myself from time to time
without your

knowledge."

"But why haven't you come to see us? Everyone keeps asking about you - where
you are

and if you're all right. No one has seen you since just before we came back to Congo."

"I... well..., we mercenaries are supposed to keep a very low profile as you must
know."
"We do know, but at least some are seen occasionally. We haven't seen you at all
and we

consider you a very close friend."

He stood up, his back to her. "Frankly, I felt it would be better if I were not too
visible

after what happened to Albert. Everyone knows how I felt about him. How I hated him."

"You had nothing to fear. He was hated by everyone. If it wasn't robbery, as they
say,

anyone of many could have killed him."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-383-

"Still - I had very special reasons for hating him as you also know." He turned,
looking

down at her. "Where is Matt? Traveling as usual?"

"Yes. He's in Leopoldville and won't be back until Saturday."

"I understand everything is going well for him. He apparently is being successful
in

dismantling the operation.'

"He's working very hard, Marcel. Too hard. We don't see each other very often
and when

we are together his mind is elsewhere. At times I get the impression that he's punishing
himself for

something."

He sat down beside her again.

"You look well, Marcel. Better than you have since I first met you - it seems so
long ago -

in Leopoldville."
"I finally got myself together again," he said. "It is unfortunate that it has come
about as a

result of the Congo going up in flames."

"Have you... heard from Monique?"

He looked at her intently. "Why do you ask?"

"No one has heard from her or about her since she left Congo. I thought maybe
you had."

"I only know that she is safe in Europe. That is all that I can tell you. You do
know that

any feeling we had for each other died a long time ago."

"I'm sorry for bringing it up. Please forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive. Now," he stood up, "I propose I stay here tonight,
that is if

you don't mind. I instructed the patrols to keep close watch for any more of those people
but I do

not like you being here alone with that front door shattered. By the way, they were
Baluba." He

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-384-

reached over and picked up the phone. "Just as I thought. They have now learned to cut
the

phone lines just before making their move."

"Then even if I would have had time I couldn't have reached Marguerite." She got
up and

went to the hall. "I'll fix up the guest bedroom. Are you hungry? Is there anything you
need?"

"If it is not too much trouble a good hot shower to scrub off this accumulation
from the
bush. A shave would be most welcome and a sandwich or something would be fine."

"I'll get your room ready and then get you something to eat. The bathroom is
down the

hall to the left."

"I'll get my gear from my Landrover outside."

They were sitting across the table from each other sipping hot coffee, Marcel
clean shaven
and dressed in Matt's robe.

"I had almost forgotten what it feels like to be entirely clean."

"Marcel, how is it out there?"

"As you know I was born and raised in Africa, but I never had to live under the
conditions

we face. The biggest problem is maintaining control over our native troops. We are never
sure

what they will or will not do. We have lost a lot of good men because of it."

"Can you hold them off?"

"We would like to think so. We are getting stronger and greater in numbers. More

mercenaries are coming in from all over the world and we are training the blacks as
rapidly as we

can." He paused, sipping his coffee. "But if a concerted effort involving U.N. troops and
their

firepower is undertaken I am afraid we will not be able to hold out for long without
strong

outside help. We just cannot understand that The United States and the western world
cannot see

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-385-

what is happening here and spreading through the rest of Africa as well. The Russians
and

Chinese are the sources of communism that will eventually engulf this whole continent."

"Please take care of yourself. You know how Matt and I feel about you."

He smiled. "You know, I have been in and around this area off and on for weeks
and most

of the time I have known when Matt has been away. On a number of occasions when I
knew he

was away I found myself thinking up reasons to come and see you. You will never know
how

often I have watched you come and go from out there in the bush. Does that surprise
you?"

She was caught off guard. "I appreciate your concern for the girls and my safety."

He reached across the table and took her hand. "That was not the only reason I
have

watched you or wanted to see you."

"Marcel - you must know we have missed you terribly. I couldn't understand how
you

could stay away for so long without a word. Do you realize I haven't seen you since you
visited

with us in Bukavu.?"

Stephanie pulled her hand from his, stood up and began gathering up the cups and
saucers.

As she passed by him he stood, taking hold of her arm. She stopped and he turned her
toward

him. No resistance was offered and he leaned forward and softly kissed her. He took the
cups

from her and placing them on the table put his arms around her. She hesitated, then slid
her arms

around him and they kissed again, this time fully and without restraint, their bodies
pressed

together tightly with only thin robes separating them.

"Marcel," she said, her head resting against his chest, "this is wrong."

"No more wrong than..." he caught himself, as if struggling with the words, "than

thousands of others who find themselves in similar situations."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-386-

She slowly slid his arms from around her waist and stepped back. "You will never
know

how difficult this is for me."

He reached out, took her hand and kissed it, his eyes never leaving hers. "I think I
knew

all along it would be this way. Matt knows he is fortunate to have you but he can never
know

how much."

Neither of them slept until early morning, he being tempted time and time again
to take the

few steps down the hall to her bedroom. She lay there very much doubting whether she
could, or

even would resist if he should come into her room.

Just as the morning sun was slicing through the slatted blinds Stephanie was
wakened by

voices. She got up quickly, slipped on her robe and went down the hall into the foyer.
Marcel was

standing tucking his shirt into his trousers while barking orders at the two black noncoms
in front

of him. They saw Stephanie and saluted as she walked in, then turned and walked out.
Marcel
was obviously in a hurry.

"Good morning." he said smiling. "I must go."

"Can't you have breakfast first? I'll call Rafael."

"I was looking forward to it but something has come up. I have been ordered to go
with

my company northwest of here on an urgent mission."

"I understand. Please be careful, Marcel."

He smiled. "This is a mission where there is no danger, but if carried out properly
it may

go a long way toward providing a solution to this whole rotten mess."

He grabbed his gear and walking to her leaned forward and kissed her.

"Marcel..., about last night."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-387-

"Do not say anything. My male ego is hurt, but you must know how I feel about
you. I

have felt this way since my first trip to Bukavu. The only consolation I have is that the
man that I

consider to be my closest friend is the one who possesses you."

"We will always be friends? Close friends?"

"If I did not think it would so and that I would not be able to see you occasionally
I would

not be backing off so easily. I would use all my wiles to steal you away from Matt."

He started out the door and then turned. "There will always be a squad of troops
watching

from now on. You do not have to be afraid ever again."


"Thank you, Marcel. You be very careful, for Matt and me."

-------------------

Matt was sitting at a table at the sidewalk cafe next to the Regina Hotel in
Leopoldville

talking to Lenart Proell about the tactics that he had been employing with Eric Brown
these past

four days to obtain the best deal possible in the sale of the company's property and
inventories.

"I'll be going back to see him at three o'clock," Matt said, "after he has had a
chance to

discuss our latest offer with his new General Manager, Boutin. If he buys the deal we'll be
selling

off everything at an average of 7 percent above our minimum. It will provide them an
opportunity

to profit handsomely as well."

