At 1.30pm relatives of the hostages and journalists had got close to the Palace of Culture. None of us know, that at approximately 13;00 hours, officials in the Ministry of Emergencies – in agreement with the hostage takers, had entered the school grounds in order to retrieve the corpses. On the first day the hostage takers had shot all the captured men and thrown their bodies out of the windows. When the Emergency Ministry people entered school land, they suddenly heard gunfire coming from behind them- directed at the school. Seconds later- an explosion was heard coming from the gymnasium. And then another explosion. One of the gymnasium walls collapsed and children fled. Then, apparently, the terrorists began shooting in the direction of the children. Local policemen- for some reason all dressed in civilian gear- returned fire. The special forces fired the first shots, signalling the beginning of the assault on the school. The explosions were loud. The glass in the windows of the Palace of Culture shook. A very different sound from the sniper fire and grenades to which we had become accustomed over the past 2 days. After the explosions- an exchange of fire and the OMON forces started ushering people towards cover. Behind the cordon- special forces were moving about- used to these situations as events developed- and far enough away from the school. The gunfight didn’t die down. A long way from HQ one could see ambulances moving and people running shouting: there are children running! People pushed closer to the cordons and the OMON troops pushed them back. Suddenly a man burst through the doors of the Palace of Culture- in his arms- a boy, almost naked and covered in blood. One of the older girls followed him- barefoot, staggering, in a black skirt and white shirt, this latter now half drenched with blood- dried blood matted in her hair. She was crying and repeated again and again: Why are they shooting at us?
A sudden clarity- some of the children managed to escape. Everyone near the Palace of Culture pushed through the lines in an attempt to get as close as they could to the school. Everyone started to carry children out but they had to break through police lines to do so. Then another trickle of information filtered through- 100-120 kids had escaped and were running down Lermontov Street. Everyone headed that way, but there was a cordon of soldiers from the 58th army company. People ducked into the courtyard of the nearest block of flats and climbed over the back wall, where were they? The HQ itself- not far from the school. A slogan hung from the wall of the college: 1st September- day of Knowledge…Soldiers rushed in and out- for a drink of water and more ammunition. The sound of every explosion bought more and more weeping from the women, some becoming hysterical. Everyone was trying to find out whether the Gym was still standing. The soldiers were silent. From time to time troops ran past us carrying de-fused mines. The doctors busied themselves with setting up he field hospital. The men cursed the authorities, the soldiers, Dzasokhov and offered their help there and then. They were needed later- when the time came for stretchers. There were calls for clean linen, there was not enough material to cover them (the naked bodies of children- dead and alive) with.
There were only momentary lulls in the gunfire. RPGs sounded constantly. People gathered in crowds round the courtyard- on the other side of which was the gymnasium. The Emergency Ministry people convinced the crowds to be patient, to wait, that their help would be needed when the time came and the hostages were released…Nonetheless groups of people broke through official cordons and entered the school grounds. Rumour swept the crowds- the gym had been blown up and was on fire, few had been saved… People threw themselves at the Emergency Ministry officials who called the soldiers for backup. Some one cried: call the fire brigade! On the second floor there are kids locked in a room that’s burning! They are calling for help and waving a white vest out of the window! The fire engine came, but when it finally arrived they discovered it had no water, and by the time they found water- it was too late.
Children began to be carried out- battered and bleeding, but alive. People put them in whichever car was nearest and they were driven to hospitals. Not in ambulances. Private cars. For 20 minutes a constant stream of children being carried out. Then more cars. Not carrying children but- eyewitnesses say- black bags. Body bags glimpsed through the window of the vehicles that moved through the throng.
The soldiers tried to calm people down. Smiling and polite they said: its dangerous here- you could get shot. Members of the Emergency Ministry pushed their way down the road- the crowd scattered before their armoured cars and troops. The road was closed. Gunfire could be heard from the school in a different direction. There was an announcement: the assault was over, most of the hostage takers had left the school and slipped through the cordons. Everyone tried to get to the school and when they were told they were not allowed – they got angry. They were told- everyone has already been evacuated from the site so go look for your kids in the hospitals. There was no answer to the question- how many dead? Those closest to the edge of the cordon were poked in the back by the soldiers, dragged away by the arms, carried away. One woman cried out You have killed my child and now you
want me to be quiet? Others followed her example and an angry chorus of accusations against the military rose among the crowds.
A sudden clarity- some of the children managed to escape. Everyone near the Palace of Culture pushed through the lines in an attempt to get as close as they could to the school. Everyone started to carry children out but they had to break through police lines to do so. Then another trickle of information filtered through- 100-120 kids had escaped and were running down Lermontov Street. Everyone headed that way, but there was a cordon of soldiers from the 58th army company. People ducked into the courtyard of the nearest block of flats and climbed over the back wall, where were they? The HQ itself- not far from the school. A slogan hung from the wall of the college: 1st September- day of Knowledge…Soldiers rushed in and out- for a drink of water and more ammunition. The sound of every explosion bought more and more weeping from the women, some becoming hysterical. Everyone was trying to find out whether the Gym was still standing. The soldiers were silent. From time to time troops ran past us carrying de-fused mines. The doctors busied themselves with setting up he field hospital. The men cursed the authorities, the soldiers, Dzasokhov and offered their help there and then. They were needed later- when the time came for stretchers. There were calls for clean linen, there was not enough material to cover them (the naked bodies of children- dead and alive) with.
There were only momentary lulls in the gunfire. RPGs sounded constantly. People gathered in crowds round the courtyard- on the other side of which was the gymnasium. The Emergency Ministry people convinced the crowds to be patient, to wait, that their help would be needed when the time came and the hostages were released…Nonetheless groups of people broke through official cordons and entered the school grounds. Rumour swept the crowds- the gym had been blown up and was on fire, few had been saved… People threw themselves at the Emergency Ministry officials who called the soldiers for backup. Some one cried: call the fire brigade! On the second floor there are kids locked in a room that’s burning! They are calling for help and waving a white vest out of the window! The fire engine came, but when it finally arrived they discovered it had no water, and by the time they found water- it was too late.
Children began to be carried out- battered and bleeding, but alive. People put them in whichever car was nearest and they were driven to hospitals. Not in ambulances. Private cars. For 20 minutes a constant stream of children being carried out. Then more cars. Not carrying children but- eyewitnesses say- black bags. Body bags glimpsed through the window of the vehicles that moved through the throng.
The soldiers tried to calm people down. Smiling and polite they said: its dangerous here- you could get shot. Members of the Emergency Ministry pushed their way down the road- the crowd scattered before their armoured cars and troops. The road was closed. Gunfire could be heard from the school in a different direction. There was an announcement: the assault was over, most of the hostage takers had left the school and slipped through the cordons. Everyone tried to get to the school and when they were told they were not allowed – they got angry. They were told- everyone has already been evacuated from the site so go look for your kids in the hospitals. There was no answer to the question- how many dead? Those closest to the edge of the cordon were poked in the back by the soldiers, dragged away by the arms, carried away. One woman cried out You have killed my child and now you
want me to be quiet? Others followed her example and an angry chorus of accusations against the military rose among the crowds.
