Living through a death sentence

For once the ice-cold interior of the Hamurabi office building is a welcome refuge from the outside. I dashed back to my house; adrenalin runs high; heart beats quickly as I navigate through the fortified hard houses that long-term staff occupies on the compound. Instead of the direct route I normally take home I find myself snaking as much as possible, at times even entering other quads, adding precious concrete barriers between myself and the exterior walls.

The sounds are unmistakable, "rrrrrrratatatatatatatatatata" sounds the AK47, "rat-duht-duht-duht-duht" come the much deeper, evenly-spaced 50-caliber's response. In my ten months in Baghdad, one of the many things I have come to understand is that the latter is what they call "outgoing", generally a good thing. But when it happens in response to massive celebratory fire, it doesn't seem as effective as its normal silencing of misleading AK fire we experience at night from time to time.

And so, as with so many other random dates, today is in itself again a historic moment for Iraq. Saddam Hussein was convicted mere minutes ago for his role in the 1982 killing of 148 Shi'a villagers in the town of Dujail. The sentence passed down from the judge is that he will be hanged for his crimes, something he protested against instead demanding death by firing squad as a "military man", and not hanging like a "criminal".

The Regional Security Office at the embassy issued a precautionary mandate that all employees should be wearing their Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) when moving around outside on the compound outside, hence my necessary dash home. Everyone in the office is quite; the air conditioner is pleasantly cooling, not much discussion going on…

Earlier, a couple of Iraqi colleagues came into the dining hall with huge smiles on their faces, one of them, an attractive young man that works in motorpool indicated the international sign for "he's dead" by slicing his finger across the front of his neck exclaiming "finally, it's over". I asked him if he thought something was going to happen. He said "you mean something bad?"

smiling again, he added

"…no, of course not, the shooting outside is for the happiness".

So on that "happy" note, I'll keep my flack jacket and helmet on for good measure. "



A Few Hours Later.......


Just an update on the situation in Baghdad...in the scheme of things it was a relatively quiet day - even the celebratory fire was actually less than that which happens after a good football game in Baghdad. I do hear a lot of air traffic overhead tonight in what I can only imagine is continued surveillance of the volatile city. Please keep our Iraqi friends and neighbors in your thoughts and prayers.