"Let us hope it goes through," Lenart said. "It certainly has been a long drawn out
affair.

How many times have you come to Leo on this?"

"Since my first trip in late December after we had returned from home leave, let's
see..., I

think this is the fifth trip. I'm hoping we can wrap it up this time. I don't like the way
things are

shaping up in Katanga. Their being able to continue existing becomes more doubtful
every day. I

wish we all had a clearer picture as to what will happen to Lumumba and what part he'll
end up

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-388-

playing."
"Pardon me, Monsieur!"

Matt turned and looked at the man who had spoken to him from the table next to
them. It

was the first time Matt had noticed that the other tables in the cafe were empty, which
was

unusual at this time of day. Looking down along the boulevard he noticed that U.N.
military

vehicles full of troops were pulling up to the main intersections.

"Yes, Monsieur?" Matt responded.

"I heard you mention Lumumba. Have you not heard?"

"Heard what?"

"He was killed today! Taken to Katanga and turned over to the Katangese. Some
say he

was killed when he tried to escape, but I believe..."

Matt jumped to his feet. "Killed! Are there any troubles there? In Katanga I mean.
Is there

any fighting?"

"I do not know, Monsieur, but if I were in Katanga now I would take every
precaution."

---------------

He had been able to get on the next flight to Johannesburg the following day and
from

there made a connection to Elisabethville. Rioting had begun throughout Congo as the
news of

Lumumba's death spread.

As he drove up in front of the house he was greeted by the shattered door. He leaped from

the car and ran inside shouting, fearing the worst had happened.
"Stephanie! Stephanie! Where are you?! Are you all right?!"

She suddenly appeared in the doorway leading from the terrace in back. "It's all
right!

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-389-

We're all okay! The girls are in back playing."

He swept her up into his arms and kissed her repeatedly.

"I've been worried sick and when I saw that door! What the hell happened?"

She quickly told him how Marcel and his men had saved them. Later as they sat
drinking

an aperitif before dinner Matt told her how he had been made aware of Lumumba's
"accident".

"So there have been no reports of any troubles here in Katanga as a result of
Lumumba's

death?" he asked.

"No, none at all. When the news came it was all over the front page of the
newspaper and

on the radio and nothing out of the ordinary happened. The reports started coming in
about the

rioting in Congo but that's little change from what they have there already."

"Fortunately it was relatively calm in Leo," he said. "The U.N. troops reacted
quickly and

made their presence very well known."

"Matt."

"Yes?"

"We must keep this to ourselves because if my suspicions are ever made known.,
Marcel's
life might be endangered."

"What do you mean?"

"When he left here in such a hurry yesterday morning he said that he had received
an

urgent call to take his company of men to the northwestern part of Katanga."

"And?"

"He also said something about a mission and if it were successful it might
somehow help

in solving Congo's problems."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-390-

"You said he indicated he was going to the northwest?"

"Yes. Do you think he ...?"

"I don't know," he interrupted, anticipating her question, "but the reports have it
that

Lumumba was shot to death as he leaped from the back of a Katangese military truck...,

somewhere in northwest Katanga!"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-391-

CHAPTER 15

It had been one month since George Lutz and Matt had met with President
Tshombe

about The America House project. It was progressing well and the word coming down
from

Tshombe was that he was very pleased. Donations were well ahead of plan both in
amount and
timing and a location had been selected. Work was to begin on the renovation of the
large, old

home that was situated on an acre of land not too far from the Presidential Palace.

Both Matt and George had become close friends of Minister Mutu as a result of
their

being in contact with him on the project. As they were wrapping up one such meeting
with him in

his office one evening Matt lingered on after George had left.

"Monsieur Mutu, I wonder if I might take a few minutes of your time on another
subject?"

"Certainly! What is it?"

"As I am certain you know we have a factory here that has been closed for some
months

now. The initial investment and ongoing costs to my company have been a tremendous
burden.

For various reasons, all of which I know you are aware, the prospects for that situation
changing

in the near future are almost nil." He paused, searching for some sign of sympathy on
Mutu's face

and finding none.

"I must be frank with you, Monsieur Minister, because the last thing I want to do
is leave

the impression that I am trying to do anything dishonest." He took a deep breath and then

continued. "I have been charged with the responsibility of doing everything I can to
dismantle and

ship all of our machinery and equipment out of Katanga. In a very straightforward
manner,

following all of the rules and regulations, I applied for an export license to carry out my
F. William Jung/KATANGA
-392-

assignment. It has been seven months now and in spite of continued follow up by all of us
doing

everything we have been instructed to do, many times over and over again, no license has
been

forthcoming."

"What is it you are asking of me, Monsieur Miller?" He looked pensively at Matt.

"I seem to have exhausted every means at our disposal, short of bribery."

The Minister's body stiffened and the change of expression on his face left no
doubt that

he was definitely not happy with the remark. Matt quickly held up his hand.

"No! No! Please do not misunderstand! I do not intend to try that, either now or in
the

future. It is against my company's policy, and if it were not they would need to replace
me

because I would never be a party to it."

Mutu relaxed noticeably. "Go on."

"I am asking you, Monsieur Minister, openly and honestly and without anything
being

requested of you or anyone else that would break any law or rule, if you could please find
a way

to break the bottleneck that is holding up our application."

The Minister stared at Matt for a few seconds. "You must know that quite the
contrary to

what you are asking, we want investment to come in, not go out of Katanga."
"I know, your Excellency, but for my company to sustain these additional losses
until our

political situation is resolved is punishing someone who some day may want to invest
much more

than is represented by this factory." He had intentionally emphasized the word 'our' when
making

reference to resolving Katanga's political situation.

He gazed at Matt thoughtfully, then suddenly standing he said with finality, "I
believe our

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-393-

discussion has ended."

Matt's heart sank as he quickly stood up. "Thank you for your time, Excellency."
He

turned and quickly left the Minister's office. Depressed and frustrated he had little hope
that

anything would come of his meeting, just as everything else had failed in his attempts to
get the

machinery and equipment out of the country. Mutu's sudden and abrupt termination of the

discussion left him wondering if he might even possibly have made an enemy of the
powerful man.

Life, personal as well as business, could be made very difficult for him and his family if
Mutu

willed it.

Two days later he began to feel that his worst thoughts were becoming a reality.
He

started to compose a cable to Head Office to that effect.

"Monsieur Miller," Yvonne's voice came over the intercom on his desk, "a
Monsieur

Butanga is on the phone and wishes to speak to you."

"I don't know that name but I'll take the call." He picked up the phone. "This is
Miller.

Can I help you?"

After a brief conversation he walked out of his office and confronted the staff.
"That was

Monsieur Butanga, Deputy Minister of Trade, calling on behalf of the Minister of Trade.
"He

paused for effect. "I would like you all to know," he announced in a loud voice, "that I
have been

instructed to present myself at the Ministry of Trade office," he paused again, then smiled
broadly,

"to pick up the export licenses for our machinery and equipment!"

The now shrunken group of people all stood, clapping.

