French TV reporter Gilles Jacquier was killed in a mortar attack in the Syrian town of Homs on Wednesday. Together with 15 other journalists, Jacquier was visiting the centre of resistance against Syrian President Bashar al-Assad. Besides the Frenchman, seven other people lost their lives in the attack. Jacquier is the first Western journalist to be killed during the Syrian revolution.

“Forty-four years old? Congratulations. And you still haven’t been shot dead?” I thought this comment from Dutch TV presenter Tijs van den Brink in honour of my birthday on 11 January was funny enough to post on Twitter. But sadly, just hours later, a war correspondent was actually killed: the French camera journalist Gilles Jacquier, who worked for France 2. He died in a mortar attack in the Syrian town of Homs.

Almost killed
Gilles was an old acquaintance. In fact, I was with him when he was almost killed in April 2002. We were driving in an armoured vehicle belonging to France 2 through the Palestinian town of Nablus, on the West Bank. Heavy fighting was going on between Palestinian militants and the Israeli army.

We stopped at a Palestinian refugee camp and Gilles, who was sitting in the front passenger seat, got out first. Immediately we heard a shot and Gilles fell to the ground. I wanted to get out of the car to help him, but the other Frenchmen stopped me, probably saving my life.

There were more shots and Gilles crawled to the back of the car. About 50 metres behind us there was an armoured car belonging to CNN, carrying reporter Ben Wedeman. He also had his own security guard: a muscled former soldier. He crawled up to Gilles and pulled him into the car. We stayed there in the line of fire and then tore after the CNN crew to the hospital in Nablus.

Mental recovery
There it turned out that Gilles had been hit through his bulletproof vest, just above the extra protection plate. The bullet had entered his body, but miraculously it had missed all of his vital organs. All this time, Gilles had remained conscious and just before he was wheeled into the operating theatre, I asked him some questions, holding my radio microphone close to his sighing mouth.

In a reflex I had switched on my recorder directly after the first shot. I didn’t think this was taking my work too far. Gilles would have done the same if he had been in my shoes.

Our paths did not cross again until much later, amid unrest in Haiti. He told me his physical recovery had been quite quick, but he had been unable to work for nearly six months. Something had happened, temporarily, to his mind. “After all, I did almost die.”

Never 44
And now, ten years later, he really is dead. I didn’t turn on the TV yesterday evening. I didn’t feel like seeing Gilles lying there again. I’m sure there is footage of him in his final moments, no doubt recorded in a reflex by a colleague.

It reminded me how calmly Gilles’ mother reacted when she was told her son had been shot. I walked into the bedroom where my one-year-old son was sleeping and I thought of the one-year-old twins Gilles has left behind. They won’t be able to remember their father: Gilles Jacquier, who will never turn 44 because he was killed by a mortar shell at the age of 43.

(hs/dd)