This was my first diplomatic posting, and during my career, I took part in the evacuation of British nationals (and others) in various locations. However, on this occasion, I was the one being evacuated from my residence to the embassy as a place of safety.
During this crisis, the SAS played a pivotal role in ensuring the safety of those involved.
Scene Setter
The involvement of the SAS was crucial in managing the unfolding situation effectively.
This was a day I would not forget in a hurry. With just under four months left in my tour, I had spent the previous day trawling through future job opportunities. The Ambassador was out of the country, leaving the Deputy Head of Mission (DHM) in charge. I should have known from past experience that trouble often flares up when Ambassadors are away from post.
That morning, I awoke to the sounds of large explosions and gunfire in all directions. What was going on? There had been no forewarning of trouble; things had been relatively quiet and stable in the city over the preceding weeks.
I tried to contact the DHM on my mobile, but the network was down—a bad sign. I got on the embassy radio net and contacted her. She informed me that she had just heard from the German Embassy that a local high-profile opposition politician, Azem Hajdari, had been assassinated outside Parliament, and his Democratic Party (DP) supporters were blaming the Socialist government for the murder.
She advised me to keep my head down and keep the radio close. They would try to get an embassy armoured vehicle to me as soon as possible, and we would all rendezvous at the embassy. By this time, the noise of fighting outside had grown louder and seemed to be getting nearer. The main government quarter was only two blocks away from my apartment, and the main fighting was in this area. I cautiously pulled back a shutter and looked outside, seeing smoke billowing from that quarter.
After about an hour, I heard a familiar voice on the radio—Benny, our embassy driver, calling from the armoured car radio just outside my gate. Not for the first time, he had come to get me out of a messy situation. He advised me to be careful coming out, as there was a body in front of my gate.
As I exited, the noise was deafening. Small arms fire seemed to be coming from the next street. Indeed, a man in what looked like a policeman’s uniform lay just to the side of my gate.
I didn’t wait to assess his condition. At that moment, a large group of armed men turned the corner onto my street, firing in all directions. I jumped into the car, and Benny quickly reversed the vehicle away from the crowd, turning it around at the intersection. Off we sped to the embassy, taking as many back roads as possible.
We reached the embassy safely, but it was disturbing to see that the usual armed security guarding the Embassy was nowhere to be seen. I ran into the building, where both the DHM and Management Officer (MO) were already present. The DHM had contacted London and appraised them of the situation. The violence was escalating, and it appeared to be a coup d’etat. London advised us to remain in lockdown in the embassy until further notice, which was not reassuring.
The hours passed, and as night fell, the sky lit up with explosions while the gunfire grew closer to the embassy. Throughout this, the DHM was updating London via secure communications about our precarious situation. They continued to advise us to stay in the embassy as help was on the way. What did that mean? How could they help us when they were in London, and we were trapped at the sharp end?
Help indeed was on the way, in the most unexpected form. After a long, restless night trying to sleep on the floor of my office under my desk, dawn broke with the sound of screeching tyres outside the embassy.
At first, we thought this was it—the bad guys had arrived, and we were destined for captivity or worse. But out of two strange-looking 4x4s poured a section of heavily armed Special Air Service (SAS) troopers who had flown into Tirana airport from the UK in an RAF transport aircraft without any flight clearance. They offloaded themselves and sped the 17 km to the embassy.
They set up their own communications suite in the Ambassador’s office, where their communication specialist felt at home behind the large desk. They brought in their weapons and stores, and after a short briefing, their patrol set off. Benny, our driver, volunteered to accompany them as a guide and interpreter if needed.
While one party was on this task, another group began setting up defensive positions within the embassy and briefing us on what to do if subjected to an attack. It was a boost to our morale to have these capable individuals with us, ready to protect us and evacuate if necessary.
Later that afternoon, the first patrol returned to the embassy with good news: our homes appeared, from the outside, not to have been looted. They reported that heavy fighting continued in various parts of the city, mainly centred around the government quarter. Benny later told us that the patrol had been menaced several times by armed men, but a few well-aimed shots above the heads of the mob convinced them to withdraw.
The fighting persisted for about three days. Each day, the sounds of gunfire and explosions seemed to diminish. The SAS continued sending out rotating patrols to monitor the situation in the city, deciding after the third day that there was no need to evacuate us as the fighting had run its course. Thankfully, on the fourth day, there was silence—no gunfire, no explosions.
The SAS kept us in the embassy for just over a week before they deemed it safe for us to return home and resume normal work. We also received reassurances from the Albanian government that order had been restored and local security reinstated. This was good news indeed.
However, it was a sad day when we bid farewell to our SAS rescuers as they packed up to leave. We had come to know them well over the long week. They were a thoroughly professional, no-nonsense group who were extremely sociable in their rare moments of downtime between patrols, sharing stories that entertained us during the long days and nights in the embassy.
I would miss their army ration packs on which we all lived, apart from the occasional pizzas they brought back from somewhere. I was unaware that part of any SAS rescue package included feeding everyone!
The day after they left, the Ambassador returned to post. Even he, not usually one for jokes, remarked tongue-in-cheek that in future he would give us ample warning of his next trip out of the country to prepare for the next crisis. Not funny. Yes, forewarn us of your absences, but make it far enough in advance so I can also ensure I’m not around!
I thought that after the events of Easter, when we were ambushed and two colleagues shot, things could not get worse. This story goes to show, never count your chickens…
https://mydiplomaticlife.com/albania-british-diplomats-ambushed-and-shot
https://mydiplomaticlife.com/ww2-raf-pilots-secret-grave-found-in-albania
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