He turned to his secretary. "Yvonne, please get me a room in Ndola tomorrow


night. I'm

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-394-

going down to Northern Rhodesia to arrange for a bonded warehouse so we can store
everything

there until we decide what will be done with it. We've got to get it out of here and across
the

border quickly before someone changes their mind or conditions change. Tell Jason to see
me in

two hours. We must get moving and scrape up all the wood we can find to start crating

everything. When I get back with those export licenses in my hands we'll cable The
States with
the good news.

He started for the door, then turned. "You know, if this goes through without a
hitch the

only thing still to be accomplished is the Leopoldville deal."

------------------

"I ran into Paul Renard's wife, Louise, at 'Bon Marche' today."

They had just sat down to dinner. Matt had arrived two hours earlier from a two
week trip

to Usumbura and Kampala.

"Oh. How is she?" Is Timmy over the mumps yet?"

"Matt!" Stephanie said, "He's been over the mumps for at least at least three
months."

"I'm sorry. I lose track of time when I'm traveling."

"When you're traveling? When don't you travel?" She hesitated, then watching for
his

reaction she continued.

"She told me Monique is back from Belgium."

He froze for just an instant, then recovered quickly, certain she had not noticed.

"Oh. How does she know she's back?"

"Louise and Paul were at the airport last weekend to meet their neighbors who
were

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-395-

returning from Belgium. Monique was on the same plane."

"I wonder why she came back?" he said, attempting to sound disinterested. "She
has no
one here now. She and Marcel are divorced."

"She told Louise she had found life difficult in Belgium and that this was where
all her

friends were. She apparently will begin working as a secretary in one of the ministries. A
Belgian

friend who is in the Katangese government arranged it for her."

They continued eating in silence.

"Matt."

"Yes?"

"Do you think that Marcel and Monique will get together again? It's been a long
time since

Albert was killed and with him gone it could make a difference."

"I don't know. You never know how dramatically people can change, or..., appear
to have

changed, when they were actually not the person they seemed to be all along."

She looked at him curiously. "What does all that mean?"

"Nothing... really. I'm just tired from the trip. They may still care for each other -
who

knows?" 'It's hard to tell what Monique has in mind,' he thought, 'but whatever it is I'll not
play

the fool again.'

It was at his nightly stop at their personal post box at the Central Post Office that
he saw

her. He had just removed the mail from the box that was located on the exterior wall of
the post

office building. As he turned and started down the steps he heard the familiar voice.

"Hello, Matt."
He looked up from the mail. She was standing at the bottom of the steps and he
quickly

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-396-

noted that just as George Lutz had said she was as beautiful as ever. He looked away and

continued walking down the steps, intending to completely ignore her.

As he passed by her she said softly, "Matt - please! Do not let us leave it this
way."

He stopped and turned. "You were not concerned before about how things were
left. We

have nothing to say to each other. You said it all when you let it be known how it really
was

between Albert and you."

She reached out and touched his arm. "There were things going on of which you
were not

aware and I..."

He pulled his arm away brusquely. "You bet there were things going on! Spare me
the

details." He started away, stopped and turned. She looked shattered. "One more thing. If
we

see each other again let's just act as though we'd never met."

He walked to his car and she stood watching him as he drove away, unmoving.
Then she

slowly turned and walked down the street away from the post office, the man for whom
she had

decided to return to Africa having just voiced his intense hatred for her.

Conditions were deteriorating rapidly and the pressure being applied on Katanga
both
politically and militarily was reaching the crisis point. Congolese troops now supported
by United

Nations soldiers were being mobilized in a somewhat more organized manner. The
objective was

to cause the downfall of Tshombe and his regime and bring Katanga back as part of
Congo by

force. It was in this kind of atmosphere that Matt received a letter from his superior at

headquarters in The States:

Dear Matt:

1.) We have decided that in order to better our business in

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-397-

Africa we need a Zone Director to oversee Regional


Representatives in these territories. You have been
chosen for this promotion and we would like you to
arrange to move to Lagos, Nigeria as soon as possible.
2.) You have accomplished all of the objectives we had
set for ourselves in the Congo except for the sale of our
Leopoldville inventories and assets. Your latest reports
indicate that you are close to finalizing an arrangement
for their disposition, but even if it is not concluded
you should be prepared to depart Katanga in no more than
30 days. This should give you ample time to wrap up your
personal affairs and turn over what little remains to be
done to Jason Sterling. He will be given responsibility in
a capacity that is described below.
3.) You will be responsible for the following men and their
respective territories as shown below. They will be located
in the country indicated to the right of their names:
a.) R. R. Engels - Lebanon
Libya, Egypt and all of Middle East excluding Turkey.
b.) R. J. Lawrence - Ghana
Guinea (French), Guinea (Portuguese), Ghana, Liberia,
Sierra Leone and Gambia.
c.) S. A. Winkler - Tangier
Morocco, Canary Islands, Gibraltar, Spain and Spanish
Sahara.
d.) J. G. Kent - Ivory Coast
Senegal-Mali, Mauritania, Ivory Coast, Voltaic
Republic, Niger, Dahomey, Togo, Cameroun, Gabon,
Congo Republic (Moyen), Central African Republic and Tchad.
e.) H. A. Reynolds - Tunisia
Algeria and Tunisia.
f.) Jason Sterling - Mozambique
Angola, Mozambique, Malagasy Republic, Mauritius, Reunion, Sao
Tome and Republic of the Congo (ex-Belgian Congo).
4.) As you can see, through Jason Sterling you will still be
responsible for the Congo and can continue guiding him in
bringing our affairs there to a conclusion.
5.) Congratulations on your new assignment. It is a demonstration
of our feeling for a job well done by both you and your family.
6.) Keep me advised of your travel plans. Good Luck!
Sincerely,

R. Kirkland

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-398-

Matt decided to make one more trip to Leopoldville in an attempt to conclude the
sale to

Eric Brown. He arranged that the trip would take place the week before their leaving for
Nigeria.

During the three weeks preceding their scheduled departure Stephanie and Raphael
busied

themselves with packing and preparing their household and personal items for shipment.
At the

end of the third week all had been shipped and was on it's way to Nigeria in West Africa.

Stephanie and the girls would stay in the house the last week using a few borrowed items
from

friends. When Matt returned from Leopoldville they would then spend the two remaining
nights in

the Grand Hotel Leopold II, fly to Nigeria via Ndola, Northern Rhodesia to
Johannesburg, South
Africa and then on to Accra, Ghana for a one night stopover before proceeding the
following day

to Lagos, Nigeria and their new home.

-------------------

"But, Monsieur Boutin, I was under the distinct impression that Eric Brown and I
had

struck a deal. Now you seem to be renegotiating some of the matters already resolved
concerning

price and terms. Eric said my meeting with you would only be a formality." Matt was
doing his

utmost not to telegraph his frustration to the man sitting opposite him.

"Quite the contrary, Monsieur Miller! As the new General Manager of Monsieur
Brown's

firm and now holding a share of the company, small as it may be, I am very much
interested in

playing a part in the arrangements to be made."

