The Tragedy of Nice #Nice06

Warning - this blog contains upsetting images of the scenes in Nice.

They came out in their hundreds; locals, holiday makers, families with children and more. They came to enjoy the Bastille Day celebrations in Nice, as thousands of others were doing all over France on 14^th July 2016. A day, which in 1789 saw the beginning of the French revolution, but which on this occasion marked a day of unimaginable violence, death and grief.

As the crowds made their way along the Promenade Des Anglais having enjoyed the fireworks and conviviality of an evening shared with friends and family, they could not have begun to imagine the tragedy, which was unfolding behind them.

Following the crowds in a 19 ton lorry was 31 year old Tunisian born Mohamed Lahouaiej-Bouhlel. Bouhlel was on a mission of evil intent, which would end with the horrific deaths of at least 84 people.

Using the lorry as a weapon, and in an act of incomprehensible cowardice and cruelty, Bouhlel deliberately drove into the crowds, leaving a swathe of destruction and death in his wake. He drove for 2 kilometres before being shot and killed by French police. 

As well as those murdered, hundreds were injured, many of them seriously.

10 of those murdered were children; the image of the covered body of a murdered child lying next to her discarded doll brought this unspeakable and sickening attack into sharp focus. 

I understand war. There have always been wars. Soldiers choose to go and fight in wars and I salute their courage and bravery. But this. To mow down innocent children with their families? There are no words to adequately express my feelings. 

In those minutes, lives were wiped out, and other lives forever changed. For the families of those murdered, life will not, and cannot be the same again. 

Never.

I was up at 5.30 this morning as I usually am. Our rescue dog Merlin was politely reminding me that it was high time I took him for his first walk of the day. A beautiful day in promise, with the sun just beginning to rise. 

However, a message from a friend via social media stopped me in my tracks. Living in Australia and hours ahead of us here in France, she was already aware of the horrors, which had unfolded in Nice the night before. 

I read the news report in what felt like slow motion and I wept.

I wept for the families, the children, the dead, the dying, and the injured. I wept for the mother’s the father’s the grandparents, and the unmitigated abomination of the violence this one man had wrought. I wept for France, experiencing her third terrorist attack in 18 months and I wept for the futility of it all, the utter waste of human life and for what?

I am a mother, a grandmother and a wife. I know the value of family, of a loving husband and of life, which is good. As well as family, I have wonderful friends, close friends who I love as I love my family. I began to think how I would feel if it were one of MY children, or one of MY friends who had been a victim of that wicked attack and I wept some more.

I am also a writer, and writers write.

This is a personal and emotive blog, it is how I feel today, it is an outpouring of grief, rage, sadness, sorrow and much more.

Steve and I live in Brittany, far away from the tragedy in Nice. However, in our little village today, there is an eerie silence. The lively local café, usually so busy on a Friday morning, is closed. The Mairie’s office is closed. No one is out in their garden, despite the sunny weather, and as my friend and fellow author Jennie Bonhet put it so succinctly, “sorrow hangs in the air”.

Sorrow also hangs over us. Like millions of others the world over, Steve and I have been deeply affected by this latest terrorist attack. We did not know any of the victims in Nice, but we FEEL. We feel the pain, we feel the anguish of those personally affected. We really do share in the suffering, albeit from a distance and in a very small way, compared to those at ground zero.

Some people might turn to their God at a time like this and find some comfort there. Others will ask, “Where WAS your God when this happened?” Whatever your personal beliefs, the human spirit is strong, France is strong and will respond to this latest attack in her midst with all possible means.

There will be three days of mourning in France; it is not enough. The repercussions of this night of terror will last for an eternity, especially for those caught up in it.

Our thoughts are with the families, their friends and loved ones. We are heartbroken for you, we weep with you, we embrace you from afar and though you do not know us, we stand with you in your grief and we say, we are sorry. Sorry that this man, whatever his warped motives were, took your loved ones from you in such an horrific way We’re sorry that you are having to live through this, when all you wanted was a peaceful evening out with your families. We are sorry that your lives are forever changed; that the plans you made for the future have been destroyed at the hands of a murderous fanatic.

Most of all, we are sorry we cannot turn back the clock and change it, prevent it happening and make it all right again.

May you find the strength and the courage to go on.

Freya