|
Looking For Trouble |
|
March 24 |
|
(Published March 25) ALL day the battle raged, Iraqi mortar rounds falling around a bridge over the Qanat Shatt al-Basrah canal on the main road into Basra, the tanks and armoured fighting vehicles of the Black Watch and the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards returning their fire. To the north, the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards' Challenger 2 tanks headed back across the canal after encountering stiff resistance from the Iraqi 6th armoured division. In the chaos and disorder surrounding Iraq's second city, it was difficult to speak of victories and defeats, but the withdrawal by the 7th Armoured Brigade, the Desert Rats, meant that last night, Basra was no longer completely surrounded by British forces. The "siege" of Basra had been partially lifted and, as one senior British officer put it: "This is all getting very messy". Over Basra, massive clouds of black smoke could be seen billowing up from burning trenches of oil lit by the Iraqis in the city, which sprawls back into the distance on either side of the bridge. Tanks shuffled backwards and forwards along the Basra road, refuelling before heading back to join the fray. Even the approach to the city was perilous, with troops running the gauntlet along a murderous stretch of road leading past a sprawling mass of dwellings, home to 100,000 Iraqi citizens. Along the road are the shells of burnt-out trucks, hit as they towed artillery pieces back towards the city away from the advancing US and British forces, the wreckage still smouldering. Sitting in an Iraqi pick-up truck were two charred bodies, horribly disfigured by the flames that enveloped them in their moment of death. Troops report civilians in Nissan and Toyota pick-up trucks firing rocket -propelled grenades at their vehicles then roaring off with flags fluttering out of their windows. Two Royal Engineers have gone missing in the area. The enemy are thought to be fanatical volunteers from the Saddam Fedayeen militia who are employing guerrilla tactics to defend Basra. So dangerous is the approach road that soldiers have nicknamed it RPG alley. Plans for the entire battle group to move up to the city under cover of darkness on Sunday night were abandoned, the risk adjudged to be too great. If anyone expected this to be easy, they don't any more. From the forward observation post in a sandbagged position on the south side of the bridge, Challenger tanks and Warrior armoured fighting vehicles could be seen spread out on the northern banks. Mortar rounds exploded on the far side, a succession of sharp thuds echoing back across the canal. US forward air controllers called in air strikes to flush out those dug in to defensive positions and from all around there was the rattle of sporadic firing. Loudspeakers fitted to the back of a Warrior blared out messages to those continuing to fight and to the civilians, urging them to lay down their weapons and stay away from where the fighting continued. Machinegun fire crackled away to the left and there was a barrage of thumps as more mortar rounds landed. The harrying tactics of the Iraqi enemy forced elements of the Desert Rats to pull away from their positions outside Basra. It was not being described as a retreat but it meant the British forces no longer controlled every route into the city. The decision to withdraw was taken after forward units from the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards battlegroup came under serious mortar fire in the early hours of yesterday as they guarded the main routes north and south. Officers admitted the brigade had vastly underestimated the likely resistance from the local populations in Basra. Captain Patrick Trueman said: "We're currently taking stock of the situation. We were expecting a lot of hands up from Iraqi soldiers and for the humanitarian operation in Basra to begin fairly quickly behind us, with aid organisations providing food and water to the locals. But it hasn't quite worked out that way. "There are significant elements in Basra who are hugely loyal to the regime. It's time to re-think." In the ruins of shattered buildings near the bridge, Warrior and Challenger crews yesterday rested up, snatching a few moments to wash and shave and to work on their vehicles before returning to the battle. Major Lindsay MacDuff and his men were there all morning, taking it in turn to cross the low concrete and steel bridge to relieve their colleagues engaging the Iraqi defenders on the other side. They were mortared and attacked with rocket-propelled grenades, one lodging in the back bin of a Warrior where spare fuel is stored, but failing to detonate. "We were here by first light today," said Major MacDuff, "and we've been taking a few mortar rounds, which has tightened people's focus and other parts of their anatomy and blooded us mentally. It was close enough for us to notice it was around us. "In physical terms you get a sensation of the compression and then the soundwave, a little bit like the throbbing you get when a ghetto blaster in a car drives past you, but the sound of the explosion is routine stuff. "That's been a useful experience for the younger members of the team and for those of us who have not sat under bombardment before. "It's a bit like being on an exercise with the noise and everything, but there is a bit more incoming fire than you might expect on an exercise and we've been responding with artillery and mortars." As he spoke, Warriors rumbled through the ruins of the buildings, the roar of the engines deafening, the ground shuddering beneath tracks clanking on the concrete. The north end of the bridge has been seized by Major MacDuff's men who were holding it against what he described as "isolated pockets" of resistance. In truth, no-one really knows how many Iraqis there are across the canal and who are still prepared to fight on. Hundreds of prisoners have been taken in this sector alone, where Saddam Hussein's 51st division had its base - 374 by mid-afternoon yesterday - but there are remaining pockets of troops who appear to want to fight on, and with some sense of purpose. "We haven't seen anything to indicate an enemy in strength, but the indirect fire we're engaging suggests that the capability is there," the major said. After days of watching other units doing all the fighting, for the younger members of the Warrior and Challenger crews this was a morning they will never forget. "I think the younger members were very keen to be where they are now," said Major MacDuff. "It was a slow start for us and we were expecting to do more fighting at the beginning so it has been rather easy until now. "They felt a