"It seems then that a deal is not a deal in this instance irrespective of the part you
or

anyone now plays. Is Eric aware of all this?"

"Please do not be upset, Monsieur Miller. Maybe there was some


misunderstanding as to

whether full agreement had been reached."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-399-

"There was no misunderstanding on my part," Matt said as he stood up. "After


these many

months we finally came to an agreement for the takeover of all the inventories and assets,
a
takeover that is very favorable to your company. It's very simple - you are backing out of
the

agreement."

"No, no! Let us just say we should continue the negotiations in order to determine
if we

can obtain, under the circumstances, better conditions for my company."

"Circumstances? What Circumstances? Nothing has changed."

"Mais certainement, Monsieur Miller! The situation in Congo and Katanga has
reached

crisis proportions. You must rid yourself of these items urgently. That being the case how
are you

going to, let us say, sweeten the pot?"

"The 'pot' is sweet enough already, and you know very well the advantage of
having these

goods and assets instead of currency. Eric and I have gone over this many times. Also,
you are

not the only firm that is after us for these items. There are others right here in Leo who
have been

pushing us to sell to them but the past relationship we have had with Eric has kept me
from

turning to them. You do know, of course, that along with purchase of the assets goes
exclusive

distribution rights for the area, a facility that your company has enjoyed up until now but
will lose

if we sell to someone else." He paused to let his words sink in. "Now you leave me no
choice but

to open discussions with the others." He turned and walked toward the door.

"Monsieur Miller, when are you returning to Elisabethville?"

"I'm leaving in three days. That will be plenty of time to contact the other firms
and

finalize the sale to one or more of them."

"Please do not conclude anything until I can get back to you by, say... noon day
after

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-400-

tomorrow. Monsieur Brown will be back tomorrow morning from his trip to the interior
and I will

talk to him. Then if we can still do business we will have one more day after that to
handle

formalities before you depart the following day. But please be advised Monsieur Miller,
that

nothing has been cast in stone."

Matt looked thoughtfully at the wall, acting as if he were deciding whether to say
yes or

no.

"All right. But I will go ahead and open discussions with the others. I will attempt
to make

it contingent upon your not accepting."

"Good! I will phone you at the Regina before noon day after tomorrow."

As Matt turned to leave Boutin asked, "Monsieur Miller, who are the other
companies?"

"I am not at liberty to say." He turned and walked out, knowing that he had
nothing to do

between now and Thursday when the phone call would be made with the hoped for news
that Eric

and that pompous bastard would stick by the original agreement. There was no other
single
company that was in a position financially to take this on and his only hope would be to
sell

everything off in parcels. It would take an enormous amount of time to negotiate with
each, most

probably many weeks.

He would just have to attempt to bluff his way through knowing that there was a
real

possibility that it would fail. He would then be faced with the prospect of leaving Jason
Sterling

with an almost impossible task.

It was late afternoon and Matt was sitting in the small office occupied by Lenart
Proell.

"I really wanted to wrap up this last bit of business before leaving for Nigeria. All
of the

time and effort put into this just wasted because of Boutin's desire to make his mark. I
don't like

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-401-

saddling Jason with this one. We've used up all of the larger firms and the only real
prospect left is

Eric's company."

The phone rang and Lenart picked it up.

"Consolidated Industries!... Yes, he is here. Hold on please." He handed the phone


to

Matt. "It is the U.S. Consulate across the river in Brazzaville."

"Miller here! .... Oh, hello, Harry." He listened intently, the color rapidly draining
from his

face. "Holy Christ! You're certain? Are they being protected? Any casualties? Who?" he
yelled.

"Damn it, I've got to know more than this! .... I'm going back on the next plane! .... I don't
give a

damn, I have to get to my family! I only hope they're still alive. Harry - please keep me
advised -

and thanks."

At Matt's last words Lenart jumped to his feet. "What the hell was that all about?"

"Elisabethville - the whole area - has come under attack by the Congolese
supported by

United Nations troops. They're shelling the city. Many casualties. I've got to get back!
Today's

plane is already gone. Lenart, please get me on the plane tomorrow."

"I will go down to the agency right now." He raced out of the room.

Matt picked up the phone and dialed a number. He waited impatiently while it
rang.

"Monsieur Boutin s'il vous plait!" He paced back and forth. "Monsieur Boutin, maybe
you've

heard but Elisabethville is under attack... Yes!. It's been confirmed. I check in with a
friend at the

U.S. Consulate in Brazzaville each time I come here. He phoned me... Yes, I'm trying for

tomorrow's plane. You can still call me until noon tomorrow .... Thank you. Au revoir!"

He was trying to concentrate on the business documents in front of him but was
not being

very successful. He had been sitting by the phone in his room for almost two hours. It
was now

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-402-

11:43AM and he had to leave no later than noon for the airport. The call from Boutin had
not yet

come through. 'Certainly if the answer is positive he would have called me by now,' he
thought.

Most of his thoughts, however, were on what was happening hundreds of miles
southeast

of where he sat. The news coming out of Katanga was confused and contradictory but it
was a

certainty that Elisabethville was under siege and in danger of being surrounded and
overrun. It

was impossible to get information about anyone. The city was being attacked from the
north and

west with encirclement being attempted around to the east and southwest. It was being
heavily

mortared and attacked by air.

He would attempt to take the usual route up from Northern Rhodesia, thinking
that the

Katangese would surely keep that road open at all cost since it was the principal route for
supply

and escape. He glanced at his watch again. 11:56!

"Damn!" he swore out loud. "I've got to go!"

He threw the documents into his attache case, grabbed his luggage and went to the
door,

opened it, glanced at the phone and then pulled the door shut behind him. As he turned to
leave

he heard a muffled ring. He dropped his luggage and fumbled in his pocket for the key,
finally

coming up with it. After struggling with the lock he threw open the door and raced for the
phone

almost knocking it off the night table.


"Miller here!" He attempted to suppress the anxiety in his voice.

"Matt, this is Eric Brown. Glad I caught you."

"Hello, Eric. I was just leaving. Did you talk to Boutin?"

"Just now. I didn't get back from the interior until a few minutes ago. Got held up
on the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-403-

road by an accident. Sorry to hear about E'ville. Hope you find all okay."

"Thanks, I appreciate that. Eric - I must go! What's the verdict?" He held his
breath.

"When two guys from Ohio make a deal, it's a deal, just as we discussed."

"Thanks, Eric." he expelled the air from his lungs silently and raised his right fist
in

triumph. "It's mutually beneficial, as you know."

"I'm confident of that. Now catch that plane! We pray to God your family is safe
and

unharmed. And you be careful!"

The flight from Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia to Ndola, Northern Rhodesia was
only

slightly late and as was his usual custom he had left his car at the airport. After picking up
his car

he drove immediately to the center of Ndola, finding conditions at the airport and in the
town

reminiscent of their escape to East Africa.. Refugees from Katanga were everywhere with
the

streets full of vehicles bearing Congolese license plates.

