Rosie Garthwaite - How to Avoid Being Killed in a War Zone

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 attention 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.

That was no riot, but it was a group of relatively well-organized men, dangerous, armed and angry, and looking for a target. No one spoke much on the way back to my Iraqi friend’s home with his wife and four children. But every now and then I bleated ‘Sorry’.

The Al Jazeera correspondent Hoda Abdel-Hamid told me: ‘Crowds in general are not good. Crowds in a war zone are worse. There was a huge bomb in Iskandaryia and 55 people were killed. It was at a time when we could still move around, so we found a spot for the satellite. We went to the police station where the car bomb had hit. I remember a kid was there, waving a severed hand around in our faces. While we were there a car went past spraying bullets. I ran with the crowd. In all the confusion, a man shoved his hands down my pants. At the end of the road there was barbed wire. The man was pushing me and I was stuck in the barbed wire. Our security guard pulled me out. But you can’t rely on that. You should always make sure you know your escape routes.’

The best advice is to avoid street protests at all costs. Of course, that’s not always possible; sometimes they run into you. And sometimes you might join a small peaceful protest that turns into a riot. You might be in an ambulance waiting to deal with the fallout nearby. You might be involved as a protester when it all goes wrong.

If there is one piece of advice that stays with you from this chapter, it has to be ‘Stop and think before you go’. Even if you are alone, it’s not just yourself that is heading into the line of danger. There are people at home waiting for you to come back, your dog, your colleagues – they all need you to stay safe.

Marc Laban, co-founder of AsiaWorks Television, recalls a violent episode in Thailand: ‘In May 1992 all hell broke loose on the streets of Bangkok. A massive anti-government rally exploded into several nights of extreme violence. Unable to disperse the crowds with a show of strength, soldiers opened fire on protesters, killing dozens. The stand-off continued for several nights. I was struck by the protesters’ resolve to stand firm: at one point they even drove a hijacked city bus directly at the soldiers. It was the first time I had ever seen anything like this, and I learnt pretty quickly that it is important to put yourself on the sidelines when bullets are flying, and rely on a long lens to record the moment.

‘Before I moved to Thailand a colleague had joked, “Going to Asia, eh? You’re gonna see a lot of dead bodies.” I had laughed nervously at the time. I wasn’t laughing now. No journalists were killed but plenty were hurt, mostly by flying debris. An AP journalist nearly lost her eye when she was hit with a ball-bearing.’

There is no safety in numbers when it comes to a riot. You might feel invisible in the crowd, but that mass is a powerful force and it can quickly turn, especially against a stranger. You cannot predict the whims of a crowd, but when it moves it will move together.

Journalist Tim Albone had a near squeak in Afghanistan: ‘My translator and driver saved my life one day in Kabul. We were driving to the scene of an accident involving an American truck – the brakes had failed and it had run over and killed some Afghans, and an angry mob had gathered. As we got close to the scene, we could hear gunshots and I sensed trouble. Tahir, my translator, told us to lock the car doors. Only moments later our car was surrounded by a group of men shouting and trying to open the doors and pull us out. Tahir ordered Azad, the driver, to floor it, which he did. As soon as we broke free from the crowd, Tahir started laughing. When I asked him what was so funny, he said: “You should have heard what they were saying. They wanted to skin you alive.” Tahir’s quick thinking might have been a life-saver, but he had a terrible sense of humour.’

When assessing the risks ahead, you need to think about anti-riot weapons and the possibility of being hit by them. Understanding what you are up against should help you to stay calm and decisive if you ever find yourself face to face with armed riot police.

Water-cannonswill knock you off your feet if they hit you directly, and can cause serious injury. Get out of their way, steadily and without drawing unnecessary attention to yourself. If you cannot avoid being hit, stay low and roll into a ball with your back to the weapon.