WE were in Amsterdam when Thomas Hamilton murdered 16 children and their schoolteacher at Dunblane. Our hotel room had BBC1 via satellite so we sat on the double bed and watched the Six O'Clock News, dumbfounded.

The picture of OJ Simpson above the word "Acquitted" was almost enough to shock us into sobriety when we saw it on the TV in a bar near Loch Lomond during a Scottish holiday. And it was in a Cornish pub where we witnessed Louise Woodward crumple into tears on being convicted for the manslaughter of baby Matthew Eappen.

It got to the point when we positively expected a major story to break when we took a break. So, on setting off to France a fortnight ago, we voiced the usual superstitious inquiry: what's going to happen this time?

The England football team put our minds at rest by beating Germany 5-1 in Munich. I suggested that nothing more surprising or momentous was likely to happen this year. That now seems a very lame joke.

It's hard to imagine such innocent times were only a few days ago. Back from France but still on holiday, I watched the attack on America while assembling a jigsaw with my son on the living room carpet. Another unforgettable holiday moment.

This week the world has tried to get a grip. Away from New York and Washington, lives are returning to normal. But this is not like Dunblane, or OJ, or Woodward; this is not a news story with an ending, happy or otherwise. Even when all the dead have been identified and the last of several thousand funerals concluded, we may still only be at the beginning.

We must hope President Bush continues to resist huge domestic pressure for military retaliation, at least until he has built an international coalition against terrorism. Inexact retribution is the last thing the world needs.

Many comparisons have been made between September 11, 2001, and December 7, 1941: the attack on Pearl Harbor. Then, as now, it was observed that a sleeping giant had been reawakened. But 60 years ago it was roused to attack a highly visible enemy, not unseen, largely unidentified terrorists.

Many terrible numbers have emerged since September 11: the 5,000-plus known to be missing, temperatures of 1,000C at the height of the World Trade Centre fire, around two million tons of rubble to be removed for examination at the chillingly-named Fresh Kills landfill site on Staten Island.

This week brought a new, terrifying statistic. Two-thirds of Americans would support military retaliation "even if it means many thousands of innocent civilians may be killed".

Admittedly, that figure was obtained at the peak of the outrage. And the immediate American desire to lash out with all the might at their disposal is an understandable one.

But an Old Testament response will only inflame a 21st century crisis. How could America or her allies speak of justice if our attacks killed as many, if not more, innocent people than the terrorists? Is the death of an Afghan farmer at the hands of a Western cruise missile any more acceptable than the death of a US office worker by a hijacked plane? Of course not.

Unfortunately, America appears to be gripped by a similar mania to that which afflicted Britain after Diana was killed. Dissenting voices have been all but silenced. Only those advocating a violent response can be heard. The terrorists have succeeded in temporarily suspending America's sacred right of free speech.

No military action should be taken in this volatile atmosphere. President Bush must hold out until America's hunger for bloody revenge has diminished. Then the world can unite behind his crusade to bring the terrorists to justice.