|
It’s day eight of the Iraq war. Christian Archer, manager
of BBC’s News Traffic unit wearily welcomes me. It’s
been a long week for the team. “You can’t just go
home when something like this happens,” he comments.
Christian is thankful today is quieter. “If it had gone
on like the past few days, I don’t know how we would have
managed. A lot of thought has gone into the logistics of covering
the war, but the sheer volume of news coming in from Iraq has
stretched us to the limit.”
Christian hands me a pair of headphones and shows me how to listen
into the 10 audio channels that feed into Traffic. All the calls,
bar one, are from the war zones. It is a surreal experience. On
one call, I could hear the thud of gunfire in the background -
the journalist glibly referring to it to a studio manager before
he files his report.
On another call, a correspondent is “selling” a story
to an editor on the 10 O’clock news. He’s just come
back from an unpleasant street scene where Iraqis pulled guns
on them. He and his colleagues aren’t shot because the Iraqis
would rather their stories were told on British news.
I was unnerved hearing him, knowing the dangers he was facing.
Later, I heard this story go out on the news — delivered
with impeccable professionalism. But, the impact of his call has
stayed with me. It is stomach-churning.
So it goes on; a relentless stream of mobile and satellite phone
calls from different parts of the conflict. It is beginning to
take its toll. “This war is a very depressing story. And,
to be honest, it’s not much fun coming to work at the moment.”
Christian admits. “We have to listen to what’s happening
hour after hour. The constant grind of it can really get you down.”
You would never know. From what I witness, there’s a strong
sense of camaraderie amongst the team. One, in fact, is playing
what looks like lotto on their computer in between calls. But,
as soon as the light flashes on the computer system, her response
is immediate. The soothing calm of her voice must be music to
the journalist’s ear.
For years, Traffic, tucked away in the basement of the BBC’s
Television Centre in West London, two floors below the main newsroom,
has been working at the front line of BBC newsgathering. And,
due to the size of the news operation, Traffic is unique to the
BBC. The quantity of news material generated for the Corporation’s
local, domestic and international television and radio —
in English and in more than 40 other languages at the World Service
— is immense.
The primary role of Traffic is to field a correspondent’s
call, and then guide him or her, to the right news studio, at
the right time, and in the right order of priority, and then record
their latest despatch. This can be a taxing experience, especially
when stories are breaking, and there is ferocious competition
to meet deadlines from numerous news programmes.
But an equally important role is how the familiar voice of Traffic
can be a life-saver to those reporting from difficult assignments.
“It was just so comforting to have that human voice on the
end of the phone; somebody with real care and concern for your
well-being, and that I wasn’t just dispensable,” commented
a journalist who was filing from the middle of an earthquake zone.
“Of course, you do feel affected because this is front
line stuff,” explains Anne, who has been with Traffic for
over 20 years.
“You are aware that you’re not just listening to
something that’s coming in from somewhere; you’re
talking to the person who’s actually there. It can make
you feel nervous for them. The important thing is to be a reassuring
voice for them, and to check out if they are in danger or not.
I ask them if they want to file, or if they want to get themselves
to a safe place first.”
Traditionally, correspondents are grateful to Traffic for what
they do for them. Many drop in for a drink or bring boxes of chocolates
when they’re passing through London.
Christian believes it takes a certain kind of person to be able
to do this kind of job efficiently, while maintaining an air of
dignity. “A Traffic person can’t be put off if they
get a call from an agitated editor saying, ‘We want this
now!’ They have to remain cool. As for the technology, I
can teach it to someone in weeks. It’s just pushing buttons
really. But, it’s about the person, how they can handle
it that matters.”
“At the end of the day, what programmes want to know is
that their correspondent came through on time. But then, we’re
not here to be patted on the back,” smiles Christian. “We’re
here to do a job.”
|
