

We had just arrived at a block of flats, still rather a smart dwelling, despite the gaping, blackened hole in one of the balconies. A journalist had brought outside on the pavement shards of what were possibly remnants of the offending munition, in order to photograph them in the daylight.
As members of the Amnesty International team who successfully gained access to Gaza during the conflict, we were on the ground within hours of the cease fire being signed. Here the task was to investigate a particularly tragic incident. A detonation inside one of the flats had killed several children. We were to interview witnesses and immediate family, as well as comb for evidence.
The interior of the apartment was a horrifying sight. The balcony and outside wall had been blown in. A large hole piercing an interior wall indicated a horizontal force; the back wall of the room bore an impact crater from the residual velocity of the incoming missile. The room’s contents lay hurled and shredded by the ferocity of exploding fragments. The volume of blood and flesh sprayed up the walls onto the ceiling testified to the force of the blast.
Careful sifting of the detritus yielded small, discernable shards of an immediately recognisable composition. Discovery of the core of the projectile soon confirmed our suspicions, which were further validated by the characteristic joint of a stabilisation fin. All unquestionably were remnants of an Israeli Merkava tank shell.
By retracing the shell’s trajectory, it was possible to approximate the point of origin. Roughly two kilometres away ran a ridge of high ground, commanding a clear prospect of the surrounding area. Examination of the site revealed it to have been flattened by tanks, the telltale impressions from their tracks still fresh.
As part of the investigative team, it was my role to assess what had occurred from a military perspective, as well as to conduct a technical analysis of specific incidents. Often this was impossible; sometimes I could make an educated guess, but occasionally the process was relatively straightforward.
We had been alerted to a location of an alleged flechette strike, where the distinctive “darts” remained embedded in the façade of a house: compelling evidence that this controversial weapon had been deployed. The local populace were keen to help out, but it was the children who were both current and conversant. They pointed out tiny perforations where flechettes struck, and when we asked what had happened to them, they replied: “Journalists, they take them.…”
There is no preservation of potential crime scenes in Gaza. Life goes on. Clearing up commences immediately; rubble is scoured for anything salvageable. Weapon fragments are collected in the process, but rapidly disposed of. Given the historical lack of credible investigations, and despite encouragement from Palestinian NGOs, Gazans see little purpose in securing objects that appear to serve purely as a reminder of personal tragedy.
Opportunity to gather evidence and record it is therefore limited in time and scope. Every speck is of the utmost importance: A serial number plate from a missile denoting country of origin, a shard that would differentiate an artillery shell fragment from a tank round, anything that might reveal the perpetration of a war crime.
No doubt it was in rare instances that crucial evidence was removed by the media.
It goes without saying that not everything lying around the battlefield is safe to handle. Even with over thirty years’ experience of weaponry, I treat every encounter as potentially lethal. Yet I have seen unexploded munitions revealed in airport scanners, on mantelpieces, in foreign bureaus – even on a producer’s desk in London. Never forget that such trophies were designed to kill and maim. They happen to be very effective in doing precisely that, even after the fact.
For the sake of the victims, the investigators and your own safety: it may well look interesting, but leave it where it lies.
Do not to collect battlefield souvenirs: it compromises potential war crime scenes and could easily prove dangerous.

Article written by Chris Cobb-