“September 9th 1990 was a rather cool and cloudy day. The street from the city center heading towards Duola on Bushrod Island was thronged with hungry and displaced people looking for things to buy, sell and eat. The streets were dirty, broken glass bottles, empty cans and trash littered the streets across the bridge. Empty bullet casings made ringing noises as the car ploughed over them.
“As I drove Elizabeth Blunt from the Cape side of Monrovia known as Mamba Point, down across the Via town bridge towards the Freeport of Monrovia on Bushrod Island, she commented on the shot out buildings and cars, comments she always made whenever we passed through this area. Our first stop for the day was the Sierra Leone and Guinean refugee camp where an outbreak of cholera had been reported. We drove through the gates and the smell of the stench and filth overpowered us. We then decided to drive into the port area to see the ECOMOG Press Officer, Major Chris Otulani. We were flagged on through the gates by the troops standing guard at the port entrance. Elizabeth exchanged pleasantries as they all admired her and were eager to talk to her. We circumnavigated the serpentine alleys of the looted empty warehouses and containers. Garbage was everywhere, the trash littered the port and the stench of stagnant water permeated the air. When we finally reached the dock office, I decided to park directly opposite the entrance. Elizabeth then walked and presented her appointment card to the officer at the door and waited. I then proceeded to make small talk with one or two of the ECOMOG guards whom I had befriended on the several occasions I had visited the port. After a while I returned to the car.
I was feeling a bit tired and sat in the car waiting for Elizabeth to return. My watch registered two minutes after one in the afternoon; I looked through the rearview mirror and saw rolling in the SSS cars that usually accompany the President. The SSS guards hanged on the doors of the lead cars and shouted orders to one another. I wondered what was happening -- who was visiting the port. I saw the silver Mercedes with the presidential flag glide in from behind the warehouses on to the pier followed by another three or four cars of the security service. The Presidential Motorcade stopped and the President of Liberia, General Samuel Doe, still waving his golden scepter stood up through the roof of the Mercedes Benz. The President, in contrast to the lean and hungry citizens he had passed by on Bushrod Island, looked plump, bright and sharp and attired in battle camouflage and jungle boots. He stepped out of the car as guards stood alert. He walked across the car park and entered the dock office. He was then taken up to the office of the Force Commander, General Arnold Quinoo.
“The ECOMOG guards downstairs then began to take pictures of the car; they were awe-struck by its sleekness and beauty. I sat in the PRESS car and looked at the various faces of the loyal forces that came with the President. They took up defensive positions around the limousine, shouting orders and visibly confused and frightened. After all, they were in enemy territory. I later learned they had very short notice to come to the Freeport. In the absence of advanced notice, they lacked the benefit of intelligence report.
“Five minutes after the arrival of the President, the Chief of Staff of the Independent National Patriotic Front (INPFL), Prince Johnson’s rebel group, drove in with a squad of heavily armed rebels. The Chief of Staff walked briskly into the entrance area where some conversation went on and then he returned to his soldiers. Approximately, four to five minutes later, the self-styled Field Marshal, Prince Johnson, of the INPFL, arrived amidst a screech of tires and armed persons falling from his red sporting Cherokee jeep. Johnson leaped out of the car he was driving and hurried toward the entrance of the Dock Office. Fighters, who had accompanied him, rushed about using expletive phrases as they took up strategic positions at the port. It was clear that trouble was in the wind. While hastening towards the entrance of the Dock Office,
something happened between Prince Johnson and one of Doe’s security guards. He turned around fiercely and asked, “What did you say?” At this point I decided to abandon the coziness of the PRESS car for some safer area from where I could view the events I was sure was safe.
“I took refuge among some Peacekeeping soldiers behind an ECOMOG armored tank and watched frighteningly. The SSS Guard had angered Prince Johnson and he, in turn, had brandished an AK-47 ready to shoot. Col. Varney, his Chief of Staff, came in and pleaded for calm but not after the SSS Guard had been ordered to disarm and manhandled. Meanwhile, all around the car port soldiers and rebels were abusing and taunting each other. The atmosphere was tense and electrically charged.
After this brief preview of what to expect, the Field Marshall gravitated angrily towards the dock office entrance sporting his green face cap. Prince Johnson entered the building and disappeared from view. At this time I decided to move again to safer grounds in a warehouse office. I sat on the desk, but could still view the scene. I noticed then in disbelief that some of the SSS officers were taking off their uniforms and surrendering their guns to ECOMOG soldiers. Then I heard sporadic gunfire followed by the barking of the command, “Open Fire!” by Prince Johnson. At that moment I saw about 15 soldiers killed, shot in the back of the head. There was pandemonium as soldiers ran in all direction. A female soldier who I had earlier recognized was now buck naked in only her panties, she was rushing on board the ship for refuge. Because I was afraid to be caught in the crossfire, I rolled under the door of the warehouse and jumped into an ECOMOG truck. Still feeling unsafe, I spotted some Peacekeeping soldiers standing in another warehouse and I made for it. I reached there and they offered me safe place in a kitchen where I found some of the SSS persons hiding. I still did not feel safe as all around us bullets were flying, soldiers were barking orders and grenades were exploding. I thought, at one point that the Port would have sunken under the sea. I looked around wondering if rebels would come to hunt for deserting soldiers, I took another leap and buried myself in a stack of rice, flour and yam. There I remained until the shooting died down.
”I heard the roar of engines. It appeared someone was leaving. From where I lay buried I could hear the Mercedes passing driven by a rebel. All of a sudden everything was quiet. I gave my ID card to an ECOMOG soldier and asked him to find Miss Blunt for me. He found her on the ship and came back for me. She was very glad when she saw me, so was I, because I thought she was dead. On the ship I saw a lot of deserted soldiers and others who had escaped death. We sat down for a while and then Elizabeth was called for a short talk with the Force Commander. The most horrible scene was that of the dead bodies lying about -- more than 83 persons had been gunned down in the shoot out. Bodies were strewn everywhere. Among them was the body of a lady whom I had talked with on a previous visit to the port. She was Major Melish. It was sickening. The ECOMOG soldiers were visibly shaken. Elizabeth and I were granted escorts and we finally left the port. Before leaving I went to bid farewell to one of the men, a Sierra Leonean ECOMOG soldier. He had tears in his eyes: “These, your people,” he cried, “are dangerous. I have my wife and children in Freetown and when I leave from here, I am never going to come back to Liberia again.” Another one told me, “Do you mean I have come here to die for this Doe bastard?”
Stanford, in his narration, never said what happened to Doe. While he was hiding, Prince Johnson had found Doe hiding underneath a table in the office of the Force Commander. Johnson shot Doe in the legs, picked him up and threw him in the trunk of the car and drove off with him to his Caldwell base.
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