Hostile environments
It's called crack and thump. It's called fear and fascination.
I am in a deep concrete trench, looking up at a sandbank high above my head as there's a whip-crack whistle, followed by a dull bang. It is the noise of a bullet travelling at more than the speed of sound above me: the thump at the end is bizarrely the weapon firing it. The bullets whizzing overhead are real enough, but this is play-acting, not war reporting.
The reason I haven't posted recently is that I've been on a six-day TOR training course, preparing journalists for what are known officially as "hostile environments".
I really hope I am never this close to live rounds fired in anger, but some of those standing so casually in the trench with me expect, perhaps even hope, to be this close to the sound of fighting.
Why am I here if I don't want to get close to gunfire? Well, I am not and never will be a frontline war correspondent, but it was getting increasingly stupid not knowing this stuff.. Just before the summer I was all ready to go on a trip to see the EU mission in Chad and was stopped from going because I hadn't done the course. Then there's the little matter of the first European war of the 21st Century, awaiting EU observers. And even the most timid journalist is someone who runs the wrong way: towards trouble, rather than away from it.
The few courses I've had to do over the years have felt like an imposition, however necessary they may have been. They made me fidget. Not this one. It's great fun, occasionally horrible, and provides food enough to feed scores of thoughts on everything from your own breaking point to group dynamics. I can't tell you about the most traumatic parts, for that would spoil it for those yet to come. Suffice to say, Hostaelia is much rougher than Vontinalys, which was the last imaginary country I reported from. 
Much of the course takes place in the grounds of an old mansion. I can almost imagine I am at John le Carre's The Nursery at Sarratt. But this is a conference centre and the illusion is spoilt by posh guests from the silver wedding receptions and supermarket middle manager who mingle incongruously with us mud- and fake blood-splattered hacks. Still you feel tense, constantly on guard. Is that gardener trimming the border hiding an AK 47 in his wheelbarrow? Why is there a moth in the wash basin, two nights running? Does it mean something? Despite this ridiculous over-awareness I still manage to be the first and only member of the course to set off a booby-trap bomb.
One exercise is about how best to take cover when under fire and a group of us play the baddies, stalking the grounds. We are toting pistols (decommissioned, obviously) and targeting colleagues as they run behind Land Rovers or scatter for trees. There is something horribly, evilly, attractive about guns. I despise myself for liking the weight of the automatic in my hand, and the excitement of tracking Maddy the Newsround reporter, who has made the mistake of wearing a bright red anorak If this was for real she would probably be dead. Later in the week it would be understandable: I turn green with envy at the end of the course, watching the series of engaging and lucid reports she's produced under extremely traumatic conditions. Maybe then I would have shot her just out of professional jealousy. I've seen the future and she wears a red anorak.
But at this stage there's no such motive, it's just that the person I'd been laughing and joking with a few minutes earlier has turned into a target in my sights. Behind the role-playing and a lot of joking this is deeply sobering. Anyone who works at the BBC knows people whose lives have been ruined or ended while just doing their job. I think a lot this week about someone who I knew very briefly, who was very kind to me, and who is dead.
This is in the end about trying to stay alive. Where should you take cover? In just about every Hollywood movie cops and robbers exchange fire, ducking down behind an open car door. Not a good idea.
At the range one of our instructors fires an AK 47 at a range of objects. It messes up a single brick wall, is stopped by a thickish tree trunk and dents body armour, and shatters some of the ceramic plate. A car door? Paper and scissors, not rock. Most graphically a catering-size tin of tomatoes has a tiny hole where the bullet goes in, but the back is nearly ripped off, the top buckled upwards by shockwaves. Imagine the tin is your leg, and the red lumps, well, you get the picture.
If this didn't bring the reality home to us, a major part of the course is about first aid for traumatic wounds, far from a hospital. No mannequins for us. A gentleman called Ian plays the victim several times a day. We are taken for a walk in the woods and come across him fallen out of a tree with a crushed spine, vomiting on the ground, hanging half out of a Land Rover with gunshot wounds, in the dark surrounded by the sound of gunfire, his strap-on plastic intestines hanging out. Like some modern version of Everyman an immobile and blood-streaked Ian is a recurring punctuation mark - like a figure in a medieval painting, constantly reminding us of our own mortality and fragility.
