On the afternoon of April 2, Yerevan, the capital of Armenia, was gripped with anxiety. On the street, the dour, worried faces of passersby clashed with the unusually warm and sunny spring weather. By evening, the normally bustling bars and restaurants were nearly empty, and the few patrons that did come were loath to touch the food and drinks they ordered. Waiters too were morose, having dropped any pretense at a customer-service smile. Earlier that morning the “frozen” Nagorno-Karabakh conflict had erupted in violence, and just like that, the country was at war.

It seems that under the cover of darkness, Azerbaijani troops on the border with the unrecognized Republic of Nagorno-Karabakh pushed across the line of contact, and with the support of tanks, gunships, and heavy artillery overran many of the Armenian positions, including three villages.

The next day, a successful counterattack by Armenian and NKR troops recovered much of the lost territory, but at significant human cost to both sides. On the third day, dozens of Armenian and Azerbaijani tanks squared off against one another in open battle. By the fourth day, with at least one hundred and seventy two people killed and negligent territorial gains or losses, a temporary ceasefire was signed, that at least for now, still holds.