Episode 1: The terrorist in my bedroom wardrobe

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Prologue: The terrorist in my bedroom wardrobe 

Joe Frost

I’ve got a box in my house that has bits of dead terrorist inside it. I keep it in my bedroom cupboard. 

I landed at Sydney Airport on the morning of October 3rd 2005, where the Australian Federal Police were waiting to interview me, and to take the clothes I had been wearing when the bombs went off. 

Months later, having undergone forensic and ballistic analysis, my shirt was returned. The right side of it – the side that had been closest to the bomber – had disintegrated in the blast.  

Still, it was my lucky shirt. And if you reckon a shirt is lucky, you won’t get any better confirmation than surviving a suicide bombing while it’s draped over your shoulders. 

So I put it in a box for safe keeping. 

But lodged in the shirt were – are – bits. I don’t know what else to call them. Just small bits flecked across the cotton, large enough to pick out with your fingernails, that have stained the surrounding material the rust colour of dried blood. 

Bits of terrorist. 

When the device he was wearing went bang, that young Indonesian man’s body was reduced to particles. Then, these bits of former human sprayed out and stuck to whatever they hit.  

I’m sure there was more of it – of him – on my person in the aftermath, but the ocean, showers and the general living of life meant most wouldn’t cling to me for long.  

But there was no washing it all away. Not completely. 

So in an unmarked box, a few feet from where I sleep at night, are the remnants of my lucky shirt. And within those remnants are yet more remains.  

The remains of the dead man who tried to kill me.  

Who did kill three people at our table. 

As to who the man was… Well, that was a question for which I had no answer.  

I came to know two names in the days that followed – Noordin Top and Azhari Husin – but they had planned the attack and were now on the run.  

There would be no running for the men who had the gumption to strap on the packs and execute the plan.  

But nor would there be any infamy. There wouldn’t be so much as a mention of who they were on Wikipedia. 

So for almost 20 years, what was in that box was pretty much all the information I had about the terrorist.  

I knew simply that he had died in such a ruthless fashion that tiny bits of his destroyed body could be found in the shirt of one of the people he tried to kill. 

What drives a person to that? A violent, bloody end, for not just you, but also two of your accomplices, and dozens of people that you have zero connection to or with. 

Who was this person, this person I never met and yet now keep, in part, in the house where my wife and I raise our children? 

He can’t be unknowable. Because people did know him. 

Terrorist. Learning his name would be a good place to start. 

Act 1: Team Newcastle  

Joe Frost

A trip to Bali is something of a rite of passage for Australians. Adelaide band Redgum had a hit with ‘I’ve been to Bali too’ in 1984 – that's more than 40 years of the Indonesian island being the quintessential overseas experience for young Aussies.  

So it should come as no surprise that the seeds of our fateful trip to the Island of the Gods were sown by a group of eager teenagers. 

With their final year of high school about to begin, a group of mates from St Francis Xavier’s College in Newcastle – a city on Australia’s East Coast, about two hours’ north of Sydney – hatched a plan to take their surfboards to Kuta. 

With money from part-time jobs to pay their own way, and the confidence of youth on their side, these 16 and 17-year-old kids figured their parents would have no qualms with a group of underage mates heading to one of the world’s most famous party cities without any adult supervision.  

Vicky Griffiths 

The boys organised it. And they got such a shock when we said, ‘no! (laughs) That ain’t happening!’ 

Joe Frost

Kim and Vicki Griffiths had been visiting Bali since the 1970s – they loved the surf, the culture, the people, and had taken their three sons on holiday there countless times.  

By 2005, Kim and Vicki’s two oldest boys were in their 20s. But they still had reservations about their youngest son, Jordan, going over without them. 

Vicky Griffiths 

Yeah, so they thought that they could go by themselves. They were 17 and thought that they could all just go by themselves and we said, ‘I don’t think that’ll be happening.’ 

Kim Griffiths 

Probably would have been a good idea in hindsight… 

Vicky Griffiths 

Yeah [laughing], and then we spoke to a couple of the other parents – the Pillars, um – y’know they said ‘oh no that’s not going to happen.’  

Joe Frost

The Pillars were Jenny and Eric Pillar, who had only recently moved to Newcastle with their teenage son and daughter, Mitchell and Lana. 

