SYDNEY: Through wars, disasters and coups, foreign correspondent Kate Webb chronicled the turbulent birth of modern Asia, becoming a media legend who had the eerie experience of reading her own obituary.
Webb, who died yesterday at 64 after battling cancer, covered many of Asia’s seminal events of the last four decades with a keen eye for the real story and a rare empathy for the innocent victims of history.
In 1971, she became caught up in the turbulence herself when she was ambushed and taken prisoner by North Vietnamese troops in Cambodia.
She and five others were marched through the jungle in a 23-day ordeal during which she was reported killed, earning a front-page obituary in the New York Times.
“It was strange and embarrassing to see that,” said the soft-spoken Webb shortly before her death in Australia, her adopted homeland where she launched her journalism career in the early 1960s and retired nearly 40 years later.
She and the other captives were freed just as her family held a memorial service for her in Sydney.
The body of a young woman, found near the spot where she vanished during a firefight, had been wrongly identified as hers.
“It caused a bit of a stir at home,” Webb recalled a few years ago, her trademark beer and cigarette firmly in hand.
Her legend was minted in Vietnam, where she was one of only a few women to cover the war full-time and where her courage and reputation as a stickler for the facts earned her the unwavering respect of colleagues.
“Kate Webb was one of the earliest - and best - women correspondents of the Vietnam war,” said Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Peter Arnett. “She was fearless as an action reporter, with a talent for the vivid phrase.”
Webb’s knack for being in hotspots at the right time, a fearsome wrath and her colourful bar-room antics became the stuff of folklore among fellow Asia hands who made their mark in the pre-Internet era.
Armed only with a notebook and typewriter, Webb covered the fall of Saigon in 1975, the rise of Cambodia’s Khmer Rouge, the assassination of India’s premier Rajiv Gandhi and the strife in East Timor.
She was also on hand for the ‘People Power’ ouster of Ferdinand Marcos in the Philippines, the Gulf War, the Soviet occupation and ensuing civil war in Afghanistan, the death of North Korean leader Kim Il-Sung in 1994 and Hong Kong’s handover to China.
“She was a pioneer for female reporters and a role model for all foreign correspondents. She was one of the legends,” said veteran AFP journalist Chris Lefkow, who covered the 1991 Gulf War with her.
Modest and intensely private, Webb chose the anonymity of wire journalism over other media.
Quietly probing, shy, tough, vulnerable, blunt, pithily funny and terrifying to those who crossed her, she preferred to tell the stories of ordinary people whose voices would not otherwise be heard.
“She was a classic war correspondent - chain-smoking, hard-drinking, foul-mouthed at times and always fearless,” said AFP’s Roberto Coloma, a long-time friend.
“But beneath that hard exterior was a tender, caring person. Kate always had a soft spot for the underdog.”
Webb was born in New Zealand in 1943 and moved to Australia at the age of eight when her father became a professor of political science in Canberra.
Death first shook Webb’s life when her parents were killed in a car crash when she was 18.
After studying philosophy at Melbourne University, she wanted to become an artist. Webb stumbled into journalism when she was forced to pay for a stained-glass window she shattered while working on it.
She landed a job as a secretary on Sydney’s Daily Mirror and soon became a cadet reporter.
At 23, she resigned, paid her own way to Saigon and wrangled a job as a freelancer for the United Press International wire service, where she would work for about 13 years.
Kitted out in khaki, the slight brunette covered two of the biggest battles of the war, including the 1968 Tet offensive, and witnessed much horror that would stay with her throughout her life.
In 1970, she became bureau chief in Phnom Penh after her boss and their photographer were killed.
After her captivity in 1971, which left her with two types of malaria that nearly killed her, Webb saw out the end of the Vietnam War, filing ceaselessly for 24 hours as the last Americans fled falling Saigon.
She joined AFP in Jakarta in 1985 and remained with the agency for 16 years, serving in Indonesia, India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Hong Kong, South Korea and Afghanistan.
She also undertook emergency assignments to other Asian nations until her retirement in 2001.
It was in Afghanistan, a country for which she held a special affection, that she had some of her closest shaves.
A furious militiaman turned on Webb following a rocket attack outside the Kabul Hotel and almost scalped her when he dragged her up the stairs by her long hair, tearing out a large clump. She escaped and spent much of the night hiding on a freezing balcony.
Webb later befriended an Afghan family that helped her out of another tight corner and helped them migrate to Australia, where she put the children through university.
She played down such characteristic generosity by saying people had given her big breaks and she was simply trying to reciprocate.
“She always felt closer to local people than to foreign journalists and operated in the nether parts of town where the cameras were not,” said Reuters correspondent Bill Tarrant, a friendly rival of Webb’s in Indonesia, India, Afghanistan and South Korea.
“She was one of a kind - formidable, irascible, self-deprecating and sometimes even insulting. She was an Annie Oakley type,” he said.
At the end, through the veil of pain that cancer brought, Webb was uncomplaining and remained fiercely witty.
