Tom Stoddart and Sarajevo, written by those closest to the events and who loved Tom.

Tom had a special affinity with the people of Sarajevo. For months during the longest siege in Europe since the Second World War he lived among the people, often not in hotel rooms but in the homes of the besieged. He had an understanding, a compassion for the Sarajevans and the nightmare of their everyday life which he so brilliantly captured, his work allowing a sometimes indifferent world to witness the realities of war in the heart of Europe.
The human cost of the 47-month siege was horrendous – 10,600 killed, 56,000 wounded and an average of 329 shells a day pounding the Olympic city – just three of the stark statistics that was a backdrop to Tom’s photojournalism. His work showed not only the dreadful suffering but also the incredible bravery, defiance, dignity, pride and strength of Sarajevo’s people.
Those qualities are encapsulated in the iconic photograph of Meliha Varesanovic as head held high, make-up immaculate, pearls hanging from her neck, she strides past the wall of sandbags and a soldier holding a gun. It is the photograph from that time most remembered but Sarajevans talk too of Tom’s photographs that illustrated their ordeal – the victim of a sniper bullet lying in the drawer of a mortuary, one open, undamaged eye inches from the gaping fatal hole just one example.
Tom was always humble and modest brushing away the accolades but among the photographs from that time he often spoke of with pride was of the joyful little girl, one arm outstretched, a doll clasped in the other running into the arms of her mother. It is only when you look closely that you see the woman has no legs, they had been blown off by a shell. He was fascinated by detail of the city’s life as illustrated by pictures he took of the shoes worn by women on Sarajevo’s streets. They had cut off the heels so it was possible to run faster and did not risk falling when the snipers opened fire.

Perhaps it was his early years of training as a regional photographer but Tom often saw angles and stories missed by others. It was not just about pictures but the stories behind them. The shoes were an example and so was the fact that doctors in Sarajevo, who had run out of medicine, were prescribing cigarettes for patients to calm their nerves, providing not only the story but the headline too : ‘The only place in the world where doctors prescribe cigarettes to patients.’
No one will ever forget that Tom’s himself was treated by those doctors after being seriously injured when snipers opened fire and he ran for cover near the Holiday Inn in the city centre. Tom’s injuries included a shattered ankle and shoulder which was to require a titanium replacement joint which forever set-off airport security. Such was the danger even in hospital that patients, including Tom, had to be moved at night to the basement level. Friends braved ‘Sniper Alley’ to take Tom to the besieged airport where a place had been secured on a RAF Hercules flight to Zagreb and then, thanks to his friend and colleague Aidan Sullivan, The Sunday Times paid for Tom’s repatriation.
Fellow photographer Nigel Wright travelled into Sarajevo by road at the beginning of that fateful trip. It was his first time in Central Bosnia and Tom looked after him as he did so many. Tom had taken Nigel to the second hand car market in the Croatian city of Split, then the gateway to Bosnia. Tom and photographer Keith Bernstein bought a ‘clapped out’ Zastava for $100 while Nigel and his reporter purchased a battered BMW for $300. The cars were loaded with supplies, including petrol, and the difficult, stifling journey through the mountains to the Bosnia capital began, breaking at night overlooking the city by the ski jump used for the Sarajevo Winter Olympics. As dawn broke, Tom took the lead in his Zastava warning the final five miles into the city would be incredibly dangerous – an understatement.

Nigel recalls : ‘Tom was very calm, he said the sniper’s – he referred to a ‘booze warriors’ - would be sleeping off the night before.
'Tom warned us, “go flat out and don’t stop for anything until we reach the Holiday Inn!” My memory from the passenger seat was, of zig zagging potholes, debris and burning or burned out trams and trucks…the Soviet built Zastava handling it better than the BMW.’
Tom would return often to Bosnia. Inevitably, he was back and at the time of the Srebrenica massacre teaming-up with fellow Geordie Gordon Bacon, then the head of a small British charity working with women and babies on Bosnia’s frontlines. In July of 1995 they travelled to the Tuzla airfield in northern Bosnia where desperate and exhausted, survivors were arriving. Bacon recalls watching ‘the master at work as he quietly and sympathetically went about his work among the desperate people. I watched Tom take photos of the displaced people and in most cases the subject of the photo didn't know it was being done. There was no, lens in the face, in fact quite the opposite. Tom would position himself some distance away, often sitting on the floor and simply wait. When the moment was right the camera would be lifted slowly and the picture taken. He always treated the people he photographed with great dignity and respect. Tom went out of his way to make sure the NGO I was working with received all the photographs they wanted for their publications. He also donated the proceeds of his South Bank exhibition, "Edge of Madness" to the same charity.’
That generosity was typical of Tom.  His friend and long-time translator Aida  Cavdar talks of his ‘decency, kindness, humour and compassion.’ ‘We in Sarajevo loved him and he will always be in our hearts,’ she said.  ‘His pictures gave us a voice when we had none, he lived among us, he was one of us, he was a hero of Sarajevo.  His work will help prevent what happened in Sarajevo ever being forgotten and we will never forget him.’




Shells flares and tracer bullets light up the night sky as Serb gunners pound Sarajevo from their positions in the surrounding hills. Sarajevo, 1992.


Women run for their lives across 'Sniper Alley' under the sights of Serb gunmen during the siege of Sarajevo, 1992.


Sarajevans run for cover during shooting in 'Sniper Alley' in 1992.


A smiling girl runs across Sniper Alley in Sarajevo during heavy fighting. Sarajevo, 1992.


Women run across 'Sniper Alley' during heavy shooting in Sarajevo in 1995.


