When I got to the room, Dalibor was not there. A huge explosion shook the ground. Unbeknownst to me then, the hotel was hit twice. The seriousness of the situation started to sink in. I decided to go down to the lobby and air raid shelter. I started to walk toward the main staircase through the hotel corridor full of dust. Suddenly, visibility was back. I was staring at an enormous cavity. That escape route was cut off. I started to feel panicky.
Walking in the opposite direction, I located what I presumed were the service stairs, but that, too, sustained heavy damage. About half of the stairs were gone, but surrealistically stair railings were hanging between floors. I climbed down using the railing as an impromptu ladder, and by some miracle I reached the ground floor.
Eventually I found my way to the cellar. Some people who were already there, informed me that the cellar was not bomb proof and if hit we'd be buried alive. What followed were hours of sheer terror. I imagine soldiers are exposed to something like that on the battlefield, but I was not a trained soldier. I was scared. In a situation like this with no prior exposure, I suppose self preservation takes over and rationalization no longer kicks in.