The Foreign Service Journal, November 2022

THE FOREIGN SERVICE JOURNAL | NOVEMBER 2022 89 Your entire family is in grave danger!” John added his appeals, relaying sto- ries that came back to Monrovia from the killing fields. We stressed that there was little time to consider options. We had no access or contact with those behind rebel lines; and within days that would include his family. He was unmoved. I could see that the thought of returning to the U.S. had little appeal to him. b John and I returned to Monrovia in silence. Our mission was a failure, and we felt defeated. But there was no time to worry about Kevin’s fate. Liberians’ pleas quickly changed from “stop the war” to “help us escape.” All embassies except the U.S. embassy had left; the Brits dropped off the keys to their adjoining compound on Mamba Point on their way out. The remaining Americans were usu- ally of mixed origin, their stories murky. Kids who were born in America but never lived there suddenly acquired huge families who all demanded evacuation. Lebanese traders reluctant to leave their life’s work, stranded Europeans, mis- sionaries who stayed to minister to Gios hiding in Monrovia, all descended on the U.S. embassy. Several embassy colleagues broke down in tears as the stress of living in a sea of desperation overcame them. Local employees and contacts went missing, and the embassy housing compound was overrun by Liberians seeking some mea- sure of safety. About two dozen Liberians lived in my carport, eking out nutrition from the garden my wife had started. My Gio housekeeper and her children lived in a spare bedroom, and my Guinean tailor, who turned out to be a valuable scout, lived on my back porch with his mother. They would soon flee the city. There was no water or electricity in Monrovia. At night, I would sometimes lay on the roof, and watch the tracer bullets overhead. Trucks would snake out of the grounds of the executive mansion, which provided the only lights in a blacked-out city. The president hid behind his loyal Krahn guards who would prowl through the streets and arrest “rebel sympathizers,” who were never seen again. One night, embassy personnel listened in on our radio network as a priest at the Don Bosco Catholic Training Institute described a visit by soldiers to their com- pound. The priests were sheltering dozens of terrified Gio people and refused entry to the troops. The furious soldiers said they would return with more weapons and men and kill all the occupants of the compound. It had happened at a church a few nights earlier, a grisly mass killing of more than 200 Gio people that finally made the news in the U.S. We listened in tears as the priests gave instructions for contacting their loved ones. But the troops did not return. b AMarine Armed Readiness Group (MARG) had taken up position just over the horizon, and it became our only escape option. When Prince Johnson, one of several warlords, occupied Mamba Point, alarm bells went off. Johnson’s troops now surrounded the embassy. He had made no hostile moves, but clearly intended to use his position. When he threatened to take American hostages, the MARG swung into action. We cut down the basketball goals to make a landing pad for the helicopters, and I was evacuated along with hundreds of foreigners the very next day. A small contingent, including our outstanding Chargé D’Affaires Dennis Jett, remained as the only official foreign presence in the country. It took a while to get over the trauma of the Liberian Civil War. I would sometimes go on a crying jag for no apparent reason, and I suspect I suffered fromPTSD. I was overjoyed to be reunited withmy fam- ily, yet strangely alienated by normality. I wanted to put the conflict behindme, but I felt drawn to it like a suffering child. I nowworked a nice, calm job in the State Department’s oceans and environment bureau, andmourned for a destroyed country, andmy own destroyed idealism about Africa. After a year, I was recruited to be the new desk officer for Liberia, a pro- motion I accepted with some reluctance. Things hadn’t really changed much. Johnson had killed President Doe, but fighting continued and had recently spread to Sierra Leone. The State Depart- ment was promoting a peace process, but many grim years lay ahead. The insertion of an African peacekeeping force had pre- vented Taylor from taking Monrovia, but he would eventually be elected president before being tried and imprisoned by the International Criminal Court for war crimes. I got lots of calls from the public, often accusing the U.S. of abandoning Liberia. So I was surprised to get one fromCali- fornia, which began, “I want to thank you for saving my life.” It was Kevin, who had fled his village with his family of five the day after our visit. His wife had convinced him to leave, he said, arguing that those American men would never venture so far into the bush unless the danger was real. He had resettled in Los Angeles, where he was doing well but having trouble adjust- ing. He asked for John Desrocher’s contact info so he could thank him, as well. Much of the U.S. embassy’s work overseas is unknown and unappreciated. We often don’t get to see the results of our efforts, or even know whether they mat- tered. It was a high point of my career to learn that sometimes they do. n