Children play among bullet ridden vehicles near the frontline in Sarajevo in 1996.


Children use empty amunition boxes as they play Serb against Bosnians during a break in the real life shelling of Sarajevo of 1992.


During a break in the shelling children play basketball in the burnt out financial district of Sarajevo in 1992.


A small girl stares silently through a shattered window as the first United Nations aid convoy in four months reaches besieged people in the Sarajevo suburb of Dobrinja. Sarajevo, 1992.


Srapnel wounds on the face of a frightened boy in a ward at Sarajevo hospital during the siege in 1992.


Sedija Katica, who lost both legs after being hit by a grenade, plays with her 5 year old daughter, Amra, near the frontline in Sarajevo, 1994.


Serb snipers took a terrible toll on the citizens of Sarajevo, "God forgive them for what they have done", says morgue attendant Ramiz Helja. Sarajevo, 1994.


Celloist Vedran Smalovic breaks down in tears after playing a requiem to a dead friend in Hero's Cemetery, where Bosnian fighters were buried during the siege of Sarajevo, 1992.


Transported out of Kosovo into Macedonia by bus in the middle of the night, a father and son escape from their Serb tormentors, during the spring of 1999 when 1.5 million Kosovo Albanias were forced out of their homes. Macedonia, 1999.


A refugee camp set up in Macedonia to hold thousands of people fleeing from Kosovo. The Serbs called it 'ethnic cleansing' as at gunpoint they forced 1.5 million Albanians out of their homes in Kosovo in the spring of 1999; in just three weeks, in April 1999, over 600,000 people - nearly half Kosovo's population. Macedonia, 1999.


Four women from the Bosnian village of Srnice whose husbands are all dead or missing after the Srebrenica massacre. They are photographed at the refugee centre set up at the Tuzla Woman and Child Centre for survivors and refugees of the massacre. Tuzla, Bosnia, 1996.


A child weeps for her dead father at a mass funeral in Kosovo during the spring of 1999 when 1.5 million Albanians were forced to flee their homes by Serb forces. Kosovo, 1999.


Weary and hungry an old woman waits for help after crossing the border between Kosovo and Albania in 1999.


The scene where alledgedly a teenage girl was raped and murdered by Serb forces in Kosovo. Investigators reckon at least 12,000 ethnic Albanians were slaughtered that spring, but the Serbs went to great lengths to cover up their crimes. Many of their victims' bodies were thrown down mineshafts or burned in smelting plants. Kosovo, 1999.


US Marines showing their weapons as they enter Kosovo as part of a NATO Peacekeeping Force. Kosovo, 1999.


An old man walks past the destruction of war as Kosovar Albanians return home to their destroyed houses after the Serb forces had left the province, forced out by NATO bombing. Kosovo, 1999.


Comforting hands reassure a distraught boy after days of walking to flee from Serb forces in Kosovo, 1999.


A mother peers through plastic at a refugee camp in Kukes, Albania, where thousands of people stayed after being forced to flee from Kosovo by Serb forces in 1999.


Children queuing at refugee camp in Kukes, Albania, 1999.


Serb forces show their weapons as they withdraw from Kosovo back to Belgrade, Serbia. The Serbs called it 'ethnic cleansing' as at gunpoint they forced 1.5 million Albanians out of their homes in Kosovo in the spring of 1999. War crimes investigators say 800,000 were driven out of Kosovo while another 650,000 had to abandon their homes and find shelter anywhere they could in the province. In just three weeks, in April 1999, over 600,000 people - nearly half Kosovo's population - fled over their nearest border to Macedonia, Albaniaand Montenegro. Kosovo, 1999.


Lt. Colonel Nick Anthony, commanding officer of 539 Assault Squadron, a special unit of British Royal Marines, prepares himself to to rally his men for an assault on Basra after the death of a comrade, killed in action in the marshes of Southern iraq during the conflict in 2003.


British Royal Marines from 539 Assault Squadron burn buildings from where Iraqi forces could launch an ambush in the southern marshes of Iraq along the Khawr Az Zubayr waterway during the 2003 conflict.


Iraqi children use Saddam Husseins luxury yacht as a playground days after British forces took control of Basra in the south of Iraq during the 2003 conflict.


Along the Khawr Az Zubayr waterway in the marshes of southern Iraq, British Royal Marines from 539 Assault Squadron have been under fire during a night time patrol, and have just been told that one of their comrades has been killed. Tiredness and grief overcome them. Iraq, 2003.


British Royal Marine George Summers from 539 Assault Squadron, has just learned that his comrade from the unit has been killed during action in the marshes of southern Iraq in 2003.


Inside a portable toilet set up in the Kuwait desert, words of wisdom from a member of the US military waiting to go to war against Saddam Hussein's regime in March 2003.


British Royal Marine officers from 539 Assault Squadron plan their tactics under a desert camouflage net days before the start of the Iraq conflict in March 2003.


British Royal Marines from 539 Assault Squadron pictured on patrol in a hovercraft along the waterways of southern Iraq near Basra during the first days of the war in March 2003.


British Royal Marine Sgt Gary Higson from 539 Assault Squadron cautiously patrols the Khawr Az Zubayr waterway in southern Iraq during the first days of the war in 2003.


Target practice on the remote Bubiyan Island for the Royal Marines of 539 Assault Squadron prior to beginning their mission to secure the waterways in southern Iraq during the 2003 conflict.


Thick smoke from oil pipeline fires obscures the sun as British Royal marines advance on Basra in southern Iraq during the invasion of 2003.