Another witness report, Håkon Sandbakken (22). Translated with Google.
"I am writing this mostly because I do not want to explain what happened many times. Secondly, I wish that people who were not on Utøya, to understand what we went through. The fear we felt, is not adequately reflected by today's media image. I feel good physically. How my mental state is, will prove in the next few weeks. Until now there has been so unreal, but when the names of dead attentive public, the victims get a face. I know probably more of the victims. I'm not sure if the following events is chronological, but essentially this should be correct:
I was scheduled to Utøya from Friday to Sunday. I can not exactly say I enjoyed myself. It was reported 70 mm of rain and I considered to be at home, but guilty to a county that had already paid my ticket, did that I went anyway. I took 151 to Oksenøyveien and then switch to a bus that went directly to Utøya. 171 bus was late, so I had to wait three minutes. Time was displaced with a newly purchased audiobook, the first CD of Foold by Randomness, where, as far as I understand, the author argues that much more than what people think, really is random. Humans have a tendency to see connections where connections do not really exist.
While waiting for the bus, I heard something I thought was thunder, which in retrospect turned out to be bombs around the government building. It marked the beginning.
Eventually the bus. Only towards the end of the bus trip I took the earplugs out and heard about the bomb attacks on the radio. I remember I thought it was terrible and my first thought was that Jens Stoltenberg was not going to get to Utøya day. Then I started making calls and sending messages to friends who I knew were in Oslo. It turned out quickly that the nearest was in good condition, and I could breathe a sigh of relief. Out the window I saw a gang of youths on the other side of the road waving to the bus in the oncoming driving direction. Immediately after we came back and the driver asked me to go to speak to youth gang that the bus that drove by was a direct bus, and that's why it stopped. He put a timetable in hand on me, and I promised to do as he said.
Youth gang was around 10 pieces and was from Oslo, my own county. That said, there were only two people I recognized. They explained that they were sick, wet and cold and that they wanted to go home. They said I had to say sorry that they went to the NN, which was the delegation leader. I promised on my part to convey the apologies. I picked up your luggage and went down to the ferry area to get registered as a participant, get my luggage through the session and to wait for the ferry. At the ferry site was a car with open squares and news on full blast. While the registration took place, there was obviously some discussion about what had happened in Oslo. I remember I wrote off Al-Qaeda because of the nature of violence. The terror was non-random. They hit power. As far as I had with me was Al Qaeda's terrorist acts mainly directed against the civilian population. The man from the Norwegian People should routinely check the contents of the bag for alcohol, drugs and weapons. As usual during such examination, he had a light tone in which he performed the same point he had performed for all the other 700 camp participants. "Well, I'll just check if you have a sawn-off shotguns or rifles ... etc". As I stood there, came more and more people were going to the island. The terror of Oslo was an obvious issue. Suddenly a white oblong, van-like vehicle into space. A man in police unni form went out and explained that he would conduct routine surveys on the island because of what had happened in Oslo.
I do not know how I can say this without coming as fiction my brain has spun in the aftermath of the drama. But I remember I responded that the man came in sivilbil, and I'm 100% sure that I joke said to one of the men from the Norwegian People's Aid that we should check his credentials and did a joke about the man really was not the police. All based on the civilian vehicle.
We went on the ferry together. The boat was YY, Popeye, XX, two others I do not know the name of, "police officer" and a woman in their 30s (which I later found out was 40-years). She was in discussion with the police officer, apparently they discussed also what had happened in Oslo. The policeman did not directly irritated, but I could see the corner of his eye he did not like him. It was not until the ferry trip I saw two times in a police officer. What I remember was that he had not short-dark hair, was about my height, white and spoke Norwegian. When it comes to equipment, I have rarely been more impressed. He was wearing a wet or dry suit, the police noticed the clip on the side of the arm. He had sharp loaded handguns and a bigger gun. ID card of his hanging by a thread around the neck, while the other equipment he needed for a "routine check" was behind a steel-colored trolley or suitcase.
