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The following episode contains graphic descriptions of war and strong language.

Welcome to the Guardian Long Read, showcasing the best long-form journalism covering culture,

politics and new thinking. For the text version of this and all our long-weeds, go to the Guardian.com for a slash long-weed.

I reached Adam, the temporary capital of Yemen, in the second week of March 2015.

Missiles shook the city from all sides.

Hothi militias bombed the presidential palace, where President Heide was holed up.

Army tanks trundle down the main streets.

On the 23rd of March, the decision to go to war was made.

Diplomats and interlasher employees left Sanaa, Yemen's largest city,

while foreign embassies closed their doors and evacuated their personnel.

Leaders of political parties departed the country with their families.

I said farewell to some of them in good faith.

I didn't think that having sensor war was coming, they had decided to flee and leave us to our fate.

The military coalition was organized by Saudi Arabia in support of Heide and against the Hothi uprising began a strike.

The coalition also included the UAE, Bahrain, Kuwait, Jordan, Pakistan, Egypt, Senegal, Sudan, Qadar and Morocco.

At 2am on Thursday 26 March, Arab coalition fighter planes suddenly cut through the Sanaa sky and war became a reality.

What's engraved in my mind from that morning isn't the roar of the explosions or the horrifying thunder of planes piercing the sound barrier,

or my anxiety over the trajectory of missiles hitting targets further than I could see.

All the sounds of war that had grown accustomed to.

Rather, it's a shock of how war was conjured, how life collapsed in one fell swoop,

civil infighting, the humiliation of hunger, the indignity of it all, our generation's lost dreams.

...