From the Guardian:
Some people freeze, most run. I run. Away from the sound – a sharp, terrifying crack. Jesus. A militiaman’s gun has gone off accidentally, I think. A few steps up towards the speaker’s platform, away from the crowd, away from the gunshot, I glance back down. Martin Adler, the Swedish cameraman, clutching his side, falling. A few more steps. Martin is on the ground. His white shirt is stained with red. Flemming, his Danish photographer friend, is hunched over him.
That picture is so clear, even now, four days on. Perfectly composed – Martin lying still, Flemming crouched over him, looking skywards in shock. Both men in focus in the middle of the frame, everything around them a blur, overexposed.
Here.