In the rubble of Falluja

am at the RC information office in Baghdad, waiting to travel to Falluja with an RC convoy. An old man walks in and takes a picture of a young man from his pocket. It is his son, Raad Maoloud. The father thinks he has been killed in Falluja, and he wants to know if the Red Crescent has come across his body or buried it. Another man walks in with photos of a son and two brothers, asking similar questions.

I remember Umm Omar, my neighbour, who still carries the picture of Omar, her son, who went missing in 1983, during the war with Iran. My reverie is interrupted by the voice of Haytham Said, a volunteer, announcing that RC teams have evacuated 275 bodies which are now preserved in refrigerators. The photos will be of little help. Most of the bodies are decomposed and the families have to try and remember the clothes their relatives were wearing.

According to well-informed sources, 600 bodies or so are still lying under the rubble in Falluja. Others have been dismembered by dogs, thrown in the river, or completely decomposed. Most buildings and markets have been destroyed. The city has no electricity, drinking water, telephone service, or sewage network.

Our trip begins at 9am. The man leading the mission, RC chief Dr Said Hiqqi, tells me that the RC is trying to supply the people with the basic necessities. They have set up Crescent House as a hostel for the displaced and the homeless, and they are evacuating women, children, and old people who wish to leave the city, and moving patients to hospitals. The RC entered Falluja only a few days ago. Since then, it has evacuated 17 women and children, and more are to follow.

Within less than half an hour, our convoy arrives at a US checkpoint near the Abu Ghraib prison, now infamous as a US base and detention facility. Dozens of floodlights are still on, even though it's broad daylight. And this, at a time when Baghdad is under electricity rationing (two hours on, six hours off). Our convoy consists of 33 employees and volunteers, six ambulances, and a relief truck, the latter carrying supplies and drinking water. The vehicles are clearly marked with the RC flag.

I don't expect the convoy to be stopped, as it bears the flag of a neutral international organisation. But instead we do stop, for a long time. Permits have to be obtained. The convoy vehicles and passengers are searched. Then we wait some more. A truck arrives carrying bedding, food, and a sign reading "Relief to Falluja the steadfast". The truck is turned back.

Two hours into the waiting, three mortar shells, perhaps meant for the prison, land near us in the dust. Another hour passes, then finally permission is given and the convoy begins to move. In the past, the journey from Baghdad to Falluja used to take 45 minutes. We have an escort of Marine military vehicles. They keep their distance from the convoy in order to reduce the likelihood of our cars being attacked.

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http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2004/719/fr2.htm