I spoke to Jenny and Eric at that same beautiful home in Merewether, which backs onto one of Newcastle’s famous footy fields, so apologies for the sound of a lawnmower in the background. 

Jenny Pillar

The kids had never  been overseas and we’d just moved into this house, we just were finishing it, and Mitch had come home from school – Mitch was friendly with all the boys, the surfy boys, they all surfed and everything – and he came home and was like, talking about Bali and ... He was earning money so he had his own money and the boys had gone down to the Junction to the travel agent and... 

And so Eric and I, we’d finished the house, and we were sort of saying, ‘look what about if we go to, we’ll go and make it a family holiday, we’ll give you your space.’   

And then, so, we said we’d go and that’s when the other parents were like, ‘well if you’re going to go, we might go too.’   

Kim and Vicky Griffiths, having decades of experience in Bali, became the focal point for the group – being asked for advice on flights, accommodation and even to keep an eye on some boys whose parents weren’t coming on the trip.  

Vicky Griffiths

V: So it just exponentially grew and then people that weren’t in that year, friends of ours, and friends of friends asked if they could come, and we’re always inclusive, said ‘yeah fine’. And then all of a sudden there was a lot of people going wasn’t there? 

And then there were some kids the parents didn’t want to go and so the parents rang us and said, ‘can they come?’ 

But anyway so there were a few kids there without parents and I was sort of their quasi-sort-of-guardian, chasing them around for their airline tickets and all that sort of stuff. 

So I didn’t really organise it, the boys started the ball rolling, and people were just asking me for advice about it. And then other people were saying, ‘my son wants to go and we can’t go, is that all right?’ Suppose so! 

Kim Griffiths

K: They said, ‘where are you staying?’ and they all stayed at the same place. 

Joe Frost

All told, around 40 people from Newcastle ended up on the Balinese holiday – a mix of parents aged in their 40s and 50s, the teenage boys who had got the ball rolling on the trip, and then a smattering of older and younger siblings.  

In the last days of September 2005, the group from Newcastle began to arrive at Denpasar Airport. Most were on a Qantas flight from Sydney, although a handful of others – including Colin and Fiona Zwolinski – would arrive in the coming days. 

While it was less than three years since more than 200 people had been killed in terrorist attacks at Paddy’s Pub and the Sari Club in the 2002 Bali Bombing, for me, the height of concern was going through customs.  

Schapelle Corby had been busted in late 2004 with 4 kilos of cannabis in her boogie-board bag at this exact airport  and sentenced to 20 years in a Balinese Prison. Corby always maintained her innocence – that the pot had been planted in her bag without her knowledge – so I had a small sense of relief when we were waved through by the Indonesian customs officials. No dramas. 

For other members of the group, however, there was an element of concern about being in Bali. 

Julia Lederwasch, the Deputy Head at St Francis Xavier’s, had come on holiday with her husband, Dietmar, and three children, Aleta, Gab and Louis – aged 21, 18 and 15 respectively.  

Julia and my Mum had been mates for decades, having lived and travelled together through England and Ireland during the Troubles. But the carefree attitude of their youth had shifted – as it tends to do – now that they were travelling with their own families. 

Julia Lederwasch

We went to go and order clothes or suits or something, I remember catching a taxi or something to that... But certainly when we caught a taxi back... we’d get off down the road, so no one knew where we were staying. So we had some consciousness of care...  we were conscious that we didn’t want them knowing where we were staying... because we were Australians.  

Joe Frost

If Julia had a general reluctance, her eldest daughter, Aleta, had a more pronounced concern about being in Bali less than three years after the 2002 attacks. 

Aleta Lederwasch

I’d never been overseas before so when Mum said that we were probably going to Bali I do remember saying to her, ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea, there was a terrorist attack there, what if that happens?’ And Mum did say, ‘look that sort of thing can happen anywhere, that can happen in Australia... You know, don't stop fear from getting in the way of experiencing life, because that can happen anywhere.’  

So I was really conscious not to do anything that could be possibly offensive. Like, I wasn't planning on going out or drinking. So I thought, you know, I should be fairly safe. I'm not going to go to a nightclub, I'm not going to do anything like that...  yeah, first impressions were it was a beautiful place and really relaxing and enjoyed it, but I was, I did have this little... I wasn't completely relaxed.  

