There were frantic scenes of panic and despair in the United Nations headquarters in Dili last night when an order to evacuate was announced, thus abandoning some 2,000 East Timor refugees to the mercies of the Indonesian army and their murderous militia allies.
But, in an extraordinary development, the decision was reversed at the 11th hour when around 70 of the UN's 210 foreign staff staged what amounted to a revolt by saying they would stay behind to protect the refugees. Journalists in the compound also signed a petition demanding the evacuation be postponed.
Amid scenes of pandemonium inside the compound after the decision to retreat was announced, frantic Timorese attempted either to get a place on the UN planes or escape into the hills. One man with his sister and six children was forced to return to the compound after being shot at as he tried to flee.
And at 1.35 a.m. local time, amid the howls of panicked refugees and the desperate attempts of other families to flee into the night, the UN announced a 24-hour delay until tomorrow.
What will happen then, no one knows but the Timorese refugees who sought sanctuary with the UN fear they are yet to be abandoned. Yesterday, they thought, would be their last day safe from the militias.
As night fell, the refugees in the compound milled about, chattering and staring with grief-torn faces at the fleeing foreigners. We could not hold their gaze.
Shocked staff with UNAMET - the UN Mission in East Timor - had been told that the international workers as well as local staff and their dependants would be evacuated today at 7 a.m. local time.
In the final hours before that announcement, the fires got closer and the gunfire started again. Just before dark, there was a large explosion. It didn't hit anything but it didn't have to. The psychological effect on the damaged nerves of the past few days had already been done.
According to the few eyewitnesses who got out from the besieged UNAMET headquarters, Dili was being systematically destroyed, with dead bodies still smouldering in burnt-out houses.
Fires were lit around the UN compound throughout the day, getting ever nearer to the nervous refugees. The Australian embassy issued a warning to all its nationals to leave immediately on a flight to Darwin.
In the afternoon, the gunfire stopped. When you have lived with shooting for five days, silence becomes not a relief but a worry. It allows the mind to start ticking over, weighing up the almost inevitable attack that must come unless immediate international action is taken.
In the heat and eerie quiet, a 36-year-old East Timorese man stood behind the sign at the entrance to the compound and surrendered to his emotion. He wept quietly, saying he could not find his family.
"I have not seen them for three days. I do not know where they are . . If we are left here we will be butchered," he said. Thousands of East Timorese refugees bunkered down for the night, hungry and thirsty.
Family groups remained together, parents and guardians unsure of what to do. Children, too young to understand what was going on, remained cheerful, smiling and laughing at people as they passed. Large groups of Timorese gathered near the closed gates of the entrance, staring out, waiting for the attack.
The words of the poster publicising the United Nations vote read: "The UN will stay after the ballot." Yesterday, we were told it was not to be - the UN was leaving. Except some UN staff were not willing to abandon the Timorese.
Their fate has been postponed for 24 hours. We do not know yet if it has been cancelled.
Liam Phelan is an Irish freelance journalist based in Sydney, Australia.