At least these days there is training. Long before I worked for the BBC I worked for IRN. I cowered before charging police horses during the Wapping riots and innocently walked between police and Republican lines in Northern Ireland. When a fridge was pushed from a top floor flat and burst in a shower of metal about 50 feet away it briefly flickered into my head that I had been less than clever and more than lucky. But training? Never crossed my mind.
I have always scoffed at the idea of office workers bonding by building rafts, but I can see now how it could work. Certainly one of the best things about the course was meeting some great people. I have a sealed envelope and am confident that in my armchair-bound dotage I will watch one of them presenting the Ten O'Clock News from a trouble zone, perhaps going on to "two-way" the new Africa editor and someone else in a favourite blue hoodie. I'll feel even happier about it knowing they have training as well as luck on their side.
Welcome to my 
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Mark i'm glad you enjoyed your course, i'm sure it was an informative experiance and it sounds like good fun as well.
Team Building exercises in general are always good fun and I can see why companies use them, as a way of motivating there employees.
What else is there to say?
Not really the most Bloggable subject.
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it will come in handy for future reporting from ukraine, belarus, moldova, caucasus, etc.
welcome to the new 1930s. things may get a lot worse before they start getting better again.
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Maybe with a few more BBC courses Maddy will be able to blog about Europe while saying as little as possible about what is going on Brussels?
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I had some similar courses in the army- its quite safe crawling along a trench while a machine gun shreds a row of sandbags above your head, but it sure focuses the mind!
Why exactly are you being shown to use weapons though? A journalist carrying a weapon is no longer a journalist. He becomes a partisan and is fair game for shooting at. The geneva convention is very strict on this sort of thing.
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mark, there would appear to have been some sort of mixup with the euroblog post. it seems the admins have posted an entry from your personal memoirs and not the blog entry that you wrote for 'mark mardell's euroblog'. oh well. and yes, maddy is indeed sweet. that was the central point of your blog, wasn't it?
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What makes you think you aren't on the front lines already? Do you think the people who bombed the underground, the buses, who planned to bomb the Glasgow airport are the end? More likely they are just the beginning. In a war on terror where the enemy is determined to bring about an end to your way of life, everywhere is the front lines and there are no time outs. Just ask the people in Pakistan. But I'll bet complacency has already replaced fear as you have returned to "the real world" and feel safe and secure without a second thought most of the time. That is of course when you are most vulnerable and the enemy knows it. Better keep looking up, you never know when another refrigerator just might fall out of the sky. Splat.
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MAII
Nice little rant, do you feel better now?
This is a rather Pointless Thread, Maddy's not that cute!
As death is the only certainty in life there is not reason to fear it. There is nothing to fear but fear itself.
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Mark:
it is a good idea that the BBC requires all journalists and employees to attend this valuable training.
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The catering tin of tomatoes demonstration is very valuable. It proves why soldiers and police fire arms officers are trained to shoot to kill... because you can't guarantee to shoot to wound. Shoot someone in the shoulder with a standard NATO round and you remove their arm. Frankly I wish more people would see this sort of demonstration rather than thinking real life is 'Die Hard'.
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Using tinned tomatoes for a demonstration of the size of an exit wound - perhaps the fact that tinned tomatoes are dirt cheap has a touch of irony about it?
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Talking about "hostile environments", it seems that the French Opposition have withdrawn their support for what they now call a "War of Occupation" in Afghanistan:
French Opposition withdraws support, declares Afghanistan "War of Occupation"
Seemingly the main cause for this change in support is public opinion is now against Mr Sarkozy's decision to send more combat troops even though this is a NATO event, all NATO countries should pull together and France is only committing 100 more troops from amongs its huge army.
Just imagine having the French Opposition in power and a Nato country needing military support, I think it would have to hold its breath waiting on the French to commit to any support at all.
Who needs enemies when you have the French on your side.
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hostile enviroment guess your talking about the the EU very hostile and dangerous place to be .totaly undemocratic failling now in public support
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Very relevant, jaws1912.
The lengths people go to troll never ceases to amaze me. Talk about a broken record.
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Don't feel bad for liking the rifle. It doesn't mean you are a bad person. Killing, is after all, very human. (However, I hope you never have to go that road). Regarding Maddy, she is very cute, indeed.
