George
Survivor, age 15 in 1977 · Botmeh, Chouf
Recorded 2024 · Written testimony
"That night my father called from Beirut. He told me I was authorized to use what he had taught me — to open the safe, take out the grenade and the old Russian gun, and protect the family. I was fifteen. The first home attacked in Botmeh was ours."
I was studying in Mazraat al-Shuf. On March 16, 1977 — a Wednesday — they started killing the Christians there very early, killing all the Christians who were in town that day, even before news broke of Kamal Jumblatt's assassination. I escaped by sheer luck, as the school bus left around 3pm.
Then I had to live through an endless night in Botmeh, followed by three days of continuous threat, as they began killing the Christians there too. My father was stuck on the road — he was in Beirut and couldn't make it back to the Chouf that evening. As the eldest son, I was left in charge of my mother, two brothers, one sister, and my grandparents.
By pure luck, I decided to hide in my grandparents' house — and that decision saved us, because the first home attacked in Botmeh was ours. I was 15 years old. I can still hear the echo of my father's voice on the phone that night: "Tonight, you're authorized to use what I've taught you recently to protect the family." That meant I could open the safe and take out the grenade and the old Russian gun my uncle had left behind before moving to Dubai.
I remember every minute of that night. I dreamed about it for years and I still feel that terror today. The image of the dead bodies laid out on biers hastily built from the wooden benches of our old church has never left my memory. I visit Botmeh each time I am in Lebanon — but I can never manage to sleep there a single night.