How to Avoid Being Killed in a War Zone Page 9

  ‘Also, be careful what you carry in a war zone. Take no detailed maps, no compass and no binoculars.

  ‘And when it comes to questions, keep away from anything the enemy might find useful. Back in 1993 in Sarajevo, when I asked a commander on the front about troop strength, he accused me of being a spy and I got into a lot of trouble. Stick to human questions, stuff about what they and the civilian population around them are going through, stuff that will be relevant back home. Specifics about the military machine will get you in trouble.’

  /PASSING UNDER THE RADAR

  Spies are supposed to be people who can pass through a room, meeting and chatting with everyone, but no one remembers their name or even what they look like the following day. I am not suggesting you put on your tuxedo or slinky cocktail dress and make like a James Bond character, but if you want to pass under the radar, you need to find a way to become invisible. And if you can’t manage that, you must become so harmless and boring that you would never be considered a threat.

  If you are going under cover, the best thing to do is perfect the art of looking innocent. This is a lot easier if you are a brown girl! Never look directly at soldiers, look down if you have to, smile a lot and cook up stories as you go along. In Myanmar I smiled a lot, but I was very reliant on my fixer’s local knowledge. He was amazing, a real pro at making up stories, so we had plenty to tell people as we went along.

  The Nepal-based journalist Subina Shrestha told me that she and her husband have perfected the art of looking lost and pretending not to understand: ‘When we were doing a story in Uttar Pradesh in India, the cops and the politicians were threatening to kill us. They had goons with sticks, so we played simple, lost tourists. That helped, I think, or maybe we were just lucky.’

  Shadi Alkasim worked on some highly sensitive stories with the Baghdad Bulletin and other media outlets in Iraq. Lives were at risk, so he learnt to hold onto the most important stories until he was in a place where he could shout about them. ‘If you cover any important news – a corruption case, issues related to violations of the laws of war, or crimes against humanity – think very carefully before you publish the story. Publication can put your life at risk. My advice is to be patient until you leave the conflict zone, and then to publish what you want.’

  /WHERE TO SIT IN A DODGY PLANE

  While writing this book, there have been some questions people keep asking me again and again. The best place to be sitting in a plane in the event of a crash is one of them. I hadn’t even thought about it. I think I have been avoiding it. I get scared when I fly in big planes these days. Like a lot of frequent flyers, I’ve had my share of what felt like close calls. The Aeroflot wing clipping the water as it landed at Odessa after a five-second freefall earlier in the flight was probably the worst. But some confidence was restored by the hot South African pilots flying the Amman–Baghdad route. To avoid mortar attacks when landing, they have to let the plane spiral down to the ground. It takes about three minutes from top to bottom, or one appropriately anthemic Coldplay song on my iPod. You shift slightly forward in your seat and, compared to a normal landing, it feels like a nosedive. But these pilots manage it every time, and then they turn around and flash you a smile just to make sure you will recognize your hero if you see him later in the bar.

  I think what scares me about flying is my lack of control over the whole situation. But it turns out that we all have some power about the choices we make when we fly, and they get greater as the plane gets smaller. As a skydiver, I am tempted to tell you that if you find yourself in a plummeting aircraft, simply open the door, chuck yourself out and hope for the best. But that’s not the most sensible advice, so I turned to a man I know whose day job is to fly some of the scariest routes around – across parts of Africa where runways fear to tread, in planes that look like they were put together with superglue. Meet Mike Sawatzky. He has worked commercial, cargo and NGO flights across the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) for years, flying in and out of Kivu while battles rage below. Here’s his advice about the best place to sit:

  ‘I prefer two places: either next to the emergency exit or straight behind the pilot – even beside him if I can. Post 9/11 this is no longer possible in most places, but where I live in DRC the cockpit door is left open for you to meet and greet the crew and get to know them.

