GREATER FEAR
Some of the most interesting parts of NYT war coverage are buried at the ends of stories. From Craig Smith's story today, datelined Zubayr
At the local hospital, a dark-skinned man with deep-set eyes grimaced in pain in a hallway, an arm wrapped in layers of gauze. He said his brother had been decapitated by a British tank round as the two men were trying to drive out of town to escape the fighting at the start of the war. Though the hospital has been without electricity or water for more than a week, uneasy doctors and nurses evade reporters' questions, repeating that they are doing fine and are in need of nothing.
Later, a young intern named Mustafa caught up with a reporter outside the hospital to say that the hospital was running out of medicine and critical supplies but that the people there dare not tell the truth.
"The director of the hospital has orders from Basra not to accept any help from the allied forces or aid agencies and to tell anyone who asks that we have everything we need," he said.
He said that the director was following the orders out of fear that if he did not, the Baath Party would send someone to kill him.
The water engineer, in his home, offered a guest a frosty tumbler of ice water and explained that the town was still without electricity because the workers at the nearby power plant were afraid to turn it on for fear of Baathist retribution. He said that before the invasion, Baath Party officials warned everyone not to cooperate with the American and British armies in areas that fell under allied control.
The engineer said he was part of a team of about 20 from the local water bureau who have returned to work, using generators to run the water station that feeds the town. The generators allow them to supply about three-quarters of the town with water on alternating days, he said.
He said that he was doing it because without water "the number of people who will die from typhoid and cholera will be more than from any bombs," but that he lives without protection and worries that his work will cost him his life.
"I'm afraid they will knock on the door and kill me," he said. "No matter what we say, you have no idea how scared we are."
He pleaded with a reporter visiting his home to leave quickly and not to ask more questions. "When Basra falls," he said, "your newspaper will not be fat enough to hold all of the stories we have to tell."