A great orange glow lit the sky: Nato bombs Belgrade

March 1999: From a rooftop, Robert Fisk witnesses the bombing of Belgrade

Flames and smoke rise from an electric power plant in Belgrade's suburb Bezanijska Kosa in May 1999 after the plant was hit by a Nato missile (AFP/Getty)

The explosion was so massive the curtains of our opened window blew in for more than a minute, as if a hurricane had struck the hotel. From the roof late last night, it was all too obvious what had happened.

The noise of jets should have told us. A great orange glow suffused the hilltops beyond Belgrade, flickering and smouldering in the darkness, outlining streets and apartment blocks, even the pale ribbon of the Danube below us. It must have been a munitions dump.

Every few seconds – and we could see this from our vantage point on the roof – there would be another splutter of fire and a track of flame would soar into the sky, a missile presumably set off by the attack. “There are civilians who live around that hill, many of them,” said the restaurant chef, still in his immaculate white jacket, staring towards the hillside with its dark red penumbra.