Donald Trump's rally seemed to have tight security, but we hit the ground when shots rang out

By Phoebe Hosier in Butler, Pennsylvania, ABC News

First person - We came for the spectacle, to witness the man who's dominated headlines and reshaped American politics in the flesh. We left frazzled and shell-shocked.

Stumbling out of the airstrip with a sea of Trump supporters, an avalanche of disjointed thoughts ricocheted around my head.

Had we really just witnessed an attempted assassination of former US president Donald Trump?

I blinked into the crowd of panicked punters, the sound of gunshots still sounding in my head.

Even as I write this now, I can viscerally recall the moment I realised there was a live possibility that my partner Sam and I could be shot at any second in an open field under the scorching sun in rural Pennsylvania.

The realisation hit me in the centre of my chest and left me paralysed with fear.

Here is what I can recall of the chaotic events that unfolded.

Security seemed tight. Then the shots rang out

It was 3pm and sweat was dripping down the back of my legs. We were standing in a line for security that seemingly had no end.

We queued alongside an area known as "side show alley" - a name aptly given by stall holders from across the country cashing in on the travelling circus that comes with Trump rallies.

MAGA merch lined the tables. Images of Trump depicted as a hyper-masculine strong man were everywhere - on tables, tees, flags and fridge magnets. There was Trump as Rambo and Trump the Terminator.

"I'd rather vote for a felon than a jackass," read one slogan tee - his criminal record worn as a literal badge of honour.

Eventually, we were herded through airport-style metal detectors while a Secret Service officer inspected the few belongings we were permitted to bring in with us.

Bags and purses were strictly prohibited - not even coloured water bottles were allowed because security guards could not tell what was inside them.

We weaved through the crowd until we reached a spot about 50 metres from the front, where a clear view of the podium could be seen from my tiptoes.

The crowd around me was mixed. An elderly couple stood to my left. Behind me, a mum chatted with her teenage daughters, their cheeks striped with face paint. Before me was a group of shirtless men in chains and mullets.

On a nearby roof beyond the podium, snipers set up to the cheers of the waiting crowd.

"F*** Joe Biden," the crowd chanted in taunting sing-song. Overhead, a massive American flag billowed in the scorching wind.

When the man himself finally appeared on stage, the crowd erupted.

A sea of sunburnt necks craned to catch a glimpse of their preferred president - or "Trumpy" as a woman behind me affectionately referred to him.

The moment the bullet pierced Trump's ear

Trump had just begun his spiel about immigration, pointing to a graph on the big screens that he said shows a spike in "illegal aliens", or undocumented migrants, who have crossed America's southern borders during Joe Biden's time in office.

"Shoot 'em, shoot 'em all," a man to my right shouted.

Then, mere moments later, actual shots ring out. Pop, pop, pop. The sound came from a distance somewhere to the left of us.

"What was that?" everyone asked themselves silently.

A current of anxiety rippled through the crowd. Some were confused, others alert. All of us listening.

Then - the unmistakable sound of gunfire- this time from Secret Service snipers on the roof nearby.

Screams. We crouched down and clutched ourselves. I was wide-eyed. Mute. I had absolutely no idea what was happening.

A boy jumped up and bolted past us for the exit.

I was stuck, paralysis, terror and confusion muddied together. For a moment I was not sure I could speak at all. I looked at Sam, he was an ocean of calm.

Women were screaming and holding themselves not far from me. Had they been shot? Could we be shot, too, if we did not move now? I could not discern if they were screaming out in pain or fear.

Paralysis, terror and confusion muddied together.

Then, in a beat, the mood took another dive.

Men to my right hauled themselves to their feet in rage. They could not have known that the threat had subsided, but they did not seem to care. They were enraged. Enraged that someone would try to shoot their beloved president.

For many of these Americans, Trump is not just their political hero - he is a Messiah, a strong man, and a truth-teller. Now - a survivor. And almost a martyr.

A woman selling MAGA shirts who I met earlier in the day told me God was "with" Donald Trump. If that is what she thought then, I could only imagine what she thinks of him now.

Several seconds passed and I was still crouched down, unable to move.

My body was screaming at me to get out of there but I was stuck. People around me were either screaming out in fear, in a fit of rage, or hardly reacting to what had just unfolded.

I found the latter the most chilling of all.

"Of course, this happened in Pennsylvania," I heard a woman say, only half-joking.

Suddenly people were on their feet again. Jubilation. Chants broke out in celebration of Trump's survival.

I look to Sam. He is an ocean of calm. He had seen it all: the Secret Service agent diving on the former president, Trump resurrecting, bloody and defiant, his fist in the air like a trophy.

The crowd erupted again, this time in jubilation.

"USA, USA, USA," the crowd chanted.

'What the hell has this country come to?'

When I finally regained the ability to speak, I turned to Sam: "Let's get the f*** out of here," I said.

People began dispersing. Some were stumbling and crying, their arms around their loved ones. Others were strolling out of there like nothing had happened.

"Did Trump get shot?" I heard a woman ask as we streamed past the fence.

Up ahead, another woman was hysterical.

Her fiance said she witnessed a man get shot in the stomach just metres from her - Corey Comperatore, a former firefighter in the crowd, who was caught in the crossfire during the shooting.

We also passed a woman crying into her phone.

"I can't find Kelsey," she shrieked.

The rest was all a blur of sadness and devastation.

Sam led me out of the chaos. We later stopped at a petrol station not far from the venue.

News of the shooting had begun to filter out into the world. A man got out of the four-wheel drive parked next to us and slammed the door.

"I mean I can't stand the man but no one deserves to be shot at," he said to a woman who followed him into the petrol station.

"What the hell has this country come to?"

- ABC