A sudden burst of crying over to my right jolted me out of the reverie. A young black woman and her two children, also black, were staring at the stooped, middle-aged white man standing before them in tattered UN surplus fatigues. Family reunion. The young woman's face was a mask of shock, it hadn't hit her properly yet, and the smaller child, probably no more than four, just didn't get it at all. She was looking right through the white man, mouth forming the repeated question Where's Daddy? Where's Daddy? The man's features were glistening in the rainy light from the roof — he looked like he'd been crying since they dragged him out of the tank.