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"Talk about a broken record."
I'd say the E.U has a very poor record of being Democratic, dont think it quite a broken one yet, but its getting pretty tatty you know.
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#11. Can you really say you're suprised? The French have a thousand year history of surrendering whenever things get a little tough, then rewriting history to make it look like a great plan.
All I can saw is its a miracle the Germans held onto France so long with so few troops when the entire country seemed active members of the resistance......
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How scary.
But as you said, you might not be allowed in future to go to an interesting place or another, because you don't have the Certificate of one such a course... so this may prove handy.
What stops AK bullets is never wrong to know. That a tree trunk is better than a single-brick wall. And as you wrote - forget about open car doors. Normal people never know such things.
Mark, even that you know so many useful things now, take an advise from a local - of all potential conflict zones mentioned by benaguerek at #2 - go to Moldova/Transdniester one. If you'd have such a fancy at all - keep to Transdniester. Not to other mentioned places.
There this training has at least chances to be sufficient...
Moldova has 2.5 soldiers, plus Moldovians call their army "givemeacigarette", as this is their main training - asking for cigarettes in the streets.
Transdniester is all equipped, but consists of 40% native Moldovians, and doesn't want to fight with Moldova very much.
What helps is it's the only NOT ethnic conflict in the ex-USSR, same faith, same people, no serious contradictions to quarrel about. Simply one side wants to be Russia, the other side wants to be West.
But Transdniester wants to be Russia much much more than Russia itself wants to have it, it is more of a one-side love.
Besides, they don't want even to be Russia! They want to be what doesn't exist anymore - Soviet, USSR! We can't give it to them.
They keep Soviet emblems on their excellent 100% real silver coins. And post posters of Che Gevara round the capital.
They are more roi, how to say, than the roi himself! Simply lost there behind times.
Moldova wants them badly, they need land, they won't be killing them, they are trying to charm Transdniester back home. Offer them possibility to keep Soviet emblems as much as they like, and to have autonomous status WITH THE RIGHT TO EXIT at any moment - inside Moldova. And offer them to allow to keep a separate budget, without any donations to the central one! (because Transdniester is much more rich than Moldova itself, they sell steel to the USA and cogniacs, all that you see "Moldovian" in the world is not, it is made by Transdniester companies registered in Moldovia.
Moldovia earns money by issueing legal cover to Transdniester manufacturers, they really work together well and need one another. Moldova is papers, Transdniester is production.
If they unite, Ukraine will open railway route blocked for the past 18 years, and Moldova-Transdniester combined will be able to sell more and better by railway.
If Russia recognises Transdniester now, Ukraine will close even the automobile road and will put Transdniester under full siege.
Than Russia won't be able to help, we have no common border. As Kremlin says - we recognise them, then what? - will be throwing money down on Transdiester from the helicopters?
And peacekeepers there are charm. It's local Transdniestrians and Moldovians having Russian passports.
Both describe their work as "As I walked by myself, and peacekept to myself..."
I think this is going to be most peaceful conflict zone of all.
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Yes, and forgot to add another good point - neither Moldova not Transdniester separately or together want to be NATO.
Transdniester simply wants to be "USSR",
Moldova declared a neutrality status.
What's even better, NATO doesn't need Moldova or Transdniester, there heaps of NATO bases in Roumania next door.
No need to add up more in tiny Moldova.
So Russia won't be hysterical about any developments btw Moldova-Transdniester, together they are, or separate - not dangerous for us.
Russia not nervous ab NATO there - also a good point in favour of the region staying peace.
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If the situation holds longer, there is another outcome possible. Transdniester will swallow Moldova.
Transdniester is thriving monetary, has healthy youngsters, full systems, all own, parliament, army, customs', even like an own KGB! schools, universities, they are really a good tiny state. Incredible, but possible, because they register companies in Moldova, who's got a number of excellent trade allowances from the EU.
1.8% customs' duty on Moldova export to the EU countries, etc. Under the Moldova umbrella - and all the world spoils Moldova eager to keep it away from Russia's evil influence - Transdniester trades with the whole world, manages to sell into the USA more than Russia, I think.
