Contact Douglas
Wars create mishaps. Civilians die. Intelligence is black and white and gray. War’s
cruelty kills civilians. 60-67% of deaths in World War II were civilians. Some battlefield
estimates indicate up to 90% of deaths are civilians in conflicts.
Bombs fell on Iraq in 1991. Laser guided missiles could target within inches. A bomb
shelter in west Baghdad was used by civilians during the Iranian-Iraqi war. Mostly women
and children sheltered from missiles and bombs. They followed the same sheltering during
Gulf War I. Especially with the bombings, they felt protected in Public Shelter 25.
At 0430 on the night of 13 February 1991, two GBU-27 Paveway III warheads of 910
kilos each penetrated three meters of reinforced concrete and blasted the inside of the
shelter. These bunker busters were nicknamed the Hammer. Laser missiles penetrate hard
targets. 408 people mostly women and children were incinerated.
The bombing accelerated a global reaction. It gave the USA military a jolt especially
the worst civilian death toll in Baghdad. Afterwards, all Baghdad bombings needed special
clearance. There were many questions about military intelligence. There were indications
the shelter was a military command and control center. Military vehicles were said to be
outside the concrete shelter during the day. Communications equipment may have been
around or nearby.
The Al Amiriyah bombing is studied in history. It was in a civilian area. Saddam
Hussein’s country was secretive and placing a military communications hub in the middle of
a civilian area was not an Iraqi mode of military strategy. There was intelligence at a basic
level of civilians present in or near the shelter. The Public Shelter 25 was well known by
many. There was no warning of the bombing. USA military intelligence didn’t classify it as a
priority target.
When I worked in Iraq in the Gulf War I aftermath, we discreetly drove to the square
concrete shelter. It was sizzling hot. No one was there. We walked around and entered. We
found our way to the roof and examined the entry hole of the two bombs. They pierced
three meters of reinforced concrete and blasted the insides. We continued down the stairs
to the lower level and walked around. We carried flashlights. My boss and a British NGO
lady accompanied me.
We starred at charred concrete walls with our flashlights. Our nostrils were
inundated with a musty charred smell. Not knowing what to encounter, we stepped down
to the bottom floor and staggered carefully. We grew fearful. Except for asking for pointing
the torch, we didn’t talk to each other. The coolness and darkness made us petrified.
The walls were coated with barbequed human remains. It was a weathered dark red
blood dried on concrete. Odd patterns of engraved anatomical parts skeletoned through
darkness. Charred burn spots sprinkled. Dark handprints appeared. Every bit on the wall was
smashed and crashed.
We felt not alone. A tingle came down our backbones. We heard distant voices and
felt a crushing nudge against our bodies. There was no light, only our torches. The coolness
of the lower floor made us cold. The walls whispered. Our minds emptied. We stepped
slowly.
We realized we roamed amidst souls. Someone exclaimed, let’s get out of here.
Without a word, we quickly scampered down the corridor and scrambled up the stairs. We
found the exit from sunlight pouring through. We were liberated returning to the Baghdad
heat and glorious sun rays. Two boys were playing football nearby which we were glad to
see. They greeted us warmly which relieved us.
We breathed a sigh of relief. Our return to light was liberating. Our British friend was
ashen. My boss turned around and said,
that was spooky.
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