MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR, Calif. -- “It’s time to cut down the tall trees,” were the words used by Hutu extremists to ignite the unprecedented genocide of their taller, fairer skinned countrymen, the Tutsi.

These words prompted machete-wielding Hutu’s to savagely murder hundreds of thousands of Tutsi men, women and children. The words also began the journey of a young Tutsi boy living in Africa, which led him to become a U.S. Marine.

“What I remember most about Rwanda was visiting my grandmother,” said Lance Cpl. Pierre Mugabo, who now serves as a plane captain with Marine Fighter Attack Squadron 232. “My grandmother lived at the base of the mountains, and everything was peaceful. That is what I remember the most about my childhood in Africa; the nature and how peaceful everything was.”

That peace wouldn’t last. The  long-building tension between the Hutu and Tutsi natives boiled over and caused the country to melt into turmoil and chaos. Murder became the norm and Mugabo’s family fled their home, fearing for their lives.

“My father was a captain in the military, so we were on a base when the murdering began,” said Mugabo, who was only about 5 when the genocide started. “I remember hearing the shooting and the screaming. We decided to flee two days after it started.”

Because Mugabo’s father was in Egypt supporting military operations, his mother was left alone to care for him and his sister. They boarded a bus with others fleeing the war, and began a harsh, two-week trek from Rwanda that kept them one step ahead of the rapidly expanding sphere of violence.

“A lot of my memories are muddled, probably because I was young, but I remember while we were leaving that I saw a dump truck usually used to move dirt filled with human bodies,” said Mugabo. “As a kid — seeing the arms and legs dangling over the side of the bed, it’s something I won’t forget.”

“When we were leaving Rwanda on that bus, I remember we came to a bridge that the Hutus were holding as a check point,” said Mugabo. “We had no brakes and because the driver couldn’t stop the bus, the men at the bridge began firing at us with heavy machine guns. I remember seeing the flashing lights and not understanding why everything was happening.”

While on the bridge, the militants separated the women and children from the men. Although the women and children were released, Mugabo never knew what became of the men.

After leaving the bridge and traveling from village to village, Mugabo’s mother was finally able to contact her husband, who was traveling from Egypt to retrieve his family; he agreed to meet them in Zaire.

“It is a very patriarchal society there and my father, as a man, had to be with us, but he was arrested in Zaire by Ugandan military members and died of malnourishment while he was in a prison camp,” said Mugabo.

After his father’s death, Mugabo and his two remaining family members left Zaire, now known as the Democratic Republic of the Congo. With nothing left tying the family to Africa, they fled to America as refugees, through a program operated by the YMCA. Although they escaped the violence in their country, the Mugabo’s difficulties were far from over. 

 “The YMCA put us in an apartment in Houston and we all faced extreme culture shock,” said Mugabo. “I remember that we dressed in the nicest clothes we had and went to greet the neighbors, which is the custom in Africa, and they waved us away like we were there to sell them something.”

The culture here was more distant, yet not all of Mugabo’s early experiences carried negative connotations. Because everything was new for him, Mugabo developed a voracious appetite for knowledge and excelled in school.

Mugabo’s mother, already a college graduate in Africa, had to obtain a GED before finding a job in America. Mugabo and his sister were placed directly into the public school system; neither could speak English, only Kinyarwanda.

“I was put into the fifth grade in a public school, and everyday I learned about things I never knew existed,” said Mugabo. “I began learning the history of Rwanda in America and it opened my eyes to what I had lived through.”

Mugabo and his sister began to learn and understand English by watching the Public Broadcast System, one of the two channels they received on their donated television.

“My favorite show for some reason was Little House on the Prairie,” said Mugabo. “I had never really watched TV in Africa. It was completely new for me.” 

Mugabo began to excel as he learned English and became an advanced placement student in high school. He decided to join the military during his senior year; a decision made for vastly different reasons than many of the men and women who enlist.

“In Africa, there is an idea that each man should be greater than his father,” said Mugabo. “My father was regarded as a good soldier and was a captain. I decided that I should join the Marines and obtain the same or a higher rank as my father. He was a great man — I want to emulate him.”

Yet living up to his father’s reputation and fulfilling his cultural ideals were not Mugabo’s only reasons for joining.

“I also wanted to let my mother pursue her own goals,” said Mugabo. “Ever since arriving in America she worked very long hours, and often through weekends, so that she could pay the bills and feed us. Had I gone to college she would have let me stay home and kept working to provide for me. I bettered myself, but I also gave her a chance to do things for herself instead of sacrificing for me.”

After spending a year in the Marine Corps’ Delayed Entry Program, Mugabo left for recruit training. He truly realized his goal after graduation, when he was able to provide for his mother.

“I flew my mom to my graduation because she didn’t have the money,” said Mugabo. “When I was able to take money from the ATM and pay for her hotel and her food, it was the best feeling in my life. I felt like I had become a man.”

Mugabo says he routinely helps his mother whenever he can, giving her money for bills and food while she attends college to become a nurse.

“My brother has always been someone I could count on,” said Gisele Mugabo, Pierre’s sister. “He doesn’t judge people, he is smart and can adapt to any environment. I was skeptical about him joining at first. Our dad died because he was in the military, but I have seen him change. I am proud of him.”

Now Mugabo is working on becoming a citizen so he can submit a Marine Enlisted Commissioning Education Program package to become a commissioned officer like his father.

Mugabo has transformed from a young boy who fled to America as a refugee from a war-torn country to a young man able to care for his mother. From chaos and new beginnings, he has become an American success story.