Joe Frost

We settled into our accommodation, a resort at the southern end of Kuta Beach called Bali Garden, and did things Aussies in Bali do – surfing, swimming and shopping. 

On October 1, the group made plans for a cultural day, boarding a bus to get away from the intensity of downtown Kuta for some of the more traditional experiences the island had to offer. 

Vicky Griffiths.

Vicky Griffiths.

I organised the bus for us all to go, and I had made up a big sign that was on the front of the bus that said ‘Team Newcastle’, on the front of the bus.  

Joe Frost

My Dad, Dr Adam Frost: 

Adam Frost

We were on the bus that they had 'Team Newcastle’... everybody went - everyone from Newcastle was there?  

Joe Frost 

I think those teenage boys ... they all went surfing instead,  

Adam Frost

Oh right. 

Joe Frost 

But parents and smaller kids all went. 

Adam Frost

We had a nice lunch up in the hills... Open restaurant, big rafters. And we all went up to Ubud, the monkey forest. 

I remember Louis Lederwasch got scratched by a monkey, and I went, ‘well, we’re gonna have to do something about that, get the monkey vaccine.’ We were talking about whether he should go to hospital there. And then about a month later, I went, ‘Wait, Louis, did we ever do anything about that monkey scratch?’ Became very unimportant.  

Joe Frost

Vicky Griffiths.

Vicky Griffiths

... And then the driver said ‘would you like to go out for dinner?’ He came and saw me, said ‘would you like to go out for dinner afterwards, it will only be an extra blah-blah’. 

I just said to everyone on the bus, ‘is that what you want to do?’ And most people said yes, your mum and dad got off with some kids, I think everyone else said yes except your mum and dad, but they had a lot younger children, so I think they were keen for them to just get fed and go to bed and all of that sort of stuff.  

Joe Frost

That evening, we hopped off the sweltering bus back at Bali Gardens and straight into the pool. Those who wanted to go out for dinner at Jimbaran Beach were told to be ready to go again in an hour. 

I was in two minds. On the one hand, fresh seafood on the beach sounded amazing. On the other hand, while I got on great with all the people who would be heading along, they were pretty much all parents. At 20 years old, I would be the youngest member of the group. 

My parents had decided they would not go – my four younger brothers and sisters were aged between 10 and 17 years old and none of them wanted to get back on that bus.  

But as I sipped a Bintang at the swim-up bar, my Dad gave me a gentle nudge. He told me that Aleta – one of my best mates – was going, so I wouldn’t be a complete sore thumb. 

"You should go,” he said. "It'll be great.” 

Act 2: 7.34.12pm 

Joe Frost

In the middle months of 2005, as the members of Team Newcastle were solidifying their travel itinerary, another group were also drawing up plans for a trip to Bali. 

Their reasons for visiting the island were, in part, the same as any tourist: it was one of the world’s most famous holiday destinations. 

However, this group's aim was not to holiday; their aim was at holidaymakers. 

Azhari Husin
Why Bali? Because an attack in Bali is an attack with global impact. Bali is known around the world, better known than Indonesia itself. An attack in Bali will be covered by the international media. In this way, the world will get the message that an attack has been directed at America and its allies... terrorists have only attacked two places in Indonesia, Bali and Jakarta, because the international psychological impact is more easily achieved.  

The enemy often gathers in restaurants and discos in Bali. A mass attack on the enemy is more possible there than elsewhere in Indonesia. 

Joe Frost

These are the words (although not the voice) of Azhari Husin. A lifelong academic – having earned a PhD no less – Dr Husin’s planning was meticulous. But far from being a mere paper-pusher, Azhari was a bombmaker with years of experience, whose skills had been put to devastating use in the first Bali bombings.  

In 2002, Azhari had been something of a lieutenant; a willing participant, although one who was down the chain of command. By 2005, he was no longer taking orders: Azhari was one of the leaders in this plot to attack Bali.  

But he would put his previous experience to use. 

Azhari Husin

The first attack in Bali on 12 October 2002 used a car bomb. The same method cannot be used because security is tighter. It is not easy to find and bring in explosives in the quantity needed. It is more difficult to rent a house with a garage to assemble the car bomb. The presence of a team to stay for a few weeks in a rented house to support the bombing operation will be easily detected.  

