Carlos my captor, an Indonesian remembers

Carlos my captor, an Indonesian remembers

By Barry Dols

JAKARTA (JP): Carlos has finally made it to prime time.

Much of the world got its first glimpse of the seemingly
omnipresent terrorist, whose real name is Ilich Ramirez Sanchez,
last week as he was being whisked into a Parisian courtroom.

Indonesian House of Representatives member H. Adimir Adin,
however, counts among the few who have been confronted by the
reality that is Carlos. He can prove it too. Carlos apparently
doesn't shy away from giving autographs.

It was business as usual as noon approached on Dec. 21, 1975,
at OPEC headquarters in Vienna, Austria. Representing the
Economic Commission Board at the meeting, Adimir recalls that "we
were so absorbed by the discussion that nobody heard the sound of
gunfire outside the conference room."

The arrival of Carlos with four other heavily-armed uninvited
guests quickly brought home the severity of the situation.

Survival instincts took over. "We all dove to the ground and
lay flat on our stomachs using overturned tables as makeshift
shields," Adimir said.

"For a moment my senses took leave of me. My body felt numb
and I could hardly move my head. Minutes later when I calmed down
I thought of my family back home, my wife, children and loved
ones."

At this point Carlos took control. The 42 people in the
conference room and the 30 others brought in from other parts of
the building were searched for weapons and then divided into four
groups.

Adimir remembers, "One by one we were ordered to stand up and
state our nationality. Carlos' self-styled classifications split
us up into OPEC staffers, neutrals (those from Indonesia,
Nigeria, Gabon, Venezuela and Ecuador), friends (Iraq, Algeria,
Libya and Kuwait), and enemies (Iran, Saudi Arabia, Qatar and the
United Arab Emirates)."

Three other Indonesians were among the hostages: Dr. Sanger,
Indra Kartasrasmita and Indraman Akman.

Hostage

The long wait was just beginning for those being held inside
the conference room.

Fortunately for the hostages, the tense problem of opening a
line of communication to the outside world was solved by the
chance arrival of the Iraqi charge d'affaires.

Adimir recalls "the atmosphere gradually becoming more
familiar" as the terrorists negotiated to have their demands made
public.

The inevitable calls to nature, more urgent due to the gravity
of the situation, were permitted by the Carlos group.

Refreshment was harder to come by. The hostages had to take
turns drinking tap water from the only available glass.

Adimir began passing the time by keeping a running diary as
events unfolded.

Carlos, he noted, "began talking incessantly with the
hostages, especially the ones from Venezuela (his native
country)."

"He seemed well educated and spoke in a very charming way,"
smiled Adimir, adding that Carlos conversed fluently in English,
Spanish, French and Arabic.

At one point, Carlos "carelessly put his gun down on a table."
Needless to say, the hostages didn't exactly trip over one
another trying to get at it.

Adimir confessed to feeling "a little bit worried" in the
hours before the commandos' communique was broadcast over
Austrian radio at 6:20 in the evening.

Ham sandwiches

Terrorists and hostages can't live on a diet of water,
cigarettes and fear.

Food was ordered, and arrived in the form of ham sandwiches, a
curious choice for a group of mostly Moslems, who are forbidden
by their faith to eat pork.

The haram sandwiches were piled high on a table beside the
friendlies. Then, according to Adimir, something strange
happened. They quickly vanished.

While not partaking in the food frenzy, "I always try to be a
good Moslem," Adimir laughed as he recalled the mysterious
disappearance of the sandwiches.

Circumstantial evidence points to the Iraqis, Algerians,
Libyans and Kuwaitis since they were being held next to the food.

Adimir, however, refuses to single out anyone. "Sometimes in
Islam there are exceptions," he grins giving nothing away.

Exceptional times indeed.

The hostages, all powerful men in their own right, were not
likely to crack under pressure.

"Each of the ministers began to pass the time in his own way,
according to his mood, frame of mind and expectations," wrote
Adimir.

"Saudi Minister Yamani yawned. The Gabonese minister sat with
his legs stretched out on a chair. The Iranian delegation
remained quiet and disconsolate."

At 10 p.m., the Hilton came to the rescue by sending along the
buffet that had been prepared as the post-meeting banquet.

Adimir recalls "a late-night party of chicken, beef, and lamb,
washed down with liquor and cigarettes."

The gunmen even pitched in with the clean up, he adds.

Signature

By then word had reached the group that the Austrian
government would provide the commandos with a plane the next
morning, as well as bus transport to the airport.

At midnight Carlos visited the Indonesian delegation and
apologized for involving them in what he called "an operation
whose main target was Arab countries who cooperate with the
American capitalists."

Adimir remembers Carlos up close: "By the way he talked it
seemed Carlos was a mature man. He knew of everything
progressive, like the Bandung Conference and the statutes of
OPEC. The man himself was a dandy."

Carlos even gave Adimir his autograph, which remains with him
to this day.

That was how Adimir came to learn the identity of the commando
leader.

Adimir drifted off into a fitful sleep at around 3 a.m.,
finally awakening at 5:50 a.m. to "a room in disarray, with
people lying confusedly on the floor".

When the Mitsubishi bus drew up beside the OPEC building at 7
a.m., Adimir wasn't sure if he would be put on it or be freed in
Vienna.

Luck was with him. The bus was unable to accommodate all the
hostages. But Adimir had to endure some anxious moments aboard
the bus before being asked to leave along with Indra.

As he made his way off the bus, Adimir asked Dr. Sanger if he
could take his place in order to give the latter the chance to
enjoy Christmas with his family.

Carlos would have none of that. "He grabbed me and said 'don't
worry, he will be freed in a few hours,' and ordered me to step
down."

In the event, the hostage drama ended 24 hours later in
Algiers.

For Adimir Adin, 20 hours of mental agony provided him with
his "most memorable experience" and a rare and valuable autograph
to boot.