  ‘The emergency exit gives you the chance to be the first out of the plane before the fuel reaches flashpoint. But sitting at the back of the plane also has some advantages: it gives you the chance to be the last one to hit the deck. Plus, if you are crashing nose-down, you avoid everyone’s carry-on duty free hitting you on the back of the head.

  ‘As a pilot, I know that things go wrong and that I have remedied them in the past before the passengers realized what was happening. If a pilot can show me he’s cool as his world is falling apart, I can snooze and let him handle the questions after. Maybe that’s why I prefer sitting in the cockpit.

  ‘One time I flew with a Russian pilot to a bush strip in eastern DRC. He was a tough ex-military guy; he knew his stuff. I sat right behind this captain with his beer bottle beside his foot. As long as he didn’t go for it right before take-off or landing, I knew I was OK. And if anything went wrong, I could at least get in there and get my hands dirty. The gauges might have been in Cyrillic, but I could wrap my head around that – an airplane is an airplane.

  ‘When it comes to small planes, I never understand why people are so paranoid. We all appreciate the buzz of the plane as it passes overhead to land and get us outta there. No one frets as much about jumping onto a 50-ton jumbo jet to go hurtling through subspace for 12 hours – at least not to the extent that they will cancel a $3000 ticket.

  ‘You need to give your pilot the benefit of the doubt. He’s paid his dues to get where he is. Check him out: does he look you in the eyes without brushing off your concerns? Does he command the ground crew and cabin crew affirmatively and respectfully? Does he occasionally throw off the extra baggage because it’s just too much? Does he have an air of respect for his aircraft even if it’s old and lacking paint in certain places? These are all questions you and I have to ask ourselves before we get on board.

  ‘If you don’t like the look of the pilot, think hard and weigh your options. In many cases you might not have a choice. This is where the emergency exit seat comes in handy!’

  A final, but important, tip on moving around small airports on foot comes from Tom Coghlan: ‘Do not walk in front of propeller-driven planes when they have one or more engines turning over. Even at 20 metres, stuff gets sucked into the blades.’

  Do not crash your car into a dictator president’s security entourage (especially when the entourage is stationary). Mary O’Shea

  4/ Coping with Gunfire, Bombings and Missiles

  You can’t take just anyone from the street and send them into a battle zone. They have to understand the basics – how to discern between a missile, artillery, bullets, sniper or tank fire. I can distinguish these and then react. I can predict when the battle is starting from the people moving into position. I put myself in the position of the soldier. I look for their hiding places. I know the angles. Leith Mushtaq

  On a hostile-environment course a few years ago, I thought I knew everything already, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. I and a truly experienced and war-weary cameraman from Jerusalem dozed through most of the classes. Then we were taken on a day trip to an underground bunker for shooting practice. They showed us a bulletproof car and several different types of wall, and asked where we would hide if someone began to shoot at us. Most of us pointed to the bulletproof car. We then watched in astonishment as our teacher shot through the car in seven bullets, followed by a breezeblock wall in three and a redbrick wall in four. Bulletproof, my arse! A lesson was learnt and never forgotten: nowhere is safe.

  I should have known that from my time on exercise in Canada with the artillery. We were firing big missiles over dozens of kilometres, then going for
ward to check on the site for unexploded ordinance. One evening, with the sun going down, we decided to set up camp near a crater made by one of our missiles. We started ‘digging in’ – no mean feat when you have to bury a giant tank-size gun out of sight from an imaginary enemy. As we dug down, we found a network of chipmunk or some other local critter’s burrows. There were dozens of dead creatures, all killed by the force of one artillery shell 50 metres away and 3 metres of mud above them. A near miss can still kill.

  I spent plenty of time dodging what felt like targeted fire in Iraq, but in reality I have never been directly shot at. In that situation you need expert advice on where to be if all hell breaks loose – and who better to supply it than Chris Cobb-Smith, a man whose job it is to prepare people before they are plunged into dangerous places, and then bring them out again in one piece. The following information is largely his.