The method of attack has to change. A large-scale bomb is no longer possible. The bomb must be smaller and brought in ready to use. The work of assembling it must be done outside Bali. In this way the support team does not have to be in Bali and it’s no longer necessary to rent a house.  

The perpetrators have only to enter Bali with the bomb and attack the target they have previously identified. 

Joe Frost

Over a number of months and with the involvement of a small company of foot soldiers acting as scouts, Azhari wrote ‘The Bali Project’ - a 34-page document, which included a detailed field survey of potential targets.  

Possible sites included fast-food restaurants, such as McDonald’s, Pizza Hut and KFC; popular shopping destinations, such as tattoo parlours and souvenir stalls; the airport, with the note “Get information about arriving and departing flights, particularly from Australia”; and even the possibility of attacking the memorial to the first Bali bombing. 

In the end, it was decided the optimal targets were a café on Jalan Legian, which is the main street of Kuta, as well as restaurants on Jimbaran Beach. 

Azhari Husin

Survey results show that the number of foreigners is far higher at Jimbaran. Indeed, visitors at Jimbaran are businessmen as compared to the foreigners at Jl. Legian who are mostly young people. The deaths of foreign businessmen will have a greater impact than those of young people. 

Joe Frost

As for who would carry out the attacks, again, nothing was left to chance. 

Keeping their gang small, so as to minimise the risk of being caught, the young men who had scouted the best sites for the attack would also be the ones to carry out the final mission.  

But since they would be coming and going from Bali, Azhari could not rely on his established cadre of followers – those particular men were already wanted and would surely be picked up by the police.  

Instead, new followers needed to be recruited – young men who had clean criminal records to ensure they did not attract any attention as they came and went from Bali. 

The new recruits were given a codename: ‘Bridegrooms’. 

The first Bridegroom to be selected was a 20-something teacher from Java named Salik Firdaus.  

Born in West Java in 1981, Salik had attended Darusyahadah – an Islamic boarding school known as a pesantren. With Indonesia’s population overwhelmingly identifying as Muslim, there are tens of thousands of these pesantrens across the country and the vast majority are fine schools that graduate upstanding human beings.  

However, Darusyahadah was one of a concerning number of pesantrens with strong links to Jemaah Islamiyah, or JI. 

The concern with this link is that JI was listed by the Australian Government as a terrorist organisation on 27 October 2002 – about two weeks after JI members were responsible for the the first Bali bombing. 

After graduating from Darusyahadah, Salik began teaching, spending time at yet another JI-affiliated pesantren, called al-Mutaqien, on Java’s north coast. According to Salik’s neighbours, it was while at al-Mutaqien that his fanaticsim began to grow. 

It was also while he was at al-Mutaqien that he was approached by one of his fellow former Darusyahadah attendees - a young man known as Jabir. 

In the early months of 2004, Jabir had joined up with Azhari and his group of violent extremists, and less than six months later, Jabir played a key role in the bombing of the Australian Embassy in Jakarta. 

In short, Jabir was a wanted man, whose ideology had already been spelled out in the blood of nine innocent people. So when Jabir asked him to join this network, Salik surely knew what he was signing up for.  

But Salik not only said that he wanted to join Jabir in his deadly cause, he also agreed to recruit others to it. 

In around July 2005, Salik Firdaus brought two more men into the fold – one named Aip Hidayat, who would later be described as devout but not a fanatic, and the other simply known as Misno, whose father described him as "a normal kid”, who "wasn't especially religious”. 

"If only I knew beforehand of his plans I could have tried to prevent it," Misno’s father would later tell the Jakarta Post.  

Over the following three months, the Bridegrooms conducted Azhari’s field survey in Bali, then returned to the Indonesian island of Java – a short ferry ride away from Bali – where they reported their findings.  

The trio then received training in how to use explosive devices, as well as spiritual guidance – essentially assurance and reassurance that their upcoming mission was good and just; that their actions were the fulfilment of divine will that would result in eternal paradise for themselves and the people they loved. 

