When they were finally dragged up from their shield positions and slung into the back of a waiting, older, fatter, more ideological soldier crammed jeep (anyone staying in the force long enough into their thirties is in it from their depths) one had blood trickling from his nose, he was covered in just-eaten dust, one of his legs appeared to be dislocated; another had his flies undone, skin and hair showing out, and another was marked with boot/fist dents.

Sousan, they were holding Sousan as go-between/hostage - calling her by her name, beckoning her, letting her stand up and watch what was going on, telling her to shut-up, come-go. The soldiers told me to fuck off, but I told them I wasn't going anywhere, khalas (enough). They then brought out three young girls - aged 4, 9, 12, plus a large highly distressed, dehydrated, woman, groaning and stumbling, white congealed spittle settled in the corners of her mouth. 'Hospital, take me to la hospital' she was saying, in English. They were ordered to sit beside the soldiers, backs up against the wall, Uskoot (Shut it/Quiet). The girls were wide-eyed with shock. Bullets were flying overhead. A sound grenade was exploding behind us, the jeeps were growling sporadically.

The fighters were stuttering out their AK47 bullet bursts, bouncing off the tops of the jeeps before us, the kids were fighting the newly appeared tank and APC heading for the hospital. I sat down with the girls. The girls, the beside-herself woman, now throwing dust all over herself, invecting insults at the soldiers with her last, dehydrated breaths, and Sousan, were crying and wailing freely. At one point, one of the soldiers fired two shots and in a sing-song voice told me 'oh well, 2 children died today'.

Full article online here:
 http://www.enrager.net/ayn/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=29

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