This past January 3rd I wrote about a situation which I will include here now, as I followed up on the story yesterday:
January 3rd:
We continue on down the street to find a farmhouse where a bomb from the nightly attacks the US has hit, via Operation Iron Grip.
In this Albu Aitha area of Al-Dora, it is nothing but farmers and wide-open fields, lined with rows of palm trees.
Just beside an old stone house here, an older man points out a large crater, shrapnel scars marking the front of the home and huge chunks ripped out of a nearby palm tree.
The family had been eating dinner two nights ago and the bombing began. They were in a nearby room from area near the strike, or they would have been hit by shattered glass and shrapnel from the explosion.
Hamid Salman Halwan Matar, the owner of the home, said, “Two nights ago they bombed here from 6-9 pm, then resumed it again at 4 am. I think it was jets shooting missiles, because I could hear the engines. Last night they bombed some more in this area. I suppose they think resistance fighters are hiding in the fields here.”
His wife tells us her children are afraid of any noise now, and have trouble sleeping at night. The family hasn’t slept in their home since the bombing 2 nights ago, for fear of another strike on their home.
“We don’t know why they bomb our house and our fields. We have never resisted the Americans. There are foreign fighters (from another area in Iraq) who have passed through here, and I think this is who they want. But why are they bombing us?”
U.S. Army Brig. Gen. Mark Kimmitt told reporters Friday that Operation Iron Grip in this area sends “a very clear message to anybody who thinks that they can run around Baghdad without worrying about the consequences of firing RPG’s, firing mortars. There is a capability in the air that can quickly respond against anybody who would want to harm Iraqi citizens or coalition forces."
The family took us out into their nearby fields to show us a plethora of unexploded mortar rounds. The white bombs are sticking halfway out of the hardened mud as children play around them, pointing to them with excitement.
I count 9 small tails of the mortar rounds sticking into the air in this small section of the field.
Mr. Shakr, the brother of the man whose home was struck by a bomb, points to a distant hill and says, “The Americans shot mortars at us from there. You can see the crater where one exploded, but here are the rest. We had been told the Americans only use sound bombs here, but now we know different.”
He goes on to say it was two nights ago when the Americans shot mortars at their fields behind their home, from 6:30-10 pm, then again at 4 am.
We asked if the family had requested that the Americans come remove the unexploded ordnance.
Mr. Shakr, with a very troubled look, said, “We asked them the first time and they said ‘OK, we’ll come take care of it.’ But they never came. We asked them the second time and they told us they would not remove them until we gave them a resistance fighter. They told us, ‘If you won’t give us a resistance fighter, we are not coming to remove the bombs.’”
He holds his hands in the air and says, “But we don’t know any resistance fighters!”
He grows somber, and quietly says, “We will have to leave this land because we cannot farm our fields with bombs in them.”
Yesterday, April 22 -- I revisit the family. The mother of the family tells me that the bombs ended up being removed by local Iraqis who tied ropes on them and pulled them out themselves, several of them exploding as they did so.
Prior to this, soldiers had searched the area and instructed the family that they would not be removing the bombs, as they had been fired by the mujahedeen. This, of course, directly contradicted what the soldier at the nearby U.S. base had previously told the family.
They have been able to resume farming now. As with Arab custom, we are offered something -- some fresh goat milk, which my interpreter and I drink from a metal bowl. Little children stare at us, then one of the little girls walks towards the field with a sack over her back.
Her mother turns to us and says, “We hope the Americans don’t come back here. We just want to be left alone.”
Dahr Jamail is Baghdad correspondent for The NewStandard. He is an Alaskan devoted to covering the untold stories from occupied Iraq. You can help Dahr continue his crucial work in Iraq by making donations. For more information or to donate to Dahr, visit The NewStandard.