A few days before October 1, the three men each gave their last will and testament on video. The late Professor Sarlito Wirawan Sarwono, who was then the Dean of the Faculty of Psychology at the University of Indonesia in Jakarta, said the following about the videos in November 2007: 

“In the clip they all look like very ordinary people. They love, and are devoted to and responsible for, their families, they express normal emotion, they are able to show empathy, they behave politely, and they avoid rude vocabulary in their speech. According to the police records, in the past they had never committed crimes. The three Bali bombers cannot, therefore, be categorised as psychopaths...” 

With the videos recorded, the three Bridegrooms once again boarded a bus destined for Bali; two sat together, one on his own. They were under strict instruction to keep an eye on one another, and to be hyper vigilant about the safety of the backpacks that were onboard with them.  

The only concern during their trip was security as the bus disembarked the ferry at Bali’s Gilimanuk Port, where all three would have to get off the bus for an identity check. 

Azhari Husin

At the bus parking area there are some uniformed security guards. At the checkpoint itself, there is no one in uniform but there are a few people monitoring things. It is highly likely that they are security.  

The backpack is left on the bus. This means that the perpetrators have no weapon if caught. Thus, they will be equipped with grenade that can be inserted at the waist... If something unforeseen happens, the perpetrator may use the grenade to martyr himself and to kill or injure the security people.  

Joe Frost

With the backpacks unchecked and security waving the Bridegrooms through to enter Bali, the grenades instead would provide added devastation when the time came. 

The day of October 1, 2005, the Bridegrooms knew how to dress, when to travel and what to do when they arrived at their respective destinations. 

As for an escape plan? 

Azhari Husin

There is no escape plan because the perpetrators will become martyrs. They will go to the targets and not return. 

Joe Frost

The Bridegrooms’ final hours were accounted for by the minute. 

At 5:25pm, the trio would check out of their accommodation and travel to Kuta via moto-taxi. Having arrived in the city centre, at 6:15pm they were to pray for the final time.  

Following their prayers, the three set out for the restaurants; Hidayat travelled the short distance to Raja’s cafe on foot, while Salik and Misno covered the 7 or so kms south to Jimbaran by moto.  

All three were in place by 7:20, their backpacks armed and ready, as they assessed the respective eateries for what would be “the optimal position”.  

The final entry reads:  

“At 7.34.12pm - In the optimal place pull out the direct switch. ALLAHU AKBAR!’’ 

God is great. 

Act 3: Bang 

Joe Frost

Located on the southwestern coast of Bali, Jimbaran Beach is a white-sand paradise around 4 or so kilometres in length. 

But where Kuta is known for its surfing, Jimbaran receives a bountiful supply of fresh-caught fare each day, making this stretch of sand famous for its seafood restaurants, known as warungs.  

Arguably even more famous than the food is the view. The beach faces due west into the Indian Ocean, providing a daily opportunity to see one of the most stunning sunsets on the planet. 

The view is the star of the show, so dining is an open-air affair. Dozens of tables sit directly on the sand, with no walls to separate or distinguish one Warung from the next. On that busy Saturday evening in 2005, hundreds of people from all over world were sitting at tables on the sands of Jimbaran Bay.  

Team Newcastle – now a group of 18 people who had got back on the bus – were seated at the southern end of the strip of tables, with servers and food coming down onto the sand from a Warung called Cafe Nyoman.  

Julia Lederwasch

We were all talking about who was going to sit where because if you sat looking that way, at the water, you would see the sunset. So some people would see it and some people would have their back to it... And that ended up being very significant, where people sat…  

So we’re all sitting there and I really remember waiting for someone to serve us. And no one did, I thought it was a bit odd – not too odd – but we went up to the bar and ordered our own drinks... But it took ages for anyone to take our order and I didn’t realise that that was really different until when I got back and I was talking to people back here and they went ‘they’re usually all over you, you know to get money’ and I went, ‘nup.’  

‘What about all hawks on the beach?’  

‘No there weren’t any, no one came to the table trying to sell us anything.’  

I didn’t know that that was unusual, but I was told that later. 

But I remember sitting there for a long, long time pretty hungry. I don’t know if we did eat to be honest. 

I do remember going to the bathroom, which was a bit away from the table, and coming back and wondering why we were still waiting.  

Joe Frost

While the food had not arrived, drinks had – and, waiting for maybe an hour or so, I was not the only person to have ordered a second beverage.  

