IF YOU ARE TAKEN HOSTAGE

Fortunately, neither Gacad nor Soho has ever been taken captive while on a dangerous assignment. Terry Anderson, the former Beirut AP bureau chief who spent nearly seven years as a hostage, tells news organizations: "They should never agree to pay ransom for a journalist, no matter what the circumstances."

But Soho says that's easier said than done. When journalists are held in captivity, she believes they want to get out of the situation as soon as possible, even if it means paying.

Centurion advises against fighting captors or trying to escape from a hostage situation. Be unnoticeable or "the grey man," it says. Centurion also advises women not to try to fight off rapists. "You may lose your dignity, but you stay alive," it says repeatedly in its training.

OTHER USEFUL TIPS
When you miscalculate, don't panic. When panic strikes, disaster follows, says Gacad. Journalists who, say, get lost should keep calm and alert and slowly retrace their steps, he advises.

Be wary of all your sources. Some sources, even those that have proved reliable in the past, could lead journalists into a trap by dangling a chance at an exclusive. That is basically what happened to some journalists covering the Abu Sayyaf in Basilan and Sulu, notes Gacad. In the rush of trying to get the story, journalists let down their guard.

Soho says GMA has learned from reporter Susan Enriquez's unpleasant brush with the Abu Sayyaf in 2000. The Abu Sayyaf had refused to let Enriquez leave when she covered the negotiations between the bandits and actor Robin Padilla and broadcast journalist-turned-senator Noli de Castro; a member wanted to make her his wife. In the end the Abu Sayyaf was prevailed upon to release Enriquez, who is married with kids. Today, GMA carefully reviews invitations to interview the Abu Sayyaf. An unwritten rule is not to send women reporters to cover the group.

Soho says arranged interviews by a big group is often favored over a solo interview. But it really depends on who the journalist is going to talk to, she adds.

Don't give in easily to demands. The Abu Sayyaf, for example, is known to ask for shoes and watches. Gacad says journalists should try to stand their ground as much as they can. Once journalists buckle under, the groups start demanding for more. Yet the obviously wise thing to do when a demand is made at gunpoint is to just hand over what they want.

Know where to draw the line. Journalists should not go beyond journalism like offering themselves as go-between of the opposing forces. That's inviting trouble, says Gacad. He adds that journalists should avoid cutting deals-offering money or agreeing to turn over pictures or videos- in exchange for access, he says. If they do, better honor it.

Play out possible scenarios. Gacad and his French colleague had been fired on when they tried to get to the Tora Bora caves that had been taken over by the mujahideens and U.S. special forces and declared off-limits. But this didn't stop them from trying again the day after. This time, they were prepared to get caught. The worst scenario, they told each other, was that their equipment would be confiscated and they would be taken some place but wouldn't be killed. They rehearsed their alibi: they were on holiday and wanted to visit the caves.

They hiked up a dirt road and down to a river. They ignored the U.S. Special Forces at a checkpoint, who apparently were too surprised to see them and did nothing. They then met the first mujahideen guard who, after some convincing, took them to the first cave, an ammunition storage, and the second cave. The two journalists ran into trouble at the second cave with another mujahideen guard, but they were ready to deal with the situation.

Trust your instinct. Journalists who have covered conflicts somehow learn to sense danger. Gacad was with a group of journalists in Basilan tailing a military convoy deployed to intercept an Abu Sayyaf band when their vehicle got stuck in mud a kilometer off the main road. He examined the terrain and began to feel uneasy. He asked his fellow journalists to turn back. The following morning, they learned that the Abu Sayyaf ambushed the convoy and killed 12 soldiers. Of the 12, three were beheaded.

AT THE very least, the days of sending journalists to cover conflict for two to three years, as newsrooms did during the Vietnam War, are long over. To avoid war shock, news organizations like the AFP pull out journalists who have spent two to three months at the frontline.
Gacad spent almost two months covering Desert Storm, including the liberation of Kuwait, and 20 days in Afghanistan. But like many journalists exposed to violence, he is haunted from time to time by the gruesome images he has witnessed and caught on camera. He suffers from what he acknowledges as emotional fatigue. "I start to feel I'm not a normal person," says Gacad. "From all this exposure to conflict, I feel I have become desensitized to violence: everything is cheap; you can get easily killed." He carries emotional baggage as well, brought about by having been with soldiers and other people whom he discovers are later killed.

In the fast-paced world of television, Soho says there is no time for journalists to even recognize the symptoms of the stress that may arise from their exposure to conflict. Yet sometimes, she is bothered by a "been there, done that" feeling she gets. Soho acknowledges the danger of journalists becoming jaded and casual about lives that are lost to violence. In the absence of professional help, Soho processes her feelings on her own. She demands of herself the following: Treat each story as special. Portray victims of violence as humans. Put emotions into the story. Make sure each story has impact. Says Soho: "You can't be nonchalant."