On 14 July 2016, Nice was hit by the deadliest attack in its history, claimed by the Islamic State group. A truck ploughed into the Promenade des Anglais, striking crowds of spectators who had gathered to watch the Bastille Day fireworks. The attacker killed 86 people and injured hundreds more. Ten years later, our teams returned to the scene of the tragedy to meet survivors and hear their stories.
For the past 10 years, Anne Murris has lived with the pain of losing her daughter Camille, who was killed at the age of 27 when she was struck by the truck on the Promenade des Anglais.
“She was a charming young woman, with a mischievous side. She loved making people laugh and laughed easily,” recalls her mother, tears filling her eyes.
On the evening of 14 July 2016, Anne Murris learned of the attack through a notification on her phone while travelling in Scandinavia with her husband, Camille’s father.
“It was total panic, because we knew Camille was there.”
An endless wait
The couple returned to France and spent four agonising days searching for their daughter. Anne Murris describes the wait as “torture”, saying she suffered “repeated episodes of tetany”.
When a judicial police officer finally confirmed their daughter’s death, the family was offered the chance to see her body. But all that remained were “just two hands behind a glass pane”.
Anne collapsed in grief.
“I know there was a great deal of sensitivity shown towards some families, but that wasn’t the case for us. It was extremely traumatic. Staff should have been better trained and supported by a psychologist when delivering such news.”
A mother’s fight
In 2018, Anne Murris founded the association Mémorial des Anges. Since then, she has devoted herself to supporting other victims’ families and preserving the memory of those who died.
She has launched numerous projects to transform her grief into action: a memorial museum in Nice, an exhibition at Villa Masséna marking the 10th anniversary of the attack, a street photography exhibition, talks in schools, and the placement of 86 pebbles – one for each person killed – in the Himalayas.
“My daughter’s death cannot make sense. How can anyone make sense of such a barbaric act? The only thing I can do is give meaning to my suffering by working to preserve her memory and promote prevention against radicalisation,” she says.
Anne says these actions also give her “the feeling that she is taking care of Camille”.
A quiet hero
Anne Murris testified during both the initial trial and the appeal proceedings, which resulted in two men linked to the attack receiving 18-year prison sentences for involvement in a terrorist conspiracy.
During the hearings, she met another survivor of the attack: Gilles Gamberi.
On the evening of 14 July, while attending the concert on the Promenade des Anglais, he heard “a tremendous crash and, above all, screams”. He saw the truck continue through the crowd before eventually coming to a stop.
At first, he believed it was an accident.
“I thought it was a traffic accident, or that the driver had fainted.”
When he approached the cab, the attacker pointed a gun at him. Gamberi tried, unsuccessfully, to disarm him.
“I heard two gunshots. I realised he was shooting at me.”
After jumping away from the truck, he encountered a police officer running towards him. Gamberi was able to provide crucial information about the attacker’s position inside the vehicle. The attacker was then shot dead by police.
For years, Gamberi chose not to speak publicly about his actions. He later came forward to correct what he described as inaccurate accounts.
“People were saying that I had tried to stop the truck, when in fact it had already come to a stop.”
A quarter of those killed were children
Soad Darwiche was 15 years old when she came to watch the Bastille Day fireworks with her grandmother, aunt, uncle and younger sister Emma.
“I didn’t really understand what was happening. I just followed the movement of the crowd,” she recalls.
She took refuge in a hotel by the sea, unaware of what had happened to her family.
The following day, she learned that the three adults who had been with her had died. Her 12-year-old sister Emma had been seriously injured.
“Today, she suffers from traumatic amnesia,” explains Dina Darwiche, the eldest of the three sisters, who was away on holiday in Brittany with their mother when the attack happened.
“Emma doesn’t want to hear anything about it. Even when she has dreams or flashbacks, she wakes up saying: ‘I don’t want to remember.’”
Dina rushed to Nice after hearing the news, alongside their devastated mother.
Ten years later, the sisters have rebuilt their lives. Dina has become a teacher and volunteer firefighter. Soad works in a restaurant and has bought her own apartment.
They have managed to create a new routine, balancing work, friendships and their passions for sport and drawing. But the pain remains.
“We think about our grandmother, our aunt and our uncle very often, even if we don’t talk about it much, because it is still very painful,” says Dina.
She remembers her grandmother as “strong and independent”, and her aunt and uncle – both maths teachers – as a couple who loved life and enjoyed going out to restaurants and cultural events.
Soad adds: “My uncle and aunt were as much in love as they were on their first day.”
The Darwiche sisters have been officially recognised as victims of the attack. Like them, nearly 3,000 people affected by the Nice attack have received support from the Guarantee Fund for Victims of Terrorism. Around a quarter of those affected were minors.
English (US) · 