My two fellow conspirator in Bærum AUF stood ready at the pier to greet me. Entire Utøya-mood was depressed because of the tragedy of Oslo. We walk slowly up to the kiosk area. After a few friendly words, we separate teams and I talk briefly with a 3-4 others I have not seen in a while. Suddenly heard several loud bangs down from the water. Few people make much numbers out of it, until we hear the seconds of screaming, crying and boots to single. Some managers screaming "All together! IN! IN, IN, IN! ". I'm skeptical, but follow quietly into, and I said loudly, to anyone who is interested to hear, it's just to relax. This was just a form of mass hysteria as the result of a tense day's news from Oslo. Once inside the dining hall loading off my luggage and the ridiculous colorful rain poncho my brother used to scouts 20 years ago. It sounds new bang and we were soon ordered the "OUT! OUT! ". Everyone in the dining hall ran through the building towards the end at the opposite end. Bottleneck at the end of the building means that everything goes slower. I think still not entirely sure it's something serious going on, but others fear has a tendency to infection. Because it was stopped in the doorway, I went into the toilet area. It was 4-5 toilets in a row with close doors. I went into a stall and locked. Changed my mind two seconds later, opened the door, looked out into the hallway. There was trouble. I changed my mind again, but invited all in before I locked. I looked around me. Among those I had invited in, were two pieces I knew from before. A very sweet and nice Akershus girl and a kjernekar from another county. The last was a lady from Uganda. I explained to her what was happening in English. "It's mass hysteria, its Probably nothing, just relax." She nodded, grateful, the next second sounded flat metallic loud bangs from the other end of the time, reinforced by the fact that the sound was thrown against the walls against us. A horrified look was all we had time, before several shots were heard. The other three sat down quickly. I stood alongside the door. I put a finger over his mouth as a signal for everyone to be quiet. There was silence for a few seconds before a pair of high plaintive moan sounded right outside the door. It was impossible to hear who it was from breathing and panting, but it was a boy, and that he was hit, no doubt. Groans lasted only a few seconds before being replaced by a sharp bang. Everything was very still. The only thing I felt was my legs which trembled under me. The lady from Uganda was on the floor and quickly grabbed hold of my boot as if she meant that the tremor could be heard fully.
We were silent for a few minutes, we heard several loud bangs outside. We knew nothing about how many perpetrators were involved, or whether he was the split was in the building, but there were bangs from outside that made us wake up. I gave the signal for everyone to turn off their phones. It made all but one of us, as non-verbally convinced me that it was silent, and that it might be useful. We lay and stood perfectly still in the same position for an hour. A horrified hour. The pulse went and adrenaline flowing through your body. Thoughts flew through my head until I came to a fixed reference point. "If I die now, so I die happy." The thought made my pulse down, and I was with a much clearer head. All sounds were amplified, and I took off my watch and put it in my pocket because I think it ticked so loud. The shots sounded still, but distant. Until Handed dare we not do anything except to be silent. Dobåsen, which might be 3.2 square meters, became very hot. Finally, did the fact that I was an advantage. I buttoned up as silently as possible off my shirt and was grateful that I was not in the clothes of the (...). He was wearing a full jacket and several layers of clothing. The heat seemed unbearable. This was and we were in maybe half an hour, an hour. Now and then we exchanged a glance. Occasionally reported (...) whisper from the press and we translated as best we could to Ugandans. Sometimes, there came a sound from outside who got everyone to shrink. All the time calling different mobile phones in the great hall, either because people had forgotten them, charged or let them or because they belonged to them were no longer able to speak. In addition to the high, flat, metallic bangs, the ring tones from the different mobile phones is most clearly again. Every minute there was a new phone that rang. Each ring represented new families. None came through.
Finally we came to a point where it was unbearable to sit and stand in the same position. The heat in the room was intense and oksigennivået was noticeably lower. It did not help either that the hyperventilation and then took over for normal breathing. After a hushed discussion, we agreed that we had so carefully and quietly as possible, try to change position. Every sound was our own ears amplified ten times, and we sent each other horrified glances every time one of us made an unacceptably loud. This happened almost constantly during the position shift that lasted about two minutes. Only now did I (...) to send a message home. The message was that I lived, where we were, so they could contact the police and explain where we were, that I loved everyone and that if I were to die today, I would have died happy. (...) Perceived not the correct number and sent the message wrong. I can still feel my frustration that it took so long to send the message correctly. Then took the girl from Uganda hold in our hands and said, "We must pray." An atheist, a secular Muslim, a Lutheran Christian and a Catholic Christian. I just assumed. Together we chanted out our silent prayers. I asked our father several times. "Let as few as possible to be killed." Finally hung up around the prayer: "I ask forgiveness for all my sins, I ask forgiveness for all my sins, I ask forgiveness for all my sins." It took some minutes before I could think of other thoughts.
