- "With my own eyes I saw about fifteen civilians
killed in two days. I've gone through enough wars to know that it's always
dirty, that civilians are always the first victims. But the way it was
happening here, it was insane. . . . Distraught soldiers were saying: 'I
ain't prepared for this, I didn't come here to shoot civilians.'"
-
- Laurent Van der Stockt, a photographer working for the
Gamma agency and under contract for the New York Times Magazine, followed
the advance of the 3/4 Marines (3rd battalion, 4th regiment) for three
weeks, up to the taking of Baghdad on April 9. He was accompanied by New
York Times Magazine editor, Peter Maas. Born in Belgium in 1964, Laurent
Van der Stockt mainly works in conflict zones: the first Gulf War, Yugoslavia,
Afghanistan, Chechnya, Africa and the Occupied Territories. This is his
eyewitness account of the Marines' march to Baghdad:
-
- "Everything began at the Kuwait/Iraq border. I forced
my way into the country and arrived at Safwan. American soldiers had seized
the opportunity to tear up portraits of Saddam Hussein on the main street.
They were doing this right in front of the local inhabitants, whose elation
quickly vanished. The soldiers obviously didn't imagine that it was up
to the Iraqis to be doing this, or that it was humiliating for them. These
were the same soldiers who would topple down Saddam's statue in Baghdad
three weeks later...
-
- I understood that the Marines' general strategy was to
not waste any time. In the cities they crossed, the Marines had to make
a show of force. Then they would resume their advance by going as fast
as possible up by the east through the desert, and avoid any contact with
the population. It takes an effort to picture what an army looks like as
it advances through the sands. It's an anthill. It's more than a city on
the march. It's a world whose extremities are never seen. It's a cutting
edge, mechanical version of Julius Caesar's army.
-
- During the first few days, with colleagues from the New
York Times and Newsweek, I tried to follow the convoys in a SUV by playing
hide-and-seek. We were spending a lot of time then with the 1 500 Marines
of the _, commanded by Colonel Bryan P. McCoy. His troops gave us water,
gas and food. In exchange for their tolerance, we respected the rules to
not pass the convoy and to camp at such and such a place. We were just
barely tolerated. The colonel could see that the 'few jokers were behaving
well'. He knew we had experienced more wars than his own troops.
-
- For McCoy, we were obviously interesting right from the
start. We were the ones who could tell his story. Trust settled in between
us. He let us drive at the head of the convoy. The Marines are generally
less privileged than the army. They're trained to do the dirty work, the
less honorary jobs. They have the oldest tanks, and the least up-to-date
M16 rifles. They themselves translate 'USMC' (United States Marine Corps)
by United States Misgodded Children, i.e. the US' forgotten children, forgotten
by God.
-
- Their motto is 'Search and Kill'. The 'Kilo' unit is
nicknamed 'Killer Kilo'. The words 'Carnivore' or 'Blind Killer' are painted
on their tanks. McCoy could snap with a 'Shame on You' - a smile flashing
across his face - to the sniper who had just finished telling him: 'I've
got eight, Sir, but only five'. Literally meaning: I've shot eight, but
only five of them are dead.
-
- I've never seen a war with so few 'returns'. The Iraqi
army was like a ghost. It barely existed. Over the three weeks, I only
saw the adversary fire a few short-range rockets and a few shots. I saw
deserted trenches, a dead Iraqi soldier lying next to a piece of bread
and some old equipment. Nothing that really made you feel that there was
a real confrontation going on, nothing comparable to the massiveness of
the means at the Americans' disposal.
-
- On April 6, we were at the outskirts of Baghdad, facing
a strategic bridge the Americans called 'the Baghdad Highway Bridge'. Residential
zones were now much greater in number. American snipers got the order to
kill anything coming in their direction. That night a teenager who was
crossing the bridge was killed.
-
- On the morning of April 7, the Marines decided to cross
the bridge. A shell fell onto an armored personnel carrier. Two marines
were killed. The crossing took on a tragic aspect. The soldiers were stressed,
febrile. They were shouting. The risk didn't appear to be that great, so
I followed their advance. They were howling, shouting orders and positions
to each other. It sounded like something in-between a phantasm, mythology
and conditioning. The operation was transformed into crossing the bridge
over the River Kwai.
-
- Later, there was some open terrain. The Marines were
advancing and taking up position, hiding behind mounds of earth. They were
still really tense. A small blue van was moving towards the convoy. Three
not-very-accurate warning shots were fired. The shots were supposed to
make the van stop. The van kept on driving, made a U-turn, took shelter
and then returned slowly. The Marines opened fire. All hell broke loose.
They were firing all over the place. You could hear 'Stop firing' being
shouted. The silence that set in was overwhelming. Two men and a woman
had just been riddled with bullets. So this was the enemy, the threat.
-
- A second vehicle drove up. The same scenario was repeated.
Its passengers were killed on the spot. A grandfather was walking slowly
with a cane on the sidewalk. They killed him too (SEE PHOTO IN LE MONDE).
As with the old man, the Marines fired on a SUV driving along the river
bank that was getting too close to them. Riddled with bullets, the vehicle
rolled over. Two women and a child got out, miraculously still alive. They
sought refuge in the wreckage. A few seconds later, it flew into bits as
a tank lobbed a terse shot into it.
-
- Marines are conditioned to reach their target at any
cost, by staying alive and facing any type of enemy. They abusively make
use of disproportionate firepower. These hardened troops, followed by tons
of equipment, supported by extraordinary artillery power, protected by
fighter jets and cutting-edge helicopters, were shooting on local inhabitants
who understood absolutely nothing of what was going on.
-
- With my own eyes I saw about fifteen civilians killed
in two days. I've gone through enough wars to know that it's always dirty,
that civilians are always the first victims. But the way it was happening
here, it was insane.
-
- At the roughest moment, the most humane of the troops
was called Doug. He gave real warning shots. From 800 yards he could hit
a tire and, if that wasn't enough, then the motor. He saved ten lives in
two hours by driving back civilians who were coming towards us.
-
- Distraught soldiers were saying: 'I ain't prepared for
this, I didn't come here to shoot civilians.' The colonel countered that
the Iraqis were using inhabitants to kill marines, that 'soldiers were
being disguised as civilians, and that ambulances were perpetrating terrorist
attacks.'
-
- I drove away a girl who had had her humerus pierced by
a bullet. Enrico was holding her in his arms. In the rear, the girl's father
was protecting his young son, wounded in the torso and losing consciousness.
The man spoke in gestures to the doctor at the back of the lines, pleading:
"I don't understand, I was walking and holding my children's hands.
Why didn't you shoot in the air? Or at least shoot me?"
-
- In Baghdad, McCoy sped up the march. He stopped taking
the time to search houses one-by-one. He wanted to get to Paradise Place
as soon as possible. The Marines were not firing on the thickening population.
The course ended with Saddam's statue being toppled. There were more journalists
at the scene than Baghdadis. Its five million inhabitants stayed at home."
-
- http://www.counterpunch.org/guerrin04162003.html
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