He went to the lobby of the hotel to check the listing of evacuees who had arrived
and
their whereabouts. This was the agreed upon method to make it easier to locate friends
and

family. He did not see his family's name on any of the large chalk boards standing in the
lobby of

the hotel. Through the shoving and pushing crowd around the boards he did manage to
find Jerry

Malone's name and his location in town. Jerry was a member of the Consulate staff in

Elisabethville.

He raced the Mercedes to the school gymnasium across town, the place that had
been

indicated next to Jerry's name. Running into the gym he found Jerry and his family close
to the

entrance. They were sitting on blankets placed on the floor as so many others had done all
around

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-404-

the large arena. Some had situated themselves in the bleachers along the sides.

"Jerry! Connie! What about my family? The evacuation plan..., did it work?"

"Matt! Matt Miller!" Jerry jumped to his feet. "We knew you were in Leo. Have
you been

to E'ville yet?"

"No! I just got back. What about my family?" He was yelling now.

"I... I'm afraid the evacuation plan didn't come off too well, Matt. Uh... too much

impatience on everyone's part." His eyes dropped, he seeming not to be able to look at
Matt while

he talked. "Most..., went their own way. We've seen some but with all the disorder and
confusion
it's impossible to say who got out and who didn't. The way is still wide open though and
they're..."

"For Christ's sake, Jerry! My family! What about my family?!"

He looked up at Matt sheepishly. "I'm afraid I don't know. The shelling and then
the

attacks came so suddenly. We didn't think they would do it. Not like this. Maybe they're
already

out. I don't know...."

Ignoring him Matt turned and ran back out to the car, determined now to get to

Elisabethville as quickly as possible to find his family, praying that they were alive and
safe.

He was pushing the Mercedes 220 to it's limit on the road north, concentrating on

negotiating around vehicles and people that filled the road on their way south. All the
while he

looked furtively for any faces or cars that might be familiar. The closer he got to the
Katangese

border the more congested it became. Often he had to leave the road to get past. It
seemed he

was the only one going in a northerly direction.

When he arrived at Chingola on the border it was as if the whole world had gone
mad.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-405-

Europeans and blacks alike were trying to cross over from the Katangese side. He knew
that there

was a chance that Stephanie and the girls could be part of the stream of refugees pouring
south.

He yelled his way through the barriers on both sides of the frontier and they let him
through
quickly, more because they were astonished at the direction he was going than anything
else.

The road on which he was traveling, now in Katanga, was a mass of humans and
vehicles,

some on foot and some in vehicles which were of every size and shape. The dust was so
thick it

made it difficult to see, filling his nose, throat and eyes. He bounced alongside the road
more than

on it. Now there was the occasional military vehicle moving in the same direction in
which he was

going, some containing white mercenaries.

He had been following a large military truck full of black troops for some distance
when it

came to an abrupt stop blocking the road ahead of him. He was now just a few miles
outside of

Elisabethville. He braked to a stop, stepped out and peered around the truck. Katangese
troops

had set up a road block and were checking out the truck and it's contents. As the truck
pulled

away he got back into his car and drove up to three black soldiers who were blocking the
road. A

white mercenary, lieutenant's insignia on his camouflaged battle fatigues, was standing
off to the

side of the road watching. There were a dozen or so soldiers just off the road also
watching. No

one was stopping the mass of humanity that was heading south toward the Northern
Rhodesia

border. One of the soldiers stepped up to the window.

"Papers please."
Matt handed him his I.D. card and the soldier glanced at it, his automatic weapon
slung

over his shoulder, compared the photograph with Matt's face and then handed it back to
him.

"Where are you going?" he shouted above the noise.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-406-

"To Elisabethville. As you can see," he said pointing to the I.D. card, "I live
there."

"Do you know the city is under attack? We are to allow no one but military
personnel to

enter."

Matt strained to control himself. "My wife and children are there," he yelled
above the

roar of passing trucks and cars. "I must get to them!"

"I am sorry. You must turn back. I have my orders."

For a split second Matt thought about throwing the car into gear and crashing the

blockade, but the heavily armed troops gave him no chance of making it through.

"But I cannot desert my family," he said, intentionally loud enough for the
European

officer to hear. He opened the door and stepped out.

"You cannot block this road, Monsieur!" the black soldier shouted. "There are
military

vehicles waiting behind you."

Ignoring him Matt walked the few steps to the European and holding out his I.D.
card

pleaded. "Please! I must get to my family. One more white added to those already in there
won't
make any difference."

The lieutenant made no move to take the card.

"If you would just contact Captain Marcel Ivanov! He would verify who I am. He
knows

my family."

At the mention of Marcel's name Matt detected recognition on the mercenary's


face. The

officer hesitated, then took the I.D. card.

"Pull your car off to the side of the road." There was a decided German accent in
the

otherwise well-spoken French.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-407-

Matt drove the car off to the right side of the road permitting the line of trucks
that had

been waiting behind him to drive past. The lieutenant walked a few yards to a large tent
just off

the road and disappeared inside. Matt switched off the engine, got out of the car and
waited.

Fifteen minutes had gone by - minutes that seemed as if they were an eternity. All
the

while the mass of humanity flowed by in the swirling, choking dust and tumultuous
noise. He

looked intently at everything and everybody, hoping to see his family or at least someone
he knew

that might know of their whereabouts.

He was just about to walk to the tent when the flap was pulled back and the
officer came
toward him.

"Colonel Ivanov has vouched for you. He has just taken over this sector."

"Did he say anything about my family?"

"No."

Matt's heart sank. "Am I free to go?"

"Yes, but Major Ivanov has instructed me to send someone with you. You are to
wait for

him at the main intersection just before entering the city. Believe me, Monsieur, you will
need the

help. Things are going from bad to worse. Much of the city is being mortared and they
are getting

ever closer with small arms fire." He turned to the soldier that had first questioned Matt
and

ordered him to accompany him.

They climbed into the Mercedes and waving Matt pulled back onto the dusty,
packed road.

A short while later he arrived at the designated intersection where he again pulled off to
one side

in order not to block the traffic, switched off the engine and waited. The stream of
vehicles

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-408-

continued south amid clouds of dust. He could now hear intermittent explosions in the
distance

with clouds of smoke visible here and there in the city. There seemed to be more in the
north and

western sections, the area in which his house was located. The waiting was almost
intolerable.
Another eternity passed, or so it seemed. He paced back and forth beside the car
while the

soldier that had accompanied him stood passively watching.

A Landrover followed closely by a weapons carrier full of troops came bouncing


up along

the peripheral road that skirted the city around to the west. Sitting beside the driver was
Marcel

who was pointing at Matt and yelling at the driver. They came to a skidding halt in a
cloud

of dust in front of the car and Marcel leaped out. Grabbing Matt's hand they embraced.

"Hello, Matt! It has been a long time."

"While I was waiting I realized how long. Marcel - what about my family? Do
you know

where they are?"