  /EMERGENCY PROCEDURES

  These are my recommended actions for dealing with shooting, guns, bombs and missiles. They can strike at any time and usually when you least expect it. Where do you want to be when they hit? What can you hide behind or should you just run?

  To avoid becoming a target

  • Don’t wear military-style clothing. Wear bland colours that don’t attract attention, but differing shades top and bottom so it doesn’t look like uniform.

  • Be careful if filming as a video camera can be mistaken for a weapon: the sun glinting off the lens can be mistaken for that off a weapon sight, or even for the flash of a weapon firing. It could attract attack on the ground and also from artillery or aircraft.

  • Try not to have anything shiny that might attract attention.

  • Be careful of using flash photography.

  • Consider the implications of the markings on your vehicles – ‘Press,’ ‘Media’, the name of your charity or organization. Will it provide immunity or attract targeting? This changes according to the environment.

  Monique Nagelkerke has worked for Médecins Sans Frontières for 20 years, and says that over time people living inside a war zone fail to remain alert and prepared for any eventuality. ‘The first time we were bombed by Khartoum forces in south Sudan it was Christmas morning. I was awake, but many were sleeping. A plane flew over, lower than usual. I put on my clothes and my contact lenses and got outside in time to see a plane fly back and bombs start raining down. I went straight to look for a team member who was still sleeping in her hut, grabbed her arm and yelled, “We’re being bombed.” She took out her earplugs and only then realized the danger. As we ran away – too late, the bombs had already landed – the earplug girl looked at me, and said in a lovely French accent, “I am not wearing my bra!” She clutched her rather large bosom in her hands and we continued running away from the stone buildings.

  ‘Lessons learnt: 1) When in a war zone, do not sleep with earplugs in. 2) Wear a bra when sleeping if you have a large bosom, in case you need to run. 3) Never continue looking at a returning plane when in an area that has already been bombed by similar-looking planes. Run!’

  If shots are fired near your house or office…

  Study and rehearse the following procedures:

  • Remain in the building.

  • Keep communications equipment to hand.

  • Stay together as a group.

  • Take cover.

  • Lock doors.

  • Stay away from the windows.

  • Raise the alarm using prearranged telephone numbers.

  • Assess whether it is safe to exit the building or better to stay put.

  Mary O’Shea recalls: ‘In Lebanon I was told to sleep in the bath when there was gunfire or shelling.’

  If firing comes closer and there might be a raid on the building…

  • Move into the safe room (see Safe Room) or bomb shelter. Failing that, go under the stairs or into a room with no outside walls.

  • Wait for the all-clear before venturing out.

  • If there is time as the situation deteriorates, remove glass from the windows and any clutter from the room as it will fly around and cause injury in the event of a blast. Wet mattresses placed up against the walls will absorb fragments and possibly bullets.

  • As a last resort, go onto the roof, if accessible. Once everyone is out there, lock the access door, stay away from the edge and signal for help with a torch, mini-flares or a phone.

  If you are caught outside…

  Your first priority should be to take cover:

  • Don’t look for the person firing – use your ears and move away from the sound.

  • Don’t take cover in a place that someone was recently using as a firing position.

  • If caught in the open, go immediately for the most obvious cover, such as a dip in the ground, then assess the situation.

  • If you have a car, avoid hiding near the petrol tank, and remember that the door will be useless protection. Try to get behind the engine block, by one of the front wheels.

  • If you need to observe to assess the situation, look around but never over whatever you are using as cover.

  • If in a group and trying to escape the danger, move individually and at intervals, as unpredictably as possible.

  • Leave any equipment behind if it is going to hinder your escape.

  Monique Nagelkerke agrees totally with this advice, and says: ‘Keep your head down. So many times people stand up, look around or look out of the window when there is shooting and shelling going on. The best reaction is literally to keep your head down. Dig down behind a wall, behind a copy machine, behind a coffee table – anything as long as you do not stand up and look around.’

