The ideals of a peace mission fell apart when human shields from Iraq began to suspect their trip was "sponsored" by the Iraqi government.
Lincolnshire Echo reporter Brendan Montague travelled with local peace campaigner Dave Howarth, and explains how the penny dropped - and real fear set in.

Nobody thought that living in Iraq while it was bombarded was going to be easy.

But few of the human shields I met had given real thought to the fact they may not survive the coming weeks.

What they did not count on - and until the very last hours, refused to believe - was that their whole trip may have been planned by the Iraqi government.

When we crossed the border we were handed leaflets warning that we may be taken hostage by the government.

When our coach left Amman for the border last Monday, the human shields in our delegation were just starting to question the reality of entering Iraq. Some decided at the last minute not to go at all.

All the hotel and food bills were being paid for by the Iraqi Government. Our visas were processed in hours when for everyone else it was taking months, if at all.

Former college lecturer Dave Howarth said he had decided of his own free will to sleep at the South Baghdad Power Station because the electricity was essential for the civilian population.

We jumped in a taxi and within 30 minutes we were standing alone on the roof of the power station with the sound of industrial clatter ringing in our ears.

But even then, in private he told me he may move to a different site. He felt the entire area would be carpet bombed by the Americans - regardless of human shields.

Walking around Baghdad the next day was the strangest experience of my life. Here was a city under the very real threat of attack by Allied bombs.

Dave told me that he felt safer in Baghdad than Lincoln. Despite this, I booked myself on the next available flight out of the country.

Then 36 hours later everything changed.

Doubts about the credibility of Dr Abdul Hashimi's Friendship, Peace and Solidarity organisation which had invited the human shields to Baghdad, began to emerge.

Rumours reached their ears that it was actually the Iraqi Government that was behind their trip and not charity peace campaigners who had acted spontaneously.

They went into a blind panic. Nathan - who looked like he had not slept for days - bought a suit and hired a car, ready to make a break for the border.

He said: "I don't trust these people any more. I don't think we are going to be allowed to do what we want. I was here to meet the children and ordinary Iraqis. I don't want to go to a power plant."

Everyone's fears were flooding to the surface. Everyone wanted to get out.

Human shields were now discussing their anxieties openly. They whispered to each other about their methods of escape.

The next morning I arrived at the hotel lobby ready to leave. I found - for the first time - that the doors had been chained shut.

But the receptionist, who had been standing in the shadows, and who I did not recognise, let me out, padlocking doors behind me.

When I reached the airport my heart was pounding. Liberal bribes greased the wheels of my exit.

At every stage police officers, passport control and even a man who appeared to be the head of security called for "Bashish" - cash.

Once in the air I started to feel relief. An hour later I was sitting on a bed in a hotel in Amman. I was safe. I ordered tea and called the airline to book my flight back to Britain. I arrived back in Lincoln this morning.

None of the human shields who told me they wanted to flee Iraq have telephoned me since I left. I have not yet managed to speak to any of them.

Do you have a story about the regional press? Ring 0116 227 3122/3121, or
e-mail pastill@nep.co.uk