"My name is Jeff Magel, and the place... Well lets just say it was 1958. In the car with me were my wife, Margaret, and my friend Michael Murray from the British Embassy, and we were heading to the airstrip from a city besieged by a rebel army, barricades and shattered ruins. The grim placards of a country torn and bleeding from war. Muzzled guns echoing in the distance, an orchestration of violence. It was a jagged concerto that I remember only too well..."