"I thought you might have seen them. Hopefully they are safe in Rhodesia. I was
informed

they were on their way after I heard from Lieutenant Steiger about you."

"I kept looking for them but it's impossible to see anything clearly in this terrible
mess,"

Matt shouted.

"I just arrived from Northern Katanga about four hours ago." Marcel yelled. "I
was called

in to take over our defenses."

"How does it look?" Matt yelled back.

"They have shelled and overrun parts of the city's outskirts, particularly on the
western

edge. Your house was right in the middle of the first sector to go. Completely destroyed!
We had
some men there who assisted in some of the evacuation. That squad I assigned to your
house

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-409-

managed to get Stephanie and the girls out just as the mortaring started. It took me a
while to find

out about them after I arrived. Many Europeans, a lot of them our friends, Matt, are dead
or

wounded. I discovered that fortunately all of Consolidated's families got out safely.

"They have turned the secondary school - you know - the one close to the center
of town,

and the surrounding houses into shelters for the lightly wounded and those Europeans
that are

still waiting for evacuation. I understand they have taken only the most seriously
wounded to the

hospital." He placed his hand on Matt's arm. "Matt!"

"Yes?"

"Monique! The sector in which she was living was also destroyed before they
overran it. I

was told she is wounded."

"And?"

"I do not know whether she is dead or alive. I must go to find her! She is all alone
Matt."

"What for?" Matt said contemptuously. "After what that bitch did to you and...
and how

she made a fool of you and all of us! Let her..."

Matt reeled backwards against the car from the smashing blow to his face, blood
spurting
from his split upper lip and the gash on his cheek. The surprised black soldier quickly
raised his

weapon and pointed it at Matt. Marcel waved him off, his legs spread apart in a fighting
stance.

Recovering quickly Matt clenched his fists and started for Marcel, his instinct to
fight back

taking over. The black soldier stepped in between them brandishing his automatic at Matt.

Blood streaming down his face Matt yelled, "I don't know what the hell that was
for but

call off your damned bodyguard and let's finish whatever you started!"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-410-

"First you will listen to me - then we will fight!" Marcel screamed back. "You are
the one

who feels he has been played for the fool! And only because of your stupidity. You think
she

dumped you for Albert - that while she was having an affair with you she and Albert were

laughing behind your back?"

Matt stood listening, an astonished look on his face. "You knew about us?"

"From the beginning! It was never a secret between Monique and me."

Matt slowly unclenched his fists. "But why did she do it Marcel? Why did she end
up with

a man she and everyone else hated so much? A man who almost destroyed you! Ruined
your

marriage!"

In a calmer voice but still needing to yell above the noise around them Marcel
walked
closer to him. "Monique and I are realists. The rapidity with which our marriage
disintegrated was

only accelerated as a result of Albert's efforts. It would have eventually ended anyway.
The

dreams of parents for childhood sweethearts would have never worked.

"As for Albert, you bloody fool," and now there was anger once again in his
voice, "she

agreed to marry him because he went to her the day after you left E'ville and said he was
going to

expose all to Stephanie. He vowed to ruin your marriage and career by whatever means
he needed

to employ and you know what that son-of-a-bitch was capable of.. She loves you, Matt,
though

how she could continue to love you I do not know! You have thought the worst of her,
acted

these many long months as if she did not exist."

"But why didn't she tell me? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you! She could not overcome your rejection of her. You did not give her the
chance.

But more importantly, she... she would have had to admit that it was I who killed Albert!"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-411-

"Then it was you who killed him."

"Everyone else suspected me, why not you? I was at the frontier in the north when
I

received the news of their engagement. I knew something was wrong so I came straight
to

Elisabethville without telling anyone. I am certain you must have heard that he had all but
moved
in with her. When I arrived she was alone.

"She soon told me why she had agreed to marry the snake. She would not let him
ruin

you. He..., he came in while we were talking. There were some words..., he threatened me
and I

killed him! I insisted that Monique leave for Belgium on the next plane and made her
promise not

to return. They might have forced her to answer some questions that could have proven

embarrassing for both of us."

"But...," Matt said, "the police report states he was missing a few days, then his
body was

found on the steps in front of his house."

"I kept his body hidden for two days, then decided rather than have him disappear
with all

of the speculation that would follow I would set it up as a robbery. With some influence I

arranged for a short-lived investigation."

"What a damned fool I've been!"

"You bet your stupid ass you have. Monique would not let me tell you. Why do
you think

I have stayed away from you all this time?"

"I've never had the chance to thank you for what you did for Stephanie and the
girls that

night I was away."

"Lucky we were close by. Now! I must get cracking and find Monique while I
work on

the southern and southwestern defenses of E'ville!"


F. William Jung/KATANGA
-412-

"I'm going with you!" Matt shouted.

"Like hell you are! I don't know how long we can keep this road open and it is the
last

route of escape!"

"Marcel - I said I'm going with you! I must try to see Monique - to talk to her and
tell her

what an idiot I've been. You can't deny me this otherwise it will haunt me for the rest of
my life,

and it must come from me, otherwise you know she won't believe it."

Marcel started to reject his plea, then wavered. "If she is still alive .... Okay!
Come on!

Follow me!"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-413-

CHAPTER 16

As Matt followed Marcel into the city careening around corners and up side
streets to

avoid the mostly military traffic, he noticed that this southern and eastern section of the
city had

not yet come under attack, wondering how long it would remain so. In the Landrover
ahead he

could see that Marcel was continuously talking on the field telephone directing the troops
under

his command. They reached the center of the city and the damage from the shelling
became more

apparent, with fires burning in some of the buildings and little effort underway to put
them out.
There were very few people on the streets except the occasional vehicle that sped by,
some

carrying wounded.

They raced through the center of the town down the main street. After a few
blocks to the

north the Landrover squealed to the left and headed toward the northwest section of the
city. The

rumble of exploding shells was much closer now.

Both vehicles came to a stop at the curb in front of the school. They leaped out
and ran up

the few steps to the large double doors that were standing open. There were a number of
soldiers

and some white civilians waiting on the lawn and front porch of the school with more
milling

around the houses adjacent to and on the opposite side of the street.

As they raced into the large crowded entrance hall Marcel grabbed a uniformed
nurse who

was passing. "How can we find out if someone we are looking for is here?"

"There is no other way but to look, Colonel. We are providing shelter for whoever
comes

in and treatment for the lightly wounded. Names are not important."

"What about the houses?" Matt asked her.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-414-

"Same thing. The only way is to look," and she hurried away down the hall.

"The school is large." Marcel said, "but there are only two floors. You take the top
floor
and I will take this one. We will meet back here!"

"Okay!" Matt grabbed his arm. "Marcel! - Why have they stopped shelling
the city?"

"They were only softening it up before. Now they are concentrating on those
areas into

which they will be moving very shortly. I must tell you that we are losing ground rapidly.
Now let

us hurry!"

Matt ran up the wide steps in front of him dodging around and over the people
who were

standing and sitting there, some of them bandaged and all of them looking weary and
frightened.

