Funchal. Coimbra. Angola - por entre lugares da memória

Coimbra fervia de estudantes. Os alunos assistiam às aulas e nos tempos livres juntavam-se para falar e discutir (às escondidas) sobre o Regime.

Rui frequentava o terceiro ano de Direito. A ilha e a família tinham ficado para trás. A namorada também estudava em Coimbra e uma vida nova tomava cor.

A meio do ano, foi mobilizado para cumprir o serviço militar. Hesitou. Podia pedir um adiamento, afinal tinha bom aproveitamento. Ou podia emigrar: França, talvez.  Mas não. O seu lugar era ali. Junto com os outros. Os seus colegas. Os da sua geração. Os do seu país.

Após o curso de miliciano em Mafra, fica colocado no Funchal. Volta à terra. Satisfeito por estar de novo mais perto dos seus.

Estamos no ano de 1961 e o Alferes é chamado para Angola. E vai! Tinha de ir!

A guerra foi dura. Esteve 31 vez debaixo de fogo intenso. A morte, a dor, o sofrimento colavam-se à pele tal como a lama e o breu da noite. Os turras conheciam melhor o terreno e faziam o jogo do “bate e foge”;

- nós estávamos mais bem apetrechados. Tínhamos melhor armamento mas a partir do momento que começaram a usar minas ( 1963),  a coisa piorou muito!

Em Luanda, encontra Manuel Alegre. Vão almoçar juntos. E a vida toma novamente outra cor. A cor da militância partidária. A cor de uma luta! A cor de uma liberdade que paulatinamente ganhava mais adeptos por entre os soldados que, no Ultramar, sentiam fazer parte de uma guerra que não era deles… que não lhes pertencia… que lhes roubava anos de vida, que lhes roubava irmãos, primos, amigos e sobretudo que lhes roubava a esperança … a hipótese de ter uma vida como toda a gente.

Rui  Nepomuceno falou-nos da Guerra do Ultramar. Esteve lá, sim. Mas já lá não está. [agora , cada vez menos penso nisso] . Guarda na sua memória as conversas, os ânimos da juventude, o companheirismo e os planos e os sonhos de um futuro melhor.

E guarda um sorriso … e um olhar terno mas vibrante ainda cheio de tantas vontades e de tantas lembranças. [ que prometeu partilhar connosco]

 

 

 

Funchal. Coimbra. Angola - in between places of memory

Coimbra was crowded with students. Young boys and girls attended classes and after school got together (undercovered) and talked about the Regime.

Rui was already at the third year of Law. Madeira Island and the family had been left behind. His girlfriend was also at Coimbra and there life had gained a new tone.

 

In the middle of the term he was called to do military service. He thought carefully about it. He could have asked for an adjournment because he had good grades. He could also go away: France, perhaps. But he decided not to. His place was right there. He had to be with his mates. He had to join his generation. And he had to help his country.

After the military course at Mafra, he came back to Funchal. He was so glad. He was back home.

Then, in 1961 he was forced to go to Angola. There was no other way! Portugal was at war and needed their young men.

War was thought! He was 31 times under severe fire. Death, pain, suffering clustered to skin the same way mud and night darkness. The enemy knew the place much better and used to attack and hide in the jungle;

-          But we were better armed. We had better guns but when they started using mines (1963), things got so much worse!

In Luanda he met Manuel Alegre. They had lunch together. Life was again tainted by other colours. The colour of the Communist Party. The colour of political struggle! And the colour of freedom which gradually gained supports among the soldiers who realized they were fighting a war that did not belong to them … a war that robbed their youth,  that killed their brothers, cousins, friends and above all a war that cut off the hope of having a normal life, just like everybody.

Rui Nepomuceno talked with us about war at Overseas Portugal. He was there. He is not there any longer [he hardly thinks about it now]. He remembers the conversations, the cheering and friendship of the boys and the planning and dreaming of a brighter future.

And he has kept a warm smile… and tender but blazing eyes so full of willing and nice remembrances [he has promised to share with us].