And then the cry went up: 'Where are the French?'

James Astill reports from the bullet-riddled town of Bunia in the Congo




Yesterday's death toll was impossible to estimate. Even as the fighting cooled in the afternoon, only five civilians and a handful of fighters were reported killed. With few of the losing side's kinspeople - the Lendu tribe - remaining in Bunia yesterday, a celebratory massacre by the victorious Hema fighters looked unlikely.

Charged with explaining the UN's latest failure to quell the bitter war in Congo's Ituri province, French commander Col Daniel Vollot said: 'Our mandate has not changed. We are trying to impede the fighting through negotiations. We went between the lines, we spoke to the soldiers, to the leaders, but no one wants to talk, they want to fight.'

The battles began shortly after dawn. A rabble of Lendu attacked the main Hema militia, the Union of Congolese Patriots (UPC), which had driven them from Bunia last month. This battle was different: a rival Hema militia was reported to be fighting alongside the Lendus, turning the usual portrayal of Ituri's war as age-old and ethnic on its head. In fact, following in the wake of Congo's complicated regional war, and fuelled by the efforts of Uganda and Rwanda to control north-eastern Congo, it's a desperate struggle for power.

As over 1,000 Lendu fighters swept into the south-eastern suburb of Kinja, the UPC's fighters panicked and ran. Bullets zipped through Kinja's empty streets as one UPC commander berated his men: 'Turn and fight, you women! Kill the Lendus, kill them.'

The Hema fighters were unconvinced. 'There are dead, there are wounded, the enemy is too numerous, the fighting is too hot,' one cried.

Briefly the fleeing militiamen threatened to run through the UN compound, spurring the Uruguayans to advance and level their guns. But the peacekeepers allowed fleeing civilians to pour through their ranks and huddle against the compound's razor-wire perimeter.

'We're fleeing because the Lendus are close,' said Maeve Wivine, 32. 'We don't know who's shooting.'

As the Lendus advanced on the compound, the UPC counter-attacked, firing over the cowering fugitives, journalists and peacekeepers in thunderous hour-long bursts studded by inexplicable moments of calm. 'Where are the French?' asked one blue-helmeted Uruguayan.

After a five-hour battle, costing a huge stockpile of bullets but seemingly few lives, the Lendus withdrew, with the UPC chasing. Soon after, they returned, drenched with sweat, and supporting a few blood-soaked bandages.

Bunia's makeshift clinic, a coffee warehouse beside the UN compound, told a similar tale. Where last month's massacres have left it crammed with mutilated civilians and dying fighters, only a handful of wounded arrived yesterday. 'Look at my jacket,' wailed Floren Katzova, 63, showing a rip where a bullet had passed before gouging into his stomach. 'It's the only one I have.'

The French-led intervention force represents the first serious effort to end Congo's war, which has claimed around 4.7 million lives - the highest death toll in any conflict since World War II. Over the coming weeks, 1,400 European soldiers are expected in Bunia from Sweden, Norway, Germany, Britain and France.

The force has been given a stiffer mandate than the existing 4,000 peacekeepers. Yet its mission is limited to the town of Bunia, and scheduled to last only three months.