March
29 – a long day for the twelve person convoy heading for Jordan
through the Western Iraqi desert from Baghdad. The morning began at
about 8am loading their three vehicles, one a GMC truck and the other
bright yellow taxis. The final touches of precaution were made, applying
tape crosses to the cars and gathering white towels to wave out the
windows. With hugs, waves, and tear, they headed off – nine members
of the Iraq Peace Team (two with Voices in the Wilderness and seven
members of the Christian Peacemaker Teams) along with two Japanese journalists
and a Korean peace activist. Nine of them were ordered out of Iraq by
the government, two chose to leave in order to be conduits of the stories
and lives they have encountered in Baghdad.
As
the group headed west in the early morning light, there was ample evidence
of the effects of US British bombing – downed bridges, destroyed
military and civilian vehicles strewn along the road. A few hours into
the trip, they began looking for gas. One station was bombed, another
abandoned… in desperation they stopped at a final vacant station,
tanks on empty, and were immediately joined by a van filled with Somalian
students leaving the University of Baghdad. Then another car joined
them. Imaginations began to collaborate, and the battery of the van
was used to run the gas pump so the tanks were all filled. And they
set off with renewed vigor. The roads became increasingly treacherous.
Bombed out buses, an incinerated ambulance… they swirved out of
the way of lightposts, car parts, and shrapnel.
Soon
they could see the gigantic smoke clouds from bomb hits, only seconds
old in the near horizon. One of them hit only about a kilometer away.
The drivers became increasingly tense, speeding up to about 80 mph to
minimize the likelihood of their becoming “collateral damage”
from this war. The last of the vehicles, which had fallen significantly
behind the others, suddenly had a tire burst, spinning the car out of
control. The car plunged into a 10 foot ditch, creating an immediate
impact and flipping it onto its side.
They
were able to open the doors on the top side of the vehicle and pull
everyone out. Everyone was bruised, badly shaken, but conscious, though
it was clear that Weldon was badly injured, and Cliff was bleeding profusely
from a large gash in his head. Shane’s left arm was hurt, Sang
Hyun’s face swollen, and the driver’s head and leg were
injured. The first thing they noticed was a car of Iraqi civilians that
had stopped to help them (it was the first car to pass, within one minute
of the accident). Without a second thought, they piled the 5 additional
passengers into their car and drove, and headed off to the nearest town.
Miraculously, a town called Rutpa was only minutes away, a city of about
20,000 people located about 150 km east of the Jordanian border. As
they drove to the hospital, the Iraqis pointed to a fighter jet in the
sky heading towards them, and he desperately grabbed a white sheet and
began waving it in the wind. The jet approached and began to turn away,
leaving a trail of smoke behind it. Arriving in the town, the group
was astounded to see that this civilian town, with no apparent military
structures had been devastated by US/British bombing. Before they could
get out of the car, doctors greeted them, and brought them into a small
clinic with 4 beds. The doctors (one of whom spoke fluent English!)
began immediately began taking care of them, apologizing for the severe
limitations and scarce medical supplies due to the sanctions. And he
explained that in the past week their town had been riddled with bombings
– the communications center, the Customs building… and then
with tears in his eyes he said: “Three days ago, they bombed the
children’s hospital.” One of them men pointed to the bombed
ruins only a hundred meters away. When they learned that several of
us were from the US, the head doctor asked: “WHY this? WHY? Why
is your government bombing us? Why?” In the same breath he added
with a dignified smile: “You are our brothers. We take care of
everyone – Christian, Muslim, Iraqi, American… it doesn’t
matter. We are all human beings, sisters and brothers.”
The
townspeople began to gather to inspect their foreign guests, growing
from a few curious neighbors to nearly thirty people. The IPT group
hastily offered a copy of the IPT handout, written in English and Arabic,
describing their mission in Iraq. One person came in and gave them blankets.
Another offered them water, and smiled reservedly motioning that it
might make them sick, but was all he had. Two of mobile IPT members
began working on returning to the car to gather essentials (i.e. passports…).
When they inquired about going back out, the Iraqis looked at them like
they were crazy. One of them doctors said, “We want to take you
but they will kill us. They will bomb our car. They have bombed even
our ambulances. It is not safe for you to leave.” At this point
they began considering what life might be like in Rutpa!
The
other vehicles eventually became concerned about their missing car,
and pulled off to wait. After quite some, the van of Somalians reached
them. They had seen the crashed taxi and tried to see what had happened.
They told the IPT members that the taxi had been in an accident, and
there was much blood around, but no passengers left in the car.
Remembering
the nearby town, the other cars headed back, and were warmly greeted.
When they asked where the hospital was, the Rutpa civilian said, “The
hospital is there, but it was bombed,” and pointed to the clinic.
Quick introductions were made, and an urgent decision to pile everyone
into the remaining vehicles. Agreeing to stay in Rutpa and be picked
up on the way home, the injured driver gave us hugs. The he and the
doctor leaned into the window of the GMC where Weldon lay, and kissed
him goodbye. On the way out we tried to give the doctors some money,
and they adamantly refused, insisting that they were caring for us as
brothers and friends. They did have one request: “Tell the world
that the US bombed our hospital.”
Again
they hit the road, singing and praying. But they were still not in the
clear. In the distance Leah spotted another smoke trail from a jet headed
towards them. Bodies tensed and hearts cried out to God. Once again
the plane slowly steered away. They passed through more of the wreckage
of war, and finally arrived at the Jordan border, after passing through
the Iraqi checkpoint. They were warmly greeted by a humanitarian organization
and their Somalian angels. As the Iraqi drivers left to pick up the
other driver and blaze the dangerous trail again, they tried to give
them a tip… but the driver refused the money!
Weldon
was in much pain, and they were very concerned that he might have internal
bleeding, so they quickly accepted the offer of free transportation,
going through the refugee camp, sharing some food, and taking a bus
to Amman. At one point Weldon lost consciousness, and some Jordanian
medical students came to his assistance. Others called for an ambulance,
where he would be accompanied by Jonathan. Little did they know the
adventure was hardly over. The first ambulance broke down and they were
transferred to another. This one had a flat tire (it was a rough road!)
– after 3 ambulances, 14 hours after the accident, Jonathan and
Weldon arrived at the hospital in Amman where Weldon went into the ICU.
He was diagnosed with broken ribs, a broken clavicle, broken thumb,
and a minor head injury. The others went through the refugee camp and
traveled to Amman by bus. Cliff had a final cleaning of his injury,
a few more stitches, and some antibiotics. Shane’s shoulder was
seen to have no major fractures but some ligament damage from dislocation
and was put in a sling. When they inquired about the cost of it all,
one doctor offered to help with the bill. Another cut the bill nearly
in half. And yet another escorted them back to the hotel where he would
later return to clean Cliff’s wound.
This
story is a testimony of the tremendous courage and generosity of the
Iraqi people. It exemplifies our time in Baghdad, in all its beauty
and in all its horror. At one point we said that we were glad to be
alive, and one of the doctors said, “I too am glad you are alive…
but many people are dead.” So while we rejoice in God’s
protection and in our friends’ continued recovery… we also
mourn because many Iraqi families and children have not lived through
this terror.
