This was my first diplomatic posting and during the course of my career I took part in the evacuation of British nationals (and others) in a number of locations but on this occasion, I was the one being evacuated albeit from my residence to the embassy as a place of safety.
Scene Setter
This was a day I was not going to forget in a hurry. I had just under four months left before my tour ended and I had spent the previous day at work trawling through future job opportunities. The Ambassador was again out of the country and the Deputy Head of Mission (DHM) was once more in charge. I should have known from previous experience and recent incidents that trouble always seemed to flare up when Ambassadors are away from post.
On this day, I awoke very early to the sounds of large explosions and the rattle of gunfire that seemed to be going off in all directions. What was going on? There had been no forewarning of trouble and things had been relatively quiet and stable in the city over the preceding weeks.
I tried to get hold of the DHM on my mobile phone but the network was down, always a bad sign. I immediately got on the embassy radio net and contacted her. She said that she had just heard from the German Embassy that a local high profile opposition politician, Azem Hajdari, had been assassinated outside the Parliament building and his Democratic Party (DP) supporters were on the warpath blaming the Socialist government party for the murder.
She advised me to keep my head down, keep the radio close to hand and they would try and 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 seemed to be getting louder and getting nearer. The main government quarter was only just two blocks away from my apartment and it sounded like the main fighting was in this area. I cautiously pulled back a shutter and looked outside and saw there was a lot of smoke billowing forth from that quarter.
After about an hour, I heard a familiar voice on the radio, it was Benny our Embassy driver calling from the armoured car radio just outside my front gate. Not for the first time had he come to get me out of another messy situation. He advised me to be careful coming out as there was a body in front of my gate.
As I came out, the noise was deafening, there was small arms firing which appeared to be coming from the next street and there was indeed a man in what looked like a policeman’s uniform lying just to the side of my gate.
Was he wounded or dead? I didn’t hang around to assess his condition as just at that moment, a large group of armed men turned the corner on to my street firing in all directions as they advanced. Why they were shooting at a vehicle that was clearly marked as a diplomatic car, I had no idea. I jumped into the car and Benny quickly reversed the vehicle away from the onrushing crowd, turned it around at the intersection and 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 government provided armed security guarding the Embassy and the surrounds was nowhere to be seen. We drew up to the embassy and I ran into the building. Both the DHM and Management Officer (MO) were already there. The DHM had already contacted London and appraised them of the situation. It appeared that the violence was escalating and that it could very well be a coup d’etat. London advised us to remain in lockdown in the embassy and to stay there until further notice. Not very reassuring.
The hours went by, nighttime came and the sky was lit up with explosions and the gunfire seemed to be getting closer to the embassy. Throughout all of this, the DHM was updating London via our secure communications channels of our ever-growing precarious situation. They continued to advise us to stay in the embassy as help was on the way. What did that mean? How on earth were they going to help us? They were in London and we were trapped and bottled up at the sharp end.
Well, indeed help was on the way in the most unexpected form. After a long, restless and uncomfortable night trying to sleep on the floor of my office under my desk, as dawn was breaking, there was 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 some form of uncertain captivity or worse, but no, out of two strange looking 4x4s, poured a section of heavily armed and equipped Special Air Service (SAS) troopers who had flown into Tirana airport from the UK in an RAF transport aircraft (without any flight clearance), offloaded themselves and sped the 17 Kms to the embassy.
They then set up their own communications suite in the Ambassador’s office (their communication specialist felt very much at home behind the large Ambassadorial desk), brought in their weapons and stores and after a short briefing, their patrol set off. Benny our driver volunteered to go with them and act as guide and interpreter if needed.
While one party was employed on this task another group made a start of setting up defensive positions within the embassy and thoroughly briefing us on what to do if we were subjected to an attack. It really was a boost to our morale that we had these guys now with us, more than able to physically protect us and if needed get us out of there to a place of safety if things deteriorated.
Later that afternoon the first patrol returned to the embassy. The good news was that they reported our homes had appeared from the outside not to have been looted. They said there was still heavy fighting going on in various parts of the city, but it seemed to be centred mainly around the government quarter. Benny told us later that the patrol had been menaced on several occasions by armed men, but a few well aimed shots above the heads of the mob had convinced them to melt away and not to mess with the patrol.
The fighting went on for about three days. Each day the sound of gunfire and explosions seemed to decrease. The SAS continued to send out rotating patrols to monitor the situation in and around the city, deciding after the third day that there was no need to evacuate us out of the country as their assessment was the fighting had run its course. Indeed thankfully, on the fourth day there was silence, no gunfire and no explosions.
The SAS kept us in the embassy for just over a week before they deemed it fully safe for us to return to our homes and resume normal work. We also received reassurances from the Albanian government that the fighting had now ceased, order had been restored and our local security would be reinstated. All of this was good news indeed.
However, it was a sad day when we came to bid farewell to our SAS rescuers as they packed up to leave. We had got to know them pretty well over the course of a long week. They were a thoroughly professional, no nonsense group of guys who were extremely sociable in the rare moments they took time out to relax in between patrols with a wealth of stories that kept us entertained during the long days and nights we were cooped up in the embassy.
Tested to destruction: Ex-SAS officer reveals the terrifying selection …
I personally would miss their army ration packs on which we all lived, apart from rare welcome pizzas they brought back occasionally from goodness knows where by some of the patrols. I was not aware that as part of any SAS rescue package, they had to feed everyone as well!
With impeccable timing, the day after they left, the Ambassador returned to post. Even he, not usually one to crack a joke at the best of times remarked tongue in cheek that in future he would give us ample warning of his next trip out of country so that we could be prepared for the next crisis. Not funny. Yes, by all means forewarn us of your next absence but make it far enough in advance so that I for one could also ensure I was not around as well!
I thought that after the events of Easter when we were ambushed and two of my colleagues shot, things could not have got any worse, but this story goes to show never count your chickens……
dfhax0