Liberia: The white UN helicopter swooped from the gun-metal sky and lurched onto the cracked runway of Monrovia airport. Declan Walsh reports from Monrovia.
Nigerian special forces in battle-armour leapt out into the driving rain, guns poised for action. But they were confronted only with an ecstatic throng.
Jigging, jogging and bellowing gospel songs, hundreds of Liberians flooded onto the Tarmac chanting the now-familiar refrain: "No more war! We want peace".
A bemused Nigerian colonel was hoisted onto shoulders and paraded like a hero.
After weeks of delay, West Africa's rescue mission finally landed in Liberia yesterday. A forward force of about 200 troops deployed yesterday while another 3,000 - including soldiers from Ghana, Senegal and Mali - are expected in the coming weeks.
"Today is a miracle day," shouted Georgia Anderson over of a chorus of singing women. "My brothers have come to bring peace to this country. I am rejoicing." The Nigerian-led force has a perilous mission: to halt the guns that have pounded Monrovia for two months, leaving over 1,000 dead.
The peacekeepers fanned out across the airport, securing the perimeter. But the real action is 40 miles west in the city, where gunfire still rattles and besieged president Charles Taylor is plotting his next move.
The African force has been termed a "stabilisation force". The commander of the first platoon to land, Capt Aliyu Jibril, said his troops had peacekeeping orders. But if civilians were being attacked, he said, "we will retaliate".
American help may bolster the African force. A fleet of three US warships lingered off the Liberian coast yesterday with over 2,000 troops on board.
But President George Bush is hesitating over whether to deploy them on-shore, apparently waiting to see how the African mission fares. His ships were still not visible from battle-scarred Monrovia yesterday.
Asked if American troops would deploy onshore, US Ambassador John Blaney said, "We will have to see." The warring sides welcomed the deployment. The LURD rebels, who hold the city port, promised to withdraw from Monrovia to allow the African force in.
On the government side, military chief Gen Benjamin Yeaten said: "We are very happy for them to be here, so that this war can come to an end." At a roadside grave just miles away, however, there was a macabre reminder of the carnage inflicted by their rag-tag armies.
The smell of rotting flesh choked the air as Red Cross workers hastily emptied the contents of Monrovia's hospital morgue into a sandy mass grave.
Some 66 bloodied corpses, many with their bandages still attached, were unceremoniously tipped into the pit, inert limbs flailing as they fell. A government general and several infants were among the dead.
Black plastic bags containing loose limbs were flung in as workers hastily shovelled sand on top. One young woman fainted after recognising her brother in the pile.
On the road to Monrovia, Liberians milled about looking eagerly for any sign of troops.
"I want to see them with my own eyes," said Bangalu Wonwondor, a former farmer living as a refugee since 1999. "And when I do, even though I have no food, my belly will be big, and I will be happy." Fighting lulled in the city for the second day running. There was just sporadic gunfire across the hotly-contested bridge, while plumes of black smoke spiralled from a warehouse hit during a weekend shelling blitz.
The most enigmatic question remained the political future of President Taylor. He is wanted by war crimes prosecutors in neighbouring Sierra Leone, and is blamed for much of the chaos of the past 14 years.
At the weekend Mr Taylor promised to resign by next Monday; yesterday his aides said he was preparing for exile in Nigeria. But many fear that the wily survivor is just stalling for time.
As his troops occupied the airport, Nigeria's Foreign Minister Oluyemi Adeniji went to Monrovia to meet with the embattled president. Afterwards he refused to comment on his message, saying only: "The president was very happy".
Meanwhile there were further signs of a breakdown in discipline among Mr Taylor's forces. A blooded soldier stumbled along the Monrovia seafront, apparently knifed by comrades who pushed him along.
Many illiterate government fighters say they yearn only to return to school. Watching the Nigerians deploy, Anti-Terrorist Unit soldier Forkpa Kulli said "If \ leaves we have to learn so we can forget about this," pointing to the AK-47 on his shoulder.
But ordinary Liberians fear a looting spree when Mr Taylor departs office. "We don't trust them," said one resident, who requested anonymity.
Liberians are also wary of the Nigerian peacekeepers. The last mission in the 1990 saw officers sell weapons and soldiers loot houses. "It was very deadly," said businessman Alex Kennedy as he watched the Nigerians jump from a helicopter. "If we have a repeat of that we will be back to where we started."