Monday was a quiet day along Israel's border with Lebanon. Instead of more than 100 Katyushas hitting the area, only a handful did.
But it was my first day here and I was still adjusting to the loud sound of artillery going off around us. So one rocket, two rockets, three rockets. It felt crazy enough for me. But all in all, by Monday night, I thought, "Not bad, I can handle this."
However, that peace of mind would not last long.
Tuesday around 2:30 a.m. local time, cameraman Neil, driver Elias and I left our hotel to start prepping for the show at our live location about 20 minutes away. We were about halfway there when a rocket or perhaps a mortar hit up ahead. That was followed by a second one, which landed even closer.
It took a second for us to all realize what actually was happening. I believe I even asked, "Is that incoming our outgoing?" The fireworks-like effect should have made it obvious enough.
Elias pulled the van over to the side and we debated for a second whether to drive forward or stay put. Then Neil pointed out that incoming fire often come in packs and that we were a sitting duck by staying parked to the side. I am not sure if it helps to stay still, drive your way through or turn around. All I knew was I wanted to get the hell out of there.
As we moved forward and around the bend, we found ourselves right next to the site of the explosions. There was a lot of smoke and the smell burned my nose. A piece of casing was sitting on the road. Neil managed to crack a joke about getting out of the car to shoot some b-roll. But I couldn't muster a smile. I was too busy trying to get my flak jacket and helmet on.
We made it to our show location safely and the show itself went smoothly. But I have to admit, I was spooked. I spent much of today wearing my flak jacket ... even in our hotel ... opening myself up to some friendly ribbing at the hands of my colleagues.
Here's hoping tonight is a little less eventful.
