It was that strong." (CBC News In-depth web site, p. 2). The other part of his painful memories involved nightmarish images of thousands of people, real people, dying violent and brutal deaths. Bodies filled the streets and rivers. In his book he described images of a village he had hoped was still intact, but found demolished and devastated with the dead lying everywhere. .

             Obviously, Dallaire was one of the causalities as surely as those who had died were. His anguish was so great that he had seriously tried to kill himself. His mental state was not unusual, however, among people who have survived horrendous circumstances of war. Twenty per cent of troops and humanitarian workers on missions suffer similar mental breakdowns, as well at 5 - 10% of diplomats. "High suicide rates, booze, drugs, pornography, finding themselves on skid row" (Dallaire, cited on p. 2). The pain of living with terrible memories is overwhelming. But now, instead of blaming himself, Dallaire now blames American leadership and the Pentagon for "projecting itself as a world policeman one day and a recluse the next" (p. 2). .

             Before the killing spree began, he had asked for permission to take pre-emptive action against those he suspected were plotting genocide, but UN Peacekeeping Operations in New York City told him to back off. Neither could he get help to stop the hate broadcasting the extremists were doing in Rwanda. Once the slaughter began, the United States (gun shy because of its humiliating experience in Somalia) even refused to acknowledge that genocide was taking place in order to avoid the legal obligation to help (CBC News In-depth web site). So writing the book helped Dallaire to see that the 936,000 deaths and the failure of his mission were really not his fault. When he released himself from so much personal responsibility, his depression lifted. Writing about it allowed him to achieve some distance from the experience, enough distance to make his life bearable again.