  If there is a bomb warning…

  • If the bomb threat comes over the phone, ask the caller as many questions as possible and take down the details, e.g. where the bomb is planted, when it will be detonated and why. Also note whether the caller is male or female, the accent, attitude, any background noise, etc.

  • Evacuate the target area.

  • Inform the authorities, military, etc.

  If there is an explosion…

  • Take cover immediately. Lie down under whatever cover is available, even a table or bed. As soon as it’s practical to do so, move to a bomb shelter or safe room.

  • Assess the situation and bomb direction, then, when safe to do so or under orders, move to the emergency exit in the opposite direction from the sound of the bomb. There might be a secondary device or a gunman picking off targets at the main exit.

  • Use prearranged escape routes (see Exit Plan).

  • Do not stand in any gathering or crowd. The threat of a secondary bomb or bomber remains.

  The Holy Koran says that whatever happens to us is our destiny, and we trust in the Holy Koran. The date for our death is written; we cannot change it.

  Sayed Hashim, captain, Afghan National Army

  5/ Keeping Safe in a Crowd, Protest or Riot

  In a war zone you have to be thinking all the time ‘What if…?’ Don’t get isolated within a crowd or within a war zone… physically or emotionally. Dr Carl Hallam

  The people I love are those who tend to follow the path least travelled. They’re the opposite of me: I have always felt the magnetic pull of a crowd. If I hear a party, I’ll knock on the door. I see a queue and I wonder whether it’s worth joining. If I am on the edge of something, I want to be in the middle. It’s a weakness that nearly saw me killed several times in Iraq.

  Curiosity has driven me into all sorts of dangerous situations. I am often more interested in what I am going to find out, or what I can be a part of, than assessing whether it is safe to go ahead. It was only when I started putting other people’s lives in danger that I began to stop and think.

  Between Basra city and its airport, where the UK-led forces were based, there was a large crossroads. As the only safe route in and out of the city in that direction, it became a popular protest hotspot in the summer of 2003. They were always sure to grab the at
tention of passing troops.

  I was a freelance reporter with a licence to poke my nose in where it wasn’t wanted. A few of my best stories had come from walking up to small, sensible demos and asking what they were complaining about. In the lawless world that was post-invasion Iraq it was one of the few ways for people to vent their anger and make their point known. There were no trusted police, soldiers or politicians to turn to. The only options were to demonstrate or pick up a gun. But those smaller, controlled gatherings were like an entry drug into the world of riots. I was quickly addicted.

  So when, one day, my trip to the airport was interrupted by a group of angry young men blocking the crossroads, I was surprised when the Iraqi friend I was with stopped around half a kilometre away from them and said we should turn back. In fact, I was a little annoyed. I was going to be late for an important meeting with a top British Army general.

  From a distance, we could see there were about 250 people waving flags and burning tyres. It looked familiar to me – I had even seen one car pass through the raging group already, and I wanted to follow. What I had failed to notice was that all the other cars were stopping and turning back. One of the two friends I had in the car was a British freelancer on a visit from Baghdad. I wanted him to meet the army chief before he left for the capital again. ‘Onward,’ I said. And we began a stuttered crawl towards the crowd.

  We passed a man wandering away from the crossroads, and on the insistence of my friends, we stopped to ask if it was safe for us to pass through. He looked at us through glazed eyes and curled his fingers over the top of the open window of my door, as if to wrench it open. We tried to stay calm as he shouted ‘English? English?’ at us. In sync, we three shouted back ‘Iraqi’, ‘French’ and ‘Swedish’ – well practised by now. He shook his head and shouted ‘English, English’ again, turning towards the protest. It was then we saw that he had two grenades in his other grubby hand, now resting next to the one on my door, inches from my face. He looked back at us and my British friend reached across and opened my door, kicking it open to push grenade boy back. We then roared into reverse and he came running towards us. We drove away from the crowd as fast as we could.