Time passed. We were locked in a toilet, but none of us dared to go to the bathroom. Those who had made it in your pants. No judgmental glances, no Questions Asked, only fear of death and gallows humor. I suddenly got a perverted sense of humor. Lo set of the most bizzare things. Quiet, scared and panicky gasps. As the laughter died down. It was always unclear how long we had to be there, it could take many hours. It was therefore important to have a plan in case of emergency. I said in English that we should keep the door locked until the first faint from lack of oxygen. The plan was also to open the door for a short time for the supply of new oxygen. This led to a brief low-key arguments. I can not recall what the conclusion was, but I remember the girl from Uganda were strongly against such a proposal, or did she not know what it meant. Possible the latter is correct. It was so far not a problem. Shortly after (...) could tell that the police were on their way.
Shortly after news of the police's arrival, we heard helicopters. There was still some minutes before we heard the police take into main building. They asked people to say where they were, but it was only the most damaged that dared to ask for help. Most people who had hidden themselves knew that there was a person dressed as a police officer who apparently was the perpetrator. The police were professional. Secured room by room over. The toilets were quite deep, so we would expect to be picked last. I can not recall what happened the next few minutes, but it is clear that I must have gone out of my cubicle and into another. I remember at least that I suddenly found myself in the stall with only one girl that I've never seen before. She must have been about 16 years. We had the door locked and was just afraid. I think it was because the police shot up a door to secure a room. There were people there who refused to let police enter because of the aforementioned information about the perpetrator. The police ordered the people to take your hands over your head in a very commanding and harsh way, but at least they fired no. All the time they went into the new space and secured. Sometimes they had to wait for more police officers to NOK people to secure. They found, was ordered to take his hands over his head and sit along the wall in a long time. All the time we saw the red dots and dashes from weapons to police officers under the crack. Several times I called in and wondered if we could reach. Finally, it was our turn. "Take your hands over your head! Close the door slowly, "I remember I wanted to argue about it, tell him that both are not possible to do at the same time and that I did not want to be shot because of a misunderstanding, but it struck quickly from me. I opened the door ajar. Took my hands on the head. Assured me that the girl had her hands over her head and took the door forskiktig up with your foot. The first thing that met our eyes was a blond boy. He lay on the floor and was shot no less than a few meters from us.
We understand now why his moans could no longer be heard. He was shot in the head. It was the first body we saw that night.
We were ordered to sit along the wall like the others. We were maybe 40 pieces in all. The atmosphere was a little easier. Pulse our waned in unison, but police were still in high alert. Laserprikkene that towered above the walls bore witness to the seriousness of the situation. Each time they provided us was the high age of majority votes. The kind of voices that do not need to ask for peace to get there. First, they wanted volunteers to go into the great hall to get damaged. The first two volunteers rushed in and was recommended to run to the victim and not see too much around them. I would be to retrieve the next wounded out. I followed the advice from the police, however, I received a kind of overview. I could from the corner of my eye for sure count three dead. On the floor there were many more, but I could not say whether they were injured or died. The blood was in the thick poles around. Carnage. We carried out the injured. After the blood on my shirt and pants to judge, he was at least shot in the leg and shoulder. I signed up voluntarily on several occasions. However, several wounded were taken out. Of the many I had seen lying on the floor, there were four wounded were taken out. I heard one complained that he was shot in the eye. Another said he had been shot in the head, but that the bullet had passed through the skull. Probably because the bullet had gone through another first.
The police started to get pretty confident the house. They turned off all the lights, and we did not have to have your hands over your head. Most hands went straight to the pockets, took up the phone and turned on. It was only when ... It was only when I began to cry. The mobile phone did not stop to shake something that felt like an hour. Warnings from family, friends and acquaintances. An indescribably grateful feeling went through my body. It is one of the strongest I have ever experienced. The fact that so many expressed a yearning, worry and love all at once was too much. I began to cry quietly.