"Please, please," he said half aloud, "make her be safe and unharmed."

As he ran he looked at every white face hoping to see her or to see a someone
familiar

who might know where she was. Moving rapidly down the hall he looked into each
classroom

with it's student's chairs and instructor's desk. People were sitting and standing
everywhere

waiting for the fighting to stop and hoping for some means of transportation to arrive to
carry

them out of danger. He finished covering his floor and raced back down the stairs where
he found

Marcel waiting.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing," Marcel answered. "I saw Pierre Egmont and he said he has not seen or
heard

anything of her."
"Let's go!" Matt said. "We still have the houses."

They both ran out and down the steps. Matt grabbed Marcel's arm. "You start on
that side

of the school, I'll go this way. We meet back here."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-415-

They both turned and ran in opposite directions. Matt could hear the crackling of
small

arms fire in the distance now intermingled with the mortar explosions. He went around
the corner

of the school and up the steps of the house closest to the school. The sights in the house
were the

same as in the school only much more crowded. He emerged shortly unsuccessful. As he
started

up the steps into the next house he was stopped by Marcel's yell and turned to see him
running

toward him.

"I know where she is! They first brought her to this area but then took her to the
hospital."

"That means she's badly hurt or they wouldn't have taken her there. It's only a few
blocks

from here. Let's go!"

The hospital grounds and interior were indicative of the intensity of the fighting
with

wounded laying on the front lawn, in the reception area and along the halls. As they
reached the

front door they both saw it at the same time. A number of bodies that were completely
covered

with blankets were lined up on the veranda to their left. Glancing at each other they
walked over

and proceeded to lift each blanket, peering down at the faces under them, afraid that one
of them

would be someone they knew.

"Matt, come here."

He walked to Marcel who was holding a blanket above the head of one of the
bodies. He

had to force himself to look down.

"George! George Lutz!" The face was ashen and had a grotesque, pained look on
it.

"Jesus, Marcel. I can't believe this is happening."

Marcel slowly lowered the blanket back down over the face of their friend.
"Come on, let

us continue our search inside. Monique is not here."

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-416-

They ran inside, both looking around the reception area.

"Not here," Matt said.

"These floors cover a large area and have many corridors and rooms," Marcel
said. "This

time we will both look on the same floor. You take that half and I will take the other. We
will

meet here after we finish. If we have not found her then we will go up to the next floor."

They looked at each other apprehensively, then went in opposite directions.

It was obvious that the doctors and nurses who were racing back and forth were
being

taxed to their limits and a large number of the wounded were being neglected, but not by
choice.
Here also many were standing around the halls and in the rooms. Matt had to proceed
agonizingly

slow in order not to miss someone. Then there was always the chance she had already
been

evacuated and was safe. But they must make certain!

He walked into one of the seemingly endless number of rooms and glancing
around saw

no one he recognized. He started to leave, then stopped and strained his eyes, trying to
see into a

dark corner off to his left. The long slender fingers of a woman's hand protruded from
under the

blanket. A solid lump formed in his throat as he saw the long hair that had been partially
covered

by the blanket that had been pulled up over the head. It was blonde!

He walked over slowly, afraid of what he might find, afraid of seeing the horrible
wound

that had caused her to die. He knelt down beside the body and holding his breath he
slowly lifted

the blanket. The woman's head was turned away from him. Reaching down and placing
his hand

over and around her chin he turned her head toward him. As the dim light revealed her
features

Matt let the air escape from his lungs.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-417-

"Marguerite! Marguerite Dixon," he said aloud. "Marguerite, I'm so sorry. I


wonder if

Gary knows."
Lightheaded, he stumbled out of the room and into the hall to continue his search.

It seemed as though he had been searching for hours although he knew that not
more than

thirty or forty minutes had passed. His vision was beginning to blur and all of the faces
began to

appear alike. 'I've got to concentrate,' he thought, 'otherwise I may look right at Monique
and not

recognize her.'

As he was turning to enter another room he saw her! She was laying on the floor
along the

wall of the corridor. Her body was almost completely covered with one of the dark gray
native

blankets with only her head and shoulders visible. As he drew closer he saw that her eyes
were

closed and that the whiteness of her face and blonde hair accented the dark smudges,
scratches

and the large black and blue mark on her cheek.

'Oh, Christ,' he thought, 'please let her be alive.'

He knelt down beside her, touching her shoulder lightly. "Monique!.... Monique!
It's

Matt," he said softly.

Her eyes opened slowly and she gazed at him, unbelieving.

"Matt - is it really you?" she whispered almost inaudibly. With tremendous exertion
and

obvious pain she slid her hand out from under the blanket. He took it in his.

"Oh, Matt, I am so sorry." Tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes.

"Sorry! You! What for? I'm the one who's sorry, Monique. I've been such a bloody
fool!
How can you ever forgive me?"

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-418-

Taking her ice cold hand in his he bent down further and kissed it tenderly.

"Marcel told me everything. He told me how he killed Albert and why. If I hadn't
let my

lousy pride and monumental ego take over I would have realized how impossible all of
those

things were that I thought about you... I."

"Please, Matt," she whispered, "Marcel told..., he told you..., everything? He..."
her eyes

closed for an instant as she breathed laboriously. "He lied to you about..."

"Don't talk! I must get a doctor. You need help and by Christ I'm going to get it.
Marcel is

here. I'll find him."

He started to rise and she tightened her grip on his hand.

"No!... No!" she gasped shaking her head. "It is no use. They cannot help."

"Like hell they..."

"Please, please, Matt, do not waste what time there is left," she pleaded weakly.

He knelt down beside her again. "You're going to get well! You must get well!"

She looked up at him. "Look under the blanket at my left side."

"I..."

"Please look," she pleaded.

He reached down and slowly lifted the blanket, steeling himself for what she had
directed
him to see. He was ill prepared. Her whole left side was shattered and torn, the upper leg
blown

half away. The attempts to bandage and stop the bleeding had been futile. The wounds
were

massive. He fought desperately not to reveal the shock he felt. He lowered the blanket
and closing

his eyes tightly he swore through clenched teeth.

"Goddamn! Goddamn! Why is it the innocent must always suffer and pay the
price for the

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-419-

mistakes of the selfish, greedy bastards of this world?!"

"Matt. The lie. I must tell you..." She was whispering so softly that he had to lean
closer

to hear her. "It was... it was I who killed Albert - not Marcel." He started to speak and she
placed

her fingers on his lips. "Marcel was trying to protect me. After I shot Albert I was
desperate. I

sent for Marcel and he came down from the north. He... when he arrived two days later...
you

know the rest."

He leaned down and kissed her. Placing his cheek next to hers he said softly,
"How you've

suffered. First Marcel, then Albert, then me. We all loved you, you know, in different
ways, but

consideration for only ourselves did as much to hurt you as the weapons that have
shattered your

body."