Meanwhile Moldovians themselves in Moldova don't want to live there, they all try to run into the "West proper". So many have run away, that very few people are left. Majority of Moldovians living now in Moldova have Roumanian passports.
Moldova government simply won't have any citizens soon to command over, all its citizens are Roumanians by passport.
That's why Moldova wants Transdniestrians, to have some own population, after all.
And Transdniestrians are incredible folk, idealists, their youngsters believe that distant Russia is a paradise and goody-goody people's haven.
So they mix up Medvedev posters with Che Gevara posters and think that Medvedev is a total Che Gevara, flaming communist and a revolutionare.
If I were a correspondent I'd go there at once, simply to look at this incredible Transdniester lost in times and between bigger countries, last idealists in the world.
And their coins must be bought now, neumismatic treasure. They don't take neither roubles nor dollars nor euros, send you to the bank exchange.
Their money is big real silver coins, with hammer and sickle! one side, and Tourine Olympics skiier in the mountain slope - the other side!
Written "hundred roubles coin."
What that skiier doing there - nobody knows.
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Human skin and flesh does not act like can of tomatoes. Well, not when it's healthy, intact, and connected to a human body as per spec, anyway.
Your standard 7.62x39mm FMJ bullet fired out of an AK-47 will not rip apart your leg or arm. Thanks to Youtube etc., there are mountains of evidence out there against such wounding effects viewable by anyone. That's not to say it would be a pleasant experience, of course -- consider having a pencil rammed through you extremely fast.
Some human tissues though, being softer and less elastic, do undergo what you might call splatter with supersonic impacts. The liver and the brain, for example. But, really, getting an 8mm hole crushed through any of your vital organs is bad news, splatter or no splatter.
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Hi Mark, training is a good think especially when nothing happens after that. What I see in a drill like this one is rather a children?s play which has little to do with reality.
Fighting terrorism proved to be more complicated than one has ever imagined. The explanation is simple: there is no power over an individual who has made up his mind to sacrifice his life for some ideal, no matter how foolish it may be. Hence the risk for those who are supposed to stop him, and maybe for some fellow journalist who happened to be in the field at the bad time... God keep you!
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I want to go to do TransDniester !
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isn't the level of injury actually dependent on the type of projectile used. Not the weapon and where it hits
Bullets come in sizes and are made with different compounds and tips !
PS - The only shot known to be fully effective is a head shot
And the commenter who talks of Shoot to Kill policy = since when have we had that then ?
I only remember the 22nd July 2005 as being that way and all the coppers who have shot to kill this year seem to have done so unnecessarily (there's a few pending cases !).
mmmmm time to move to Somalia - at least there you expect to be shot to be killed !
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Mark, here is the song for you, for travels and expeditions, about dangerous journalist's life. Since you are so accommodating a host. and all. but we all hope such songs is distant past, and won't repeat again neither for war correspondents, nor for all of us.
Korrespondentskaya Za-stolnaya
(War correspondent at-a-table song)
From Moscow to Brest
There isn't such a place
Where didn't wander we in dust.
With "leika" (a photo camera?) and block-note
And sometimes - even with a machine-gun!
Through the heat and cold we have passed.
Without a good vodka gulp, tovarisch,
You cannot start a good songie!
Se let's, at a friendly table,
Drink to those - writing
Drink to those - shooting
Drink to those walking - under fire!
Good reasons never lacking
What to drink for about! -
for the finally working military comms wire,
For "Y-2" (think it was a plane), for "M-ka" (?), for success
As we were walking miles,
As we were pushing stuck cars by shoulder
As we managed to get every place - ahead of all the rest!
From the winds and colds
Our voices became kind of husky
But we'll tell to our critics: (try to)
Gypsy- travel - our measure! (amount)
Sleep in the open - our measure!
Work in the war - like we did - 3rd year in the row!
There where we've been to -
Nobody gave us tanks,
But we didn't lose good spirits never:
In a lousy pick-up! (truck)
And with a broken pistol times the Civil war!
We were entering the cities first.
Now it's time to drink up
For the dead reporters
Became their grave - Kiev or Crimea.
Though they at times
Were total heroes
No one will put them a monument.
So let's drink - to the victory!
To - our gazetta!
And - if we won't live up to it, my dear,
Someone later will hear this song
Remember us and write about
Somebody will drink for you and me.
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