Bataclan 3 years on: In our own words
by Tony Scott and Justine Merton-Scott My now wife, Justine, and I were among the British survivors lucky enough to escape the horror of the Bataclan as it was attacked by terrorists on November 13th, 2015. As the anniversary approaches, it’s not uncommon for some of us to be contacted by the media and we were approached recently to be interviewed for a piece about the 3rd anniversary of the Bataclan attack. We were reticent, to say the least, but felt it was important that it doesn’t slip from the public consciousness. It provided an opportunity to gain some exposure for The Nick Alexander Memorial Trust and the Tim Parry Johnathan Ball Peace Foundation’s #WordsMatter campaign, both of which are very relevant in the aftermath of the Paris, London and Manchester attacks. As with such pieces it falls on the journalist and the editor to determine the angle, what gets used and what gets cut to feed the author’s narrative within the column inches allocated. That’s how journalism works and we don’t have that much control over it; it is a free press after all. However, I felt, having read the draft, I wanted to pick up the pieces from the cutting room floor and write something from the horse’s mouth, as it were, and here it is… Revisiting that night I’ll start by revisiting that night, it still feels as clear as day. We’d gone to Paris as my birthday treat. Justine had booked it and bought the tickets to see the Eagles of Death Metal. My choice, not hers, as she likes to point out. It was to be a romantic weekend getaway with a gig at Le Bataclan and a bit of sight-seeing, a few glasses of wine and soaking up the ambience of Paris. Sounds perfect. We flew into Paris that morning and had time to do a little sightseeing before heading to the gig in the evening. We’d called at a bar not far from the venue for a couple of drinks before heading to the gig at Le Bataclan. On entry it was rammed, near on full capacity. We’d normally try and get down the front but it was way too busy. Justine’s a shade under five foot so we headed up to the balcony for a better view. A decision, with hindsight, that probably helped save our lives. What happened next is well documented so I’m going to gloss over it a bit. At around 9:45pm terrorists had entered the Bataclan and started shooting. We got caught in what is often referred to as a freeze, fight, flight instinct as the amygdala kicks in, dropping to the floor and taking cover behind the seats. Moments later we went from freeze to flight on Justine’s instinct. We crawled our way behind the seats through a door at the end of the balcony and then up through a skylight and onto the roof. It was a difficult reach, particularly for Justine. People were lifting each other...