So there we were, at a tabletop covered with bottles and glass tumblers, when a sound to northern end of the beach shattered the jovial atmosphere. 

Bang.  

I remember distinctly that was the sound. Not a long, stretched-out 'boom’, just a short, percussive bang; over as soon as it began, a deafening handclap of terror. 

Immediately the beach was thrown into disarray, people screaming and running.  

Julia Lederwasch

I remember hearing an explosion and I looked at Aleta and she was really startled because she was quite heightened about activity. I remember looking and I saw Vicky Griffiths and they went ‘Oh it’s probably a gas barbecue’ because there was a whole string of… 

Then Aleta, looked at her and she looked really panicked and so my instinct was just calm down. My instinct was to get under the table because I thought it could maybe not be a barbecue but I thought get under the table, but she just looked and she had a real look of fear on her face and she started to run.  

So I was like, ‘oh my God, I don’t know where she’s going to stop’, because I think we were the last restaurant. And I ran after her.

Joe Frost 

Aleta remembers the incident the same way, although to her, her actions were rational rather than panicked. 

Aleta Lederwasch

When I heard the first explosion, my immediate thoughts became incredibly rational and I'm, I would say I'm not the most rational person – in terms of, I'm a lot more emotive and a bit dreamy, and yeah, as I said, trusting so it was... It was a very unusual way for my mind to go and I just remember very black and white thinking of, ‘an explosion's just gone off’ and I could hear other parents at the table saying, you know, ‘BBQ explosion, don't, you know, don't panic.’ You know? 

But there's no food in front of me. We had a big group of white people. We have no one to our left, it just makes sense to run. And so I did. I just – and I do remember thinking, ‘some people might think I'm crazy and scared, but I don't care’ – and I just pelted as fast as I could. 

Joe Frost

Jenny Pillar had a similar reaction to Aleta. 

Jenny Pillar

That’s when the fight or flight kicked in, cos I was like, I just wanted to take off. And I pushed the chair back and Eric was like, ‘it’s OK’, like he was trying to calm me down, saying that he thought – cos we were fascinated by those gas bottles and electric wires. And like, something’s exploded, meaning a gas bottle. And I was just like absolutely, like, going crazy, I didn’t know what was going on. And I pushed my way back and climbed underneath the end of the table and was protecting myself from anything else happening. And he came to get me.  

Joe Frost

Kim and Vicky Griffiths tried to maintain an air of calm. 

Kim Griffiths

I told people, ‘it’s probably a gas bottle exploding at the other restaurant’ that first one, ‘but we probably should go.’ 

Vicki Griffiths 

And then Jenny was under the table, screaming. 

Kim Griffiths

We’re trying to get her out and some other people said, ‘I think I’ll just stay and have another drink or something’ and Aleta and Julia run down the beach... 

Vicki just said, ‘I’ll see what the others are doing’, and I said, ‘get your bag…’ 

Vicki Griffiths 

 … Yeah you said ‘get your bag’. 

Kim Griffiths

‘Get your bag, we’re going.’ 

Joe Frost

For my part, I sprung to my feet, my fight or flight response screaming that now was the time to get the hell out of there. 

I wasn’t buying the line about a gas bottle exploding. But some mix of hubris, ignorance and uncertainty kept me rooted to the spot, looking north towards the chaos.  

Honestly, I had a moment of thrill. Wow. Here I was in a moment of history. When I got home, I would tell my mates how I’d been there when that one bomb went off in Bali.  

So I gripped the top of my chair, feeling secure in the knowledge that at least I was on my feet – if something were to happen, I figured I had the option to run.  

To my immediate left, Paul Anicich had made his way around the table to stand behind his wife. Penny Anicich was still in her seat, Paul’s hands now resting protectively on her shoulders.  

I didn’t look in the other direction, simply because that’s not the direction the first blast had come from.  

Had I looked, I would have seen Fiona and Colin Zwolinski, who were sitting to my right. Perhaps they were in a similar tableau to that of Penny and Paul.  

And I would have seen an Indonesian man in his 20s approaching our table, wearing a plain t-shirt and shorts, a backpack strapped to his body.  

Maybe I would have even heard Salik Firdaus’ final words: “Allahu Akbar!”  

Instead, facing the other direction, I simply heard one, eardrum-destroying sound. 

Bang.