May 01, 2007 (LBO) – Chamath Champika Jayalath was watching the Sri Lanka-Australia Cricket World Cup final shortly after 1.00 am Sunday when suddenly power supply went off. Waiting for power to come back, Jayalath was startled by the sound of explosions and heavy gunfire.
Rushing out, he saw tracer bullets streaming into the night sky from the general direction of a petroleum distribution facility a few kilometers away.
Soon after, silhouetted against the moonlit night – it was two days before the Vesak Full Moon Poya day – he saw a low-wing monoplane flying past his house without any navigation lights.
“It was an old-style aircraft – like from the second world war,” Jayalath told LBO. “This was not like a jet fighter.”
At 1.49 am, according to his mobile phone’s dialed out call list, Jayalath called 116, the emergency number given by the government to inform of any suspicious aircraft.
“The number was engaged,” recalls Jayalath. “Later I got through, but both times they lifted the receiver and then cut the line without answering.”
Jayalath must have felt very much like the Londoners caught in the Battle of Britain or the inhabitants of numer