Diary of a human shield
February 9, 2003Sunday, January 26: Paris
Ken O'Keefe, the founder of the Human Shields movement, decides to split the convoy to maximise publicity. He takes his black bus, packed with the younger and more robust shields, via Amsterdam and Germany (with a stop at Dachau concentration camp). Joe Letts, whose two red vintage double-deckers are his pride and joy, takes an alternative route through France and over the Italian border.Wednesday, January 29: St Remo
Despite the lumbering pace of the 1967 Routemasters, most of the group has already developed an attachment to the tall, proud vehicles. In their prime the buses reached speeds of 70mph as they shuttled from Heathrow to London. Today, they manage a respectable 55mph.Inside the buses, stuffed with rucksacks, sleeping bags and the debris of snacks, everyone tries to carry on as normal despite the cold, cramped conditions. Some sleep in their seats while others play cards and write journals. Godfrey Meynell, the oldest of the group whose ages span 18 to 68, reads a faded copy of Plato And His Dialogues by G Lowes Dickinson.
Thursday, January 30: Milan
The London buses look incongruous as they converge in the centre of Milan bearing their destination plates, London to Baghdad. As the folding doors open, the assortment of weary-looking characters - the young in fashionable combat trousers, fleeces and trainers, the older in waterproofs and sturdy boots - pour into the piazza outside the Castello Sforzesco. Although reunited, the inevitable problems of ferrying 75 shields from 10 different countries are showing. The most pressing decision is the route.O'Keefe is keen to continue through the Balkans. Letts is reluctant, citing the pot-holed roads and dicey security situations. "I am not sure how three buses plastered with anti-war slogans regarding Iraq will be greeted," he observes. A meeting is convened: maps are unfurled, coffee is fetched and arguments are marshalled. Minutes later, O'Keefe and Letts emerge wreathed in smiles. Peace, thankfully, has been restored to the peace buses.
Monday, February 3: Rome
There is no doubt that the two leading characters compliment each other. While O'Keefe, a heavily tattooed Gulf War veteran, has the aggressive passion that lends itself to rabble-rousing, Letts, a 52-year-old former television camera man, has a softer, more pragmatic approach.Unfortunately, the convoy is forced to split again. O'Keefe's vehicle splutters its last by a Greyhound station on the outskirts of Rome. He stays behind with a small group that includes his mother Pat, Rajia Dajani, a pretty and bubbly 22-year-old from London, and Katerina Soederholm, a 29-year-old Norwegian, the most glamorous of the group.
Tuesday, February 4: Naples, Bari and on to Greece via ferry
Two Brazilians, whose democratic zeal jars with the occasionally militaristic leadership style of O'Keefe, a young Briton and an American student film-maker who have run out of money, decide that it is time to head off home.Spirits are temporarily dampened. Emotional farewells are said in the Naples youth hostel car park and tears are shed. "When we asked for a democratic vote Ken said that we were either with him or against him," says Flavio Ravara, swinging his rucksack on to his back. "To me, that is the language of George Bush."
More bad news arrives from the black bus in Rome: two 18-year-olds have also left. Letts, however, is not deterred: "With a group like this, where background, experience and agenda are so vastly different, I would have been surprised if we hadn't suffered hiccups."
Wednesday, February 5: Thessalonica, Greece
With Mount Olympus as a backdrop, Godfrey Meynell is delivering a speech to a cameraman. In his wind-cheater, walking boots and olive corduroys, he might as easily be preparing for a hike across the English countryside as for a mission to save lives in a war zone."I saw action in Aden between 1959 and 1966 so I can't claim to be a complete pacifist," he tells them. But he adds that he had also been involved in peace efforts. "While at Cambridge in 1956, I went off to aid the Hungarian Rebellion in a van packed with corned beef. Unfortunately the border was closed when we got there."
Mr Meynell, who served in the colonial office and was later High Sheriff of Derbyshire, keeps spirits high on the buses by reciting poetry, singing in Latin and recounting tales of life at Eton. "You know I am a monarchist, he says happily. "Left-wing language doesn't come easily to me. Scratch me and you'll find a confused Tory squire underneath.
"I suppose I am kicking against my roots, but it is very important to me to be with the Iraqi civilians in their time of fear and danger. My presence will no doubt make very little difference, but if it offers comfort, even in the smallest amount, then it will have been worth it."
Thursday, February 6: Kesan, Turkey
As the convoy crosses the Turkish border, we are met with a frenzied reception: reporters, photographers and television cameramen swarm over the buses.Sue Darling, a 60-year-old former diplomat from Surrey, quickly adapts her skills to present an articulate argument for the campaign to the waiting press. Later, dressed in the red jacket that she usually wears for mucking out her stables, she warmly thanks Mustafa Urek, the mayor of Kesan, as he presents her with a bouquet and delivers a long supportive speech in Turkish.
News arrives that a further 50 shields are to join the campaign in Istanbul. Morale is visibly lifted.
Fri and Sat, February 7 and 8: Istanbul
After a rollercoaster two weeks, the mission suffers a further setback. O'Keefe, who had burned his passport in a symbolic bid to revoke his citizenship, is refused entry to Turkey on the grounds that his "World Citizen" documents are not recognised.It is decided that the campaign should press ahead to Syria and Iraq regardless, in the hope that our leader might still join us en route.
Sometimes the journey has been uncomfortable - on the crossing from Italy, when the ferry creaked menacingly against the rough sea; along the precarious mountains roads of Greece; through the driving snow in northern Turkey - but the Human Shields movement has achieved a milestone.
A more sombre mood, however, is now palpable. In one week we will be at our final destination: Baghdad.
These people are barmy.
Regards, Ivan
It's SAD, really... what FOOLS! Like the liberals on the Capitol Records building in Independence Day with their signs who were the first to get vaporized.
It's SAD, really... what FOOLS!