When a nurse found her outside the hospital having a quiet cigarette and chided her with a warning that smoking was bad for her, Webb shot back cheerily: “Too late!” – AFP.
Webb, who died yesterday at 64 after battling cancer, covered many of Asia’s seminal events of the last four decades with a keen eye for the real story and a rare empathy for the innocent victims of history.
In 1971, she became caught up in the turbulence herself when she was ambushed and taken prisoner by North Vietnamese troops in Cambodia.
She and five others were marched through the jungle in a 23-day ordeal during which she was reported killed, earning a front-page obituary in the New York Times.
“It was strange and embarrassing to see that,” said the soft-spoken Webb shortly before her death in Australia, her adopted homeland where she launched her journalism career in the early 1960s and retired nearly 40 years later.
She and the other captives were freed just as her family held a memorial service for her in Sydney.
The body of a young woman, found near the spot where she vanished during a firefight, had been wrongly identified as hers.
“It caused a bit of a stir at home,” Webb recalled a few years ago, her trademark beer and cigarette firmly in hand.
Her legend was minted in Vietnam, where she was one of only a few women to cover the war full-time and where her courage and reputation as a stickler for the facts earned her the unwavering respect of colleagues.
“Kate Webb was one of the earliest - and best - women correspondents of the Vietnam war,” said Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Peter Arnett. “She was fearless as an action reporter, with a talent for the vivid phrase.”
Webb’s knack for being in hotspots at the right time, a fearsome wrath and her colourful bar-room antics became the stuff of folklore among fellow Asia hands who made their mark in the pre-Internet era.
Armed only with a notebook and typewriter, Webb covered the fall of Saigon in 1975, the rise of Cambodia’s Khmer Rouge, the assassination of India’s premier Rajiv Gandhi and the strife in East Timor.
She was also on hand for the ‘People Power’ ouster of Ferdinand Marcos in the Philippines, the Gulf War, the Soviet occupation and ensuing civil war in Afghanistan, the death of North Korean leader Kim Il-Sung in 1994 and Hong Kong’s handover to China.
“She was a pioneer for female reporters and a role model for all foreign correspondents. She was one of the legends,” said veteran AFP journalist Chris Lefkow, who covered the 1991 Gulf War with her.
Modest and intensely private, Webb chose the anonymity of wire journalism over other media.
Quietly probing, shy, tough, vulnerable, blunt, pithily funny and terrifying to those who crossed her, she preferred to tell the stories of ordinary people whose voices would not otherwise be heard.
“She was a classic war correspondent - chain-smoking, hard-drinking, foul-mouthed at times and always fearless,” said AFP’s Roberto Coloma, a long-time friend.
“But beneath that hard exterior was a tender, caring person. Kate always had a soft spot for the underdog.”
Webb was born in New Zealand in 1943 and moved to Australia at the age of eight when her father became a professor of political science in Canberra.
Death first shook Webb’s life when her parents were killed in a car crash when she was 18.
After studying philosophy at Melbourne University, she wanted to become an artist. Webb stumbled into journalism when she was forced to pay for a stained-glass window she shattered while working on it.
She landed a job as a secretary on Sydney’s Daily Mirror and soon became a cadet reporter.
At 23, she resigned, paid her own way to Saigon and wrangled a job as a freelancer for the United Press International wire service, where she would work for about 13 years.
Kitted out in khaki, the slight brunette covered two of the biggest battles of the war, including the 1968 Tet offensive, and witnessed much horror that would stay with her throughout her life.
In 1970, she became bureau chief in Phnom Penh after her boss and their photographer were killed.
After her captivity in 1971, which left her with two types of malaria that nearly killed her, Webb saw out the end of the Vietnam War, filing ceaselessly for 24 hours as the last Americans fled falling Saigon.
She joined AFP in Jakarta in 1985 and remained with the agency for 16 years, serving in Indonesia, India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Hong Kong, South Korea and Afghanistan.
She also undertook emergency assignments to other Asian nations until her retirement in 2001.
It was in Afghanistan, a country for which she held a special affection, that she had some of her closest shaves.
A furious militiaman turned on Webb following a rocket attack outside the Kabul Hotel and almost scalped her when he dragged her up the stairs by her long hair, tearing out a large clump. She escaped and spent much of the night hiding on a freezing balcony.
Webb later befriended an Afghan family that helped her out of another tight corner and helped them migrate to Australia, where she put the children through university.
She played down such characteristic generosity by saying people had given her big breaks and she was simply trying to reciprocate.
“She always felt closer to local people than to foreign journalists and operated in the nether parts of town where the cameras were not,” said Reuters correspondent Bill Tarrant, a friendly rival of Webb’s in Indonesia, India, Afghanistan and South Korea.
“She was one of a kind - formidable, irascible, self-deprecating and sometimes even insulting. She was an Annie Oakley type,” he said.
At the end, through the veil of pain that cancer brought, Webb was uncomplaining and remained fiercely witty.
When a nurse found her outside the hospital having a quiet cigarette and chided her with a warning that smoking was bad for her, Webb shot back cheerily: “Too late!” – AFP.
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