A little after 2 a.m., in the small town of ad Dawr, south of Tikrit, Captain Ahmed of the Iraqi army was leading his troops on one of their regular arrest raids. Half a dozen men from one particular house were dragged out, hands bound with plastic flexi-cuffs, and lined up. But the man they’d come for wasn’t there.
‘Listen, donkey-f—”,’ said Captain Ahmed, addressing the head of the household, ‘I know your eldest son is with the terrorists because he keeps sniping at my men.’ Pointing his Kalashnikov at the abject row of detainees, he continued: ‘And if you don’t bring him down to the JSC [Joint Command Centre], I’ll be back here tomorrow night and I’ll shoot every last one of you fâ”s.’
The US officer relating this story gave a wry smile. ‘And guess what? The next day the old man arrives at the JSC â” with his son two steps behind.’
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