Captain Viglino still runs the Annot rescue center today, in the Alpes-de-Haute-Provence. He was a very young officer in 1994, during the historic Var flood.
“My first Orsec plan”, blows this firefighter. A catastrophe which forever marked his memory and his professional practice.
“It had been raining for two or three days, he remembers. The soils were waterlogged. And that Saturday, November 5, the precipitation increased in intensity. It fell something like 270mm in the space of about twenty hours.”
“There was no cell phone like today”
What this professional feared ended up happening. In the middle of the night. La Beïte, one of the two rivers which crosses Annot, has “invaded the village.
The head of the center and his men go from house to house, from intervention to intervention. But it was only at daybreak that Michel Viglino really became aware of the scale of the disaster.
“We found ourselves without communications. At the time, there were no cell phones.” Less than “coordination” also, within the fire brigade which had not yet been departmentalized. “Everyone managed their own territory a little.”he admits.
Moreover, it would be necessary to wait until the next day for the first reinforcements to make their way to this town, on the borders of the Var valley.
Here as elsewhere, we came close to the worst. When the baker's house was partly washed away. Or when an impressive mudslide descended the mountain for nearly 300 meters, ending its course in the Annot station.
A little further up in the valley, at the confluence of the Coulomp and the Var, it was the Gueydan bridge which was swept away. “Just like the cement factory”, recalls Éliane-Rosie Viglietti.
Mayor of the small town of Castellet-lès-Sausses, at the time, it was escorted by the firefighters that she went in the days that followed to look for supplies for its inhabitants. “We were cut off from the world.”
“With our suitcases above the tumult of the river”
In the neighboring valley, Saint-Etienne-de-Tinée will remain isolated.for three days”reports the director of departmental archives.
However, this is the destination of Gilles and Ilse this Saturday, November 5, 1994. He, a young teacher, is stationed in Saint-Etienne. She is a native of Angers. They met during the summer.
That day, Gilles undertook to make “discover the Côte d’Azur” to his sweetheart. They cross France by TGV, cross the already swollen Rhône and arrive in Nice while the Var is in flood.
The car that Gilles left at his uncle's house refuses to start. “Too much humidity.” In any case, it would hardly be prudent to venture down the valley road in the middle of the night.
Departure the next day for Saint-Etienne-de-Tinée, via Levens and the Vésubie valley. From detour to detour, they arrive at Saint-Sauveur. “New signage announcing that the road is closed upstream of Isola.” It's late, it's dark… Anyway, we'll see.
Stop at the Isola bar to get some news. “I find DDE employees there who dampen my hopes”testifies Gilles. The road is well cut, but the agents offer to help the young couple cross… on foot!
“We trudge in the darkness with our suitcases above the tumult of the still swollen river. The end of the route will be in a DDE van.”
“Funny mishap which ultimately will not dissuade the mother of my children from staying after her arrival on a memorable flood day”, breathes Gilles.
Even his father-in-law does not seem to have held it against him. Because when they arrived safely after this long journey, the couple forgot to give any news.
The next day, when he woke up, he discovered this desperate message on the answering machine: “I am Ilse's father. No news for 2 days, thank you to the person who listens to this message for contacting me…”
“Have we drawn all the conclusions from these hazards?”
Images of the Alpes-Maritimes ravaged by water made the rounds on European news broadcasts. And yet, this November 5, 1994 was initially a day like any other.
No one thought of canceling the flower competition which took place in the greenhouse of Phoenix Park. “The mayor himself, Jean-Paul Baréty, and the cantonal councilor at the time, a certain Jacques Peyrat, were also present to present the prizes” to the candidates, remembers Michel Auda. His wife, Anne-Marie, was one of them.
Pierre and Christiane, the couple's neighbors, wanted to accompany them.in their brand new Laguna”. During the ceremony, no one really cared about the pouring rain pounding the roof of the greenhouse.
But at the exit of Phoenix Park, “a 5cm blade swept across Boulevard René-Cassin”remembers Michel Auda. As they try to get back to the car, the water keeps rising.
“From the ankles it reaches us mid-calf”“the manhole covers were lifting”“the four of us moved forward holding hands.”he describes. It's finally by bus, of which “traffic was not interrupted”that they returned to the hills.
As for “the Laguna with its predestined name, it has always gone “flop flock”, despite Renault’s refurbishments”. A lesser evil, because Michel Auda, as an entrepreneur, was requisitioned the next day to pump out the cubic meters of rain which had “invaded all levels of the Arénas car park”.
“There or a few weeks previously I had attended a meeting in the civil protection crisis unit on risks”quips this Nice resident. Who asks: “Have we drawn all the conclusions from these hazards? Institutions yes, but men?”
