Richie Mockler Wiki
Richie Mockler Biography
Who is Richie Mockler ?
On Monday, near Kiev, chief correspondent Stuart Ramsay and his team were attacked. Camera operator Richie Mockler was shot twice in his bulletproof vest, Stuart was injured. His experience illustrates the scale of the chaos and violence as the invasion of Russia enters a new and deadlier phase.
As with many wars, the Russian invasion of Ukraine is constantly changing.
Attack areas and tactics are modified, battlefields suddenly appear in previously quiet areas, kinetic places go silent.
It all means that to report on events, you agree from the start that your plans will change.
We set off cautiously towards the town of Bucha, where the day before a Russian convoy had been destroyed by the Ukrainian army. Trusted contacts in the town told us that he was calm and promised to show us around the convoy and tell us what had happened.
Even as we left the center of Kiev through a city that is now being fortified with additional soldiers, passing highways and main roads where volunteers were digging trenches and the army was placing howitzer cannons for the defense of the capital, it was clear that our journey it was going to be difficult. .
Constant checkpoints must be negotiated carefully. The tension is palpable, the fighters are on edge, and it’s all exacerbated by the constant distant sounds of machine gun fire and the thunder of artillery and mortars.
The city is only 30 kilometers from the center of Kiev, but our journey took hours. Roads were closed and we were redirected countless times.
On our way, in the distance, we could see Russian helicopter gunships cruising through the air, noses bent to the ground as they opened fire.
From being a quiet place, this entire part of the field, including our intended destination, had turned into a battlefield.
Pointing guns at our car, the last Ukrainian checkpoint suggested that we should go no further. We chose to call it a day and head back to the city center. We had tried to inform, but it was getting too difficult.
But that’s what happens, that’s how it is.
The paths we had taken now were unsafe. Well, worse than that, actually: they were instantly new front lines.
So we decided to cut to the western part of the city and re-enter from a different direction.
We stopped at a checkpoint and talked to soldiers and police, asking if the road to Kyiv was passable.
A police officer walked up to the car and handed us ice creams through the window, telling us we could turn left and go down the road to Kiev; he said it was open.
We got going, but there was dead silence, and it’s fair to say we were worried. But we are slowly moving towards an intersection. There was debris on the road, but that’s normal now. There were no soldiers, everything seemed deserted.
And then out of nowhere a little explosion and I saw something hit the car and blew out a tire. We roll to a stop.
And then our world turned upside down.
The first round broke the windshield. Cameraman Richie Mockler huddled in the front passenger footwell. So we were under full attack.
Bullets cascaded throughout the car, tracers, bullet flash, windshield glass, plastic seats, the steering wheel and dashboard had all disintegrated.
Richie was yelling at me, but I really can’t remember much.
I remember wondering if my death was going to be painful.
And then I got hit in the lower back. “I’ve been hit!” I yelled.
But what amazed me was that it didn’t hurt that much. It was more like getting punched, actually.
It was strange, but I felt very calm. I managed to put my helmet on and was about to try to escape, when I stopped and reached into a shelf by the door and retrieved my phones and press card, unbelievably.
Richie says I then got out of the car and stood up, before jogging to the edge of the embankment and then running. I lost my balance and fell to the bottom, landing like a sack of potatoes, cutting my face. My armor and helmet almost certainly saved me.
But Richie was still inside the car. Bullets stabbed into the car every time it moved. He was actually being protected by the engine block, he knew.
He called and we yelled at him to come. But then silence. It seemed like forever before he emerged over the barrier and leaped at us, followed by a hail of gunfire.
At the bottom, we regroup. The five of us were alive. We couldn’t believe it.
We were in shock, no doubt about it. But elated to be alive. Martin told me, it’s a miracle any of us got out, let alone all five of us.