Friday, April 4, 2003
American Soldiers, at the Behest of an Iraqi Officer, Topple a Hussein Statue
NAJAF, Iraq, April 3 — At one end of the city, the Tomb of Ali, son-in-law of the Prophet Muhammad, occupies a place of honor that has been revered by Shiite Muslims for centuries. And dominating the four-lane boulevard approaching the holy site is a monument loathed by the Shiites for a decade: a gigantic bronze statue of Saddam Hussein on a horse, seeming to dare posterity to set its gaze on his grandeur.
In a couple of hours today, a handful of American soldiers proved it was possible to topple Mr. Hussein. Officially, the demolition was carried out at the behest of an Iraqi Army colonel leading several dozen Iraqi soldiers who styled themselves the Coalition of Iraqi National Unity.
The actual razing of the statue, however, was a production of United States Army engineers.
"Six Bangalore torpedoes," Sgt. Kris Catts, 23, said, reciting the explosive recipe he used. "Eight blocks of C-4. One M-12 — that's shock tube, it'll detonate when you push the button. One M-11, another shock tube. One M-14, a timer fuse, set for five minutes. Two M-81 fuse igniters, in case the shock tube doesn't blow. Fifty feet of detonation cord."
Sergeant Catts made a ladder out of rope and pulled himself 20 feet up the marble pedestal on which the statue stood, guided from the ground by Sgt. Shawn Love. The explosives were passed up by rope to Sergeant Catts by Sergeant Love and Cpl. Francisco Santiago.
"This statue will come down," said Sergeant Love.
That prospect drew crowds. The Hussein monument is in one of the few verdant patches in this city of 400,000, where other than the golden domes of the mosques, the poured concrete architecture stretches into grindingly dusty vistas, interrupted only by broken glass, or crumbled buildings.
There is little public art other than elaborate portraits of Mr. Hussein, which appear on government buildings, sometimes with him depicted firing his rifle into the sky, other times just gazing into the distance. Many of these seem to have taken a beating in the last few days.
As the engineers strapped explosives to the legs of the horse that Mr. Hussein sat astride, Army tanks blocked entry to the boulevard. Hundreds of men and boys crowded on nearby street corners.
The blast, when it came, was met with rousing cheers.
The horse and its rider were sent hurtling off the pedestal, crashing to the base. Then the Iraqi colonel and his men began speaking over a loudspeaker, proclaiming an uprising against Mr. Hussein's government. When they were finished, residents snapped pictures of friends on top of the pile of ruins of the statue, or posed with the soldiers. Then came questions for the nearest available Americans.[...]
In a couple of hours today, a handful of American soldiers proved it was possible to topple Mr. Hussein. Officially, the demolition was carried out at the behest of an Iraqi Army colonel leading several dozen Iraqi soldiers who styled themselves the Coalition of Iraqi National Unity.
The actual razing of the statue, however, was a production of United States Army engineers.
"Six Bangalore torpedoes," Sgt. Kris Catts, 23, said, reciting the explosive recipe he used. "Eight blocks of C-4. One M-12 — that's shock tube, it'll detonate when you push the button. One M-11, another shock tube. One M-14, a timer fuse, set for five minutes. Two M-81 fuse igniters, in case the shock tube doesn't blow. Fifty feet of detonation cord."
Sergeant Catts made a ladder out of rope and pulled himself 20 feet up the marble pedestal on which the statue stood, guided from the ground by Sgt. Shawn Love. The explosives were passed up by rope to Sergeant Catts by Sergeant Love and Cpl. Francisco Santiago.
"This statue will come down," said Sergeant Love.
That prospect drew crowds. The Hussein monument is in one of the few verdant patches in this city of 400,000, where other than the golden domes of the mosques, the poured concrete architecture stretches into grindingly dusty vistas, interrupted only by broken glass, or crumbled buildings.
There is little public art other than elaborate portraits of Mr. Hussein, which appear on government buildings, sometimes with him depicted firing his rifle into the sky, other times just gazing into the distance. Many of these seem to have taken a beating in the last few days.
As the engineers strapped explosives to the legs of the horse that Mr. Hussein sat astride, Army tanks blocked entry to the boulevard. Hundreds of men and boys crowded on nearby street corners.
The blast, when it came, was met with rousing cheers.
The horse and its rider were sent hurtling off the pedestal, crashing to the base. Then the Iraqi colonel and his men began speaking over a loudspeaker, proclaiming an uprising against Mr. Hussein's government. When they were finished, residents snapped pictures of friends on top of the pile of ruins of the statue, or posed with the soldiers. Then came questions for the nearest available Americans.[...]
F#$& you and the horse you rode in on. Bye Saddam, bye Chemical Ali.
Minsiters aren't supposed to say F#@$ You- But when I watched the clip of Saddam on his horse going to statue heaven I just couldn't help myself.
I clapped when I heard the news that Chemical Ali is no longer with us.
I'm not feeling very penitent right now either.