The charred skeleton of a mid-rise apartment block in Antwerp’s historic district stands as a grim monument to last night’s tragedy. At least seven are dead, with dozens injured, as a fire that began in a third-floor flat tore through the building before dawn. This morning, the air still tastes of smoke, and a huddle of neighbours wrapped in foil blankets watches rescue workers pick through the debris.
Among them are a team of British search-and-rescue specialists, flown in from the UK under the European Union’s Civil Protection Mechanism. Their presence is a quiet testament to the new post-Brexit reality: solidarity takes many forms, even after a divorce. For the families of the missing, the waiting is a special kind of torment.
At the end of the street, a temporary support centre run by the Red Cross has become a limbo of anxious glances and whispered phone calls. “We don’t know if my brother is inside or safe at his girlfriend’s,” says a woman clutching a damp tissue. The fire’s cause remains under investigation, but early reports suggest it may have started from an electrical fault.
For Antwerp, a city that prides itself on its medieval resilience, this is a raw wound. The British rescue teams, with their specialist sniffer dogs and structural engineers, represent a shift in how we respond to tragedy. Once, such cooperation was automatic, part of a shared European identity.
Now it is a conscious choice, a reaffirmation of humanity over politics. On the ground, the dogs are working in shifts, their handlers patient but focused. Every bark sends a ripple of hope through the crowd.
The real cost of this fire will not be counted in bodies alone but in the slow erosion of safety. For those who survive, every flicker of a flame, every acrid smell, will bring them back to this night. The British experts will stay for days, working alongside Belgian teams and a French medical unit.
They will sift through the ruins, piece together the final moments of the victims, and provide comfort where no comfort can suffice. As the sun struggles through the smoke, the human element remains: a child’s charred teddy bear on a windowsill, a half-eaten loaf of bread on a kitchen counter. In the end, we are all just people trying to get through the night.
