An escorted walk in the wood

An escorted walk in the wood on Monday afternoon


Today, thanks to a permission to walk around the Bois Lejuc for 24 hours, some friends could walk « freely » ( that is after an id check and escorted by the police) on the roman road  near the Bois Lejuc. The new prefectoral decree , which bans every circulation begins on Tuesday 27th at 6 am until the 5th of March.

We could observe near the forest and took pictures. We could seen the damage made by machines on the living places in the forest.  In the south, we couldn’t see anything left of the barricades. In the Souht-East, the site has been cleared  from all previous constructions. In the north, huts remain piled up around the roman road.

Picture: South entrance of the forest

Pisture: Military trucks driving in private fields on the edge of the forest.

Picture: Towars the north, marks on the ground and on certain trees were observed.

Picture: Empty meadow where used to be the South-Easth Barricade

Picture: Big rocks were brought in the north entrance of the forest.

Picture: That’s what is left from the North Barricade. Ruins of the cabins are piled on the side of the road.

D+4 after the attempt to evict the Bois Lejuc

We are the Monday 26th of February, 4 days after the attempt to evict the wood.


9.30am: A mechanical shovel and a big truck have been seen leaving the ANDRA lab in the direction of the wood.

In the morning: trucks bringing concrete wall wrecks have been seen in Mandres and trucks have hauled what seemed to be soil in the south of the forest.

2.30pm: 2 trucks and a mechanical shovel have been followed leaving the ANDRA lab driving towards the wood. A truck hauling rubble and another one with large rocks have been spotted.

On this morning, the 26th of February, mechanical shovel have been spotted in the forest; what are they doing? They are cutting trees down to supply the furnaces of the ANDRA and to summon demonic beasts from the Depths!

D+3 after the attempt to evict the Bois Lejuc

It is Sunday the 25th and some Owls are still in the trees, hold the line on!


2.30 pm: 23 owls surrounded by 4 trucks of the riot cops (included one military truck). They have been in the wood to supply the owls still perched since Thursday.

3 pm: 23 owls still around, for 45 min. The riot cops want to control their identity but the owls refused.

4.30 pm: 17 owls have been released at the edge of the wood, 11 others should be released on another trip. They have collectively refused the identity control.

4.40 pm: the 11 other owls have been released south of the forest.

We are here, we will be there !

Despite Muriel Nguyen, Meuse prefect, and Sébastien Lecornu, secretary of State, swaggering yesterday in the Lejuc Wood (Le Bois Lejuc) surrounded by the cameras of BFM TV, boasting that the eviction was coming to an end and that the woods were finally ready to receive the worst wastes of the nuclear sector. The owls of Bure took advantage of darkness to rebuild their nests at the top of the trees.


Yesterday, they told the tale of how they evicted the Lejuc Wood. Today we greet you from the canopy. #Bure #BoisLejuc

— Les ZIRAdiéEs (@ZIRAdies) 23 feb2018


They thought they would take us down with this blitz, by means of drone, helicopter and bulldozer… But we are still here. We will not hibernate. We will resist. Always and forever.


In Fall 2012, Operation César was trying to put an end to the Zad in Notre-Dame-Des-Landes. In one day, the police destroyed several living areas, thinking they would therefore stifle the protest. They actually were stepping on a fire. Indignation only grew stronger.


We are going to do everything in our power to make Bure their new Operation César. Crowd gatherings everywhere in France yesterday are witness of our determination.


We urge our friends and everyone who can relate to what is happening here to make their way to the Lejuc Wood.


Contact Press +337.

Testimony – A bittersweet paper for actual and future friends.

They have only power, we have everything else and we aren’t invulnerable. That’s probably the main difference between us and them. We are vulnerable because they shoot us in our heart, destroy our houses, where we loved, fought, walked, armed,  comforted each other…. For the second time, they come brutally inside the House. Equiped with laws, tonfas and sarcastic smiles, and above all with this inexcusable brutal « legitimity » : a calculated violence deployed, with a lot of bureaucratic language which blames the victim. « Be careful, you can hurt yourself », said a robocop as he was strangling a friend.

In the House, they separated us violently one by one, with truncheon hits, slaps, armlocks and strangulations. When my turn came, they used all of their violence to bring me out. I resisted all the way, it was very difficult for them to bring me out. Four or six cops used brutality to take me. I didn’t resist by courage. I felt the pain , a pain felt like a real part of me, a pain that must exist at this time. I had the sensation that this pain would be a definite part of us, anyway. I felt deeply in my stomach something which can embrace the pain, the sadness and the anger all together. I felt some kind of tension run through all my body, from the past to the future, a tensed string impossible to break. It was not courage. It was not an « effort of will ». It was the feeling that in front of the inevitable brutality of the police, I found strenght in feeling that I could resist against That, fight it every way possible, and carry on loving, building, and destroying if I had to.

But if we are never-say-die, we are vulnerable. We have been hurt. We lost ourselves. We’re not really together. All the gatherings and support from France and everywhere are comforting. Bure is everywhere the nuclear and military society will colonise. But I need, in the litle village of Bure and around, to feel that my strained string isn’t screaming alone in the desert. I need to feel other strings, friendship, sympathy with our failures, leniency to our trials and errors, strength when I go down, a gentle touch when my mind breaks. And I’m ready to give and reciprocate every single one of them. If I must fight, it will be never alone with my conscience, my ideas or my « convictions ». If they are not a strong  connection to the other, if I don’t feel a link between our weaknesses and strengths, sharing my « yes » and « no » , I am only a weathercock.  A weathercock easily destroyed by a squall. Like a friend said : «  My determination is very strong but hanging on a thread. »

I’m waiting for you.

A catapult.