The road down to the water was still not sure, so the police could not evacuate anyone yet. However, the majority of the house was secured, so we could go to the bathroom and get food and drinks at the kiosk. XX should be that he kept quiet and acted as our representative in the dialogue with the police. "Is there anyone who has information about the perpetrator? Up with a hand, "said a police high. I raised her hand with a few others. I told them everything I remembered from the ferry trip. I was witness number 11 From here and out came talk. We talked about how afraid we've been, where we hid ourselves, about how awful it all was, of theories about the motives for the assault and someone shouted out news as they got them on the phones. Some tried to find people from their own county, others wanted to know if they had heard from friends. To my right I heard a person's prayer that his brother would be alive. Over time, I threw myself into a discussion about who was behind and the motives for it. One of the more creative theories were I actually even behind. My theory was that the guy was hired by the Mossad because the Labor government has recognized Palestine as a state and recently upgraded the status of their representative in Norway to the Ambassador. Some one asked me how many I thought had died. He even guessed of 70-80 pieces. I almost snorted the century to said it could not be more than 20 This is based on the school and shoots like it was "natural" to compare sitausjonen with. It was not the first time I was wrong that day.
To my right sat a girl who had contact with others who lay around and hid on the island. She began to tell the most grotesque stories about how people saw her boyfriend was shot right in front of them. About how a 12-13 year old in a last desperate maneuver attempted to climb down the cliffs, only to lose grip and fall on stony ground. About how the killer gave himself out to be a police officer for a dozen older, calmed them down, ushered them into a boat, before he slaughtered them. The relief and despair as these young people must have felt the last five minutes of their lives alone should qualify for lifetime. I do not remember if it was just those stories that were told. It is so far not important either. There were stories of similar caliber, only many more. How did talk and rumors buzzed, while we ate chocolate and drank soda. The wounded were evacuated. From here out, I can no longer be said to have no concept of time. We had to sit a while before police found it prudent to evacuate us. Everyone should go on a long line of hands on the head. The rear would fit on the front. If there was shooting, we should lie down and let the police do their job. Many were not able to get shoes, so when about 40 arrived at the ferry that would take us away, there were many who arrived barefoot or stockinged feet. On the way down to the ferry we saw an elderly man lying on his back on the ground. Shot and killed.
We did not know or I knew at least not that the perpetrator had already been arrested for a good while ago. Some were kneeling in the ferry in case someone would shoot from the shore, but gradually it dawned on most people that we were in safety. The vast majority were apathetic and / or in shock. Only a few tears. We could see the country long before we got yours. "Oh my god!" Shouted someone. The whole beach was covered with white sheets. On the quay there were countless paramedics and even if it had been possible to count the number of ambulances, so nobody took the trouble. We were given blankets, registered and ushered into a bus. The whole time I kept around (...). She should have an interview with BBC News about what had happened in just a few minutes. After a while, we explained that we would run into a hotel where the crisis team, doctors and priests were ready to accept us. Food, drinks and hotel rooms were also offered. Long story short. We drive to the hotel. We need to record us again, make a statement to the police and, if we were to go, crossing out. All the time I spied the familiar faces, and every famous face I saw was a relief. I was of those who went home, and I came home at around 2 There waited the close of my family with me. It was delicious. I explained briefly what had happened. I asked if Mom had gotten my message. She had not. She had just gotten the message I had bulk when we were in the security police. I was angry, but anger subsided shortly after. We stayed an hour to talk before I was so tired that I went to bed. I slept well all night. In the evening it had been confirmed about 15 omkommne. I woke up to an inflated number. 84 youth and children had been confirmed dead in Utøya.
I've seen a lot on film. Hostage situations, skuddrama and bank robbery. I have long wondered how I would react in a crisis situation. Yesterday I got the answer. A week ago I might have thought I would have reacted with anger. That I would have gone to the perpetrators. That I had stormed out, with the risk of my own life, to get the injured to unnsettning when they needed it most. The bitter and tough truth is that I, like everyone else, do not dare except to be silent on the floor, in three and a half hours, the police found us. "