As he brushed her cheek with his he noticed the change. He lifted his face from
hers and

looked at her serenely quiet face. Her eyes were closed. He straightened up and placed
her hand

beneath the blanket. She had closed her eyes when he had kissed her and would never
open them

again.

Just as Matt stood Marcel walked up to him. They looked at each other and then
Marcel

turned looking down at her.

"When you were gone so long I knew that you had found her." He knelt down
beside her.

"What the three of us did to her," Matt said. "What I did to her. I'll never be able
to

forget."

Marcel pulled the blanket up over her head and stood up. They both continued to
stare

down at the lifeless form for a few moments.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-420-

Marcel placed his hand on Matt's shoulder. "Let's get her out of here. I'll take care
of her

and you must leave for the south. I must also see to my command."

Matt leaned down and placing his arms under Monique picked her up. "I'll carry
her."

They weaved their way through the people sitting and laying in the corridor to the
stairs

that led down to the ground level. When they arrived outside Matt gently placed her in
the back
of the Landrover, refusing the offers of Marcel's soldiers to assist him. The sounds of
exploding

mortar shells and small arms fire was so close now that it was deafening. It was apparent
that the

enemy was just blocks from where they stood.

They raced back through streets that were almost completely deserted now to the

southern edge of the city and the intersection where Matt had met Marcel some hours
before. The

traffic heading south was down to a trickle and the noise of the shelling was now directly
to the

east. The encircling movement had begun.

Matt walked from his car to Marcel who was standing beside his vehicle.

"That weapons carrier over there," Marcel pointed, "will escort you to the border."

"How can I ever thank you, Marcel?"

"Our continued friendship is my thanks."

"What will you do now? The whole damned world is attacking Katanga. You must
know

the situation here is hopeless."

"Here - yes. For the time being - yes. But there will be other times, other places.
Where do

I go, Matt? Where do so many of us go? We consider this just as much our land, we
second and

third generations, as the blacks do. God knows I appreciate the blacks point of view as
well. But

I do not want to go anywhere else. I was born here and I will undoubtedly die here.
Today,

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-421-

tomorrow, sooner or later. Preferably later of course," he smiled.

"Where will you go?"

"Probably to northern Congo. I understand they are organizing some pretty good
fighting

units around Stanleyville and Bukavu. If I survive this one, and I will, that is where I will
go."

They looked at each other in a manner that left no doubt about the strength of their

friendship. They embraced.

"Be careful, my friend," Matt said.

"Au revoir, mon cher ami."

Matt walked to the rear of the Landrover and stood with his hand on the gray
blanket that

covered Monique. He stepped back as Marcel climbed into the vehicle and waved as it
pulled

away, barely able to see through the tears that were streaming down his face.

He went straight to the hotel in Ndola to check the listings and locations of the
refugees.

It was now well past midnight.

As he looked rapidly through the listing the anxiety and aching inside was to a
point that

he thought he would explode. Not there!! 'What will I do,' he thought, 'where will I begin
to look?

What will I do?' He looked at the top of the listings again and decided to read the names
more

slowly and deliberately. Maybe he had missed their names in his rush to locate them. He
began to

look at each name, concentrating more on each than he had the first time. His fear
increased with

each name he read.

Then he saw them! He had missed them the first time. There was Stephanie's
name with

the indication that she and the girls were at the gymnasium where he had found the
Malones

earlier. He had never felt such exhilaration.

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-422-

The gym was now full of people who had settled in for the night. Blankets were
spread

around the floor with suitcases and boxes beside them. He walked through one of the
entrances

and quickly looked over the sea of humanity that filled every bit of space. In the semi-
darkness he

stepped around the sleeping forms. Then he heard Stephanie's voice softly calling his
name.

Looking toward the sound of her voice he saw her waving frantically from the center of
the floor.

He made his way quickly to her and in his hurry stumbled over and wakened some of
those who

were asleep on the floor.

By the time he reached them Stephanie had wakened the girls. Kneeling down he
tried to

embrace all of them at once and they him. Stephanie was crying, trying desperately to
hold him

with the girls and Fritz blocking her way.

"Your face," she said touching his bruised cheek and swollen lips, "you've been
hurt!"
"Nothing more than I deserved," he said. "It was my own stupidity that caused it.
Honey,

how can you ever forgive me for getting you and the girls into this? I should never have
left you."

"We're all right now. But oh, Matt, many of our friends are hurt, missing or dead.
If it

hadn't been for Marcel and his soldiers we wouldn't be here now. It seems we've been
here forever

waiting and watching for you."

He kissed her again. "I was with Marcel in E'ville. I..., I went with him to search
for

Monique."

She looked at him intently - searchingly.

"She's dead."

"How..., how is Marcel taking it?"

He looked at her, suddenly realizing for the first time that she knew. 'How long
has she

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-423-

known,' he wondered.

He held her tightly. "He will be all right." He took her face in his hands. "He has
too much

to live for and she was a part of his past long before she died."

---------------

The gymnasium was quiet and Matt was laying awake next to Stephanie.

"Are you awake?" he whispered.

"Yes."
"First thing in the morning I'll get reconfirmation of our Sunday booking to
Lagos."

"Are you certain there are no troubles there?"

"As far as I know things haven't changed since we discussed this before. Nigeria
has been

independent since last October. They have their problems but it's reported to be one of the
most

stable and best governed of the newly independent nations in Africa."

She reached over and took his hand and placed it against her cheek. "As long as
we're

together. That's the most important thing."

He rolled over and kissed her. "You are incredible. I love you, Mrs. Miller."

Their arms wrapped tightly around each other they began to drift off into much
needed

sleep. Stephanie's last thoughts were of the words in the letter. She remembered them as
if she

had just received it that day:

Albert Fouquet 28 May, 1960


67 Av. de la Justice
Leopoldville, Belgian Congo

Dear Stephanie,
It pains me to write this letter, but I feel you must be
advised of a dangerous relationship that is developing

F. William Jung/KATANGA
-424-

between Monique Ivanov, Marcel's wife, and your husband,


Matt. This is not based solely upon rumor, but can be
easily verified as a result of what I have seen.........

Now reconciled to the death of Tom Simpson and with the words of Albert's letter
trailing
off in her mind, complete exhaustion took over and she slipped off into a fitful sleep that
had her

and the girls bouncing over dusty bush roads with screaming blacks on both sides tugging
and

pulling at her and her children.

-----------------

They had just cleared Nigerian Customs and were following a porter pushing a
cart loaded

with their luggage and a caged, tranquilized Fritz to waiting transportation outside. As
they

passed a newsstand Matt stopped and reached into his pocket for some newly acquired
Nigerian

currency.

"Stephanie, you go ahead with the girls. I just want to buy a newspaper." He
picked up

one published in Lagos. As he unfolded it bold red headlines leaped out at him:

NIGERIAN FEDERATION IN DANGER

EASTERN REGION AGAIN THREATENS TO SECEDE BY FORCE IF


NECESSARY

Azikiwe Declares There Is Complete Breakdown of Law And Order In Western


Region

-THE END_