bit left behind but I think they feel they have had as much opportunity as anyone else today. People are growing up quickly and there is an atmosphere of focused determination to get on with the task." But amid the noise and chaos of the fighting, Iraqi civilians were still moving backwards and forwards across the bridge, seemingly oblivious to the battle they were passing through. "They seem quite blase about it. Some of them are waving and giving the thumbs up, possibly because they are pleased we are not firing at them and maybe because they are pleased to see us." Crouched in the sandbagged observation post peering out across the oily water lying on the flat marshland in front of the canal, he gazed across at the city beyond where a million and a half people are trying to get on with their lives. As another loud explosion rocked the ground, he wondered how long it will take before normality can be regained. "I think it will take some time. If you listen to the radio you would believe that Basra has already been taken, but that is not the case. It is not helpful to us or the people inside to think that that is true. "We will be here for as long as it takes. How long the fighting takes I don't know but we would rather be getting on with the business of reconstruction rather than the business of destruction. " Indeed BBC World Service radio broadcasts picked up by the troops on their short-wave radios have suggested that the city fell two days ago, but the truth is that US forces pushing further north in the direction of Baghdad had to pass through the outskirts on their way, never entering the city itself. Even the vast southern hinterland is not truly subdued, gangs of men with rocket-propelled grenades roaming the countryside firing at troops whenever the opportunity presents itself. Many Iraqi soldiers have cast off their uniforms but hold on to their weapons, and for the columns of tanks and troops moving up towards the front line, nowhere can be considered safe. Wherever they go, there goes with them the constant fear that they could be the next target, that any of the people driving past or standing in the fields could be carrying an RPG launcher or a rifle. Everyone is a suspect. All along the main road to Basra there are constant reminders of the fighting up ahead. As reinforcements move up towards the front, they pass dozens of wrecked Iraqi trucks at the roadside, which were hit fleeing towards Basra, towing artillery pieces behind them. Still smouldering, there is the charred remains of an armoured personnel carrier, and a civilian pick-up truck with a machine gun mounted on its roof lies abandoned, doors open. A T-55 tank stands wrecked and abandoned in the central reservation. A truck is slewed awkwardly off the road, its windscreen riddled with bullets. As the convoy paused to refuel and rearm the fighting vehicles returning from the front, soldiers took up defensive positions, training their rifles on every vehicle and every individual coming their way. Suspicious vehicles were pulled to the side of the road, their occupants motioned out at gunpoint to sit with hands on heads while they and their cars were searched. The radios crackled with reports that troops further ahead were taking incoming fire and more tanks were sent forward to lend assistance. More civilians drove past, waving white handkerchiefs at the troops. A young man walked up the verge, holding up a sheet of white paper as the rifles swung towards him, waving shyly, apparently unconcerned by everything happening around him, ambling towards Basra and the sound of fresh gunfire. Others were worried and flushed, running beside the road, white flags fluttering from sticks, shouting at the troops, using hand gestures to try to suggest that they meant no harm, merely trying to escape the fighting. From the west came the sound of a fresh mortar barrage and, to the north, more explosions. To the rear of the convoy, there was a crackle of gunfire. Even 20 kilometres away from the front there was still no chance for the British troops to relax, to feel safe. Just to get to the battle, they must pass along RPG alley, a deadly stretch of road where British troops have been repeatedly attacked over the last few days. On this road, people have already died. For those without the protection of armoured plating, it is a journey fraught with danger, knowing that a hit from a rocket-propelled grenade would turn their vehicle into a twisted mass of metal in a split second. Machine gunners keep watch from the rooftops of the ammunition and fuel trucks and those at the front and rear of each convoy also scan the horizon, heavy weapons at the ready. Everywhere they look are potential hazards. Hundreds of people stream along the roadside, women wash clothing in muddy puddles, men fix trucks broken down by the roadside, each and every one a potential enemy soldier in civilian clothing, ready to crouch down and open fire with a burst of bullets or a grenade. Back at the front, as the blazing heat of the midday sun began to wane and the shadows grew longer, crews, refreshed by a few snatched hours in the shade of their armoured vehicles, climbed back inside and started the engines. And with that they were off again, heading off across the bridge, towards the sounds of battle.
|
|
(Original copy) All day the battle has raged, Iraqi mortar rounds falling around a bridge over the Qanat Shatt Al Basrah canal on the main road into Basra, the tanks and armoured fighting vehicles of the Black Watch and the Royal Scots Guards returning their fire. Massive clouds of black smoke billowing up from burning trenches of oil lit by the Iraqis in the city, which sprawls back into the distance on either side of the bridge. Tanks shuffle backwards and forwards along the Basra road refuelling before heading back to join the fray. Even the approach to the city remains perilous, troops running the gauntlet along a murderous stretch of road leading past a sprawling mass dwellings, home to 100,000 Iraqi citizens. Along the road are the shells of burnt out trucks hit as they towed artillery pieces back towards the city away from the advancing US and British forces, the wreckage still smouldering. In a pick-up truck, sit two charred bodies, horribly disfigured by the flames that enveloped them in their moment of death. Two Royal Engineers have gone missing in the area. Troops report civilians in Nissan and Toyota pick-up trucks firing rocket propelled grenades at their vehicles then roaring off with flags fluttering out of their windows. So dangerous is the approach road soldiers have nicknamed it RPG alley. Plans for the entire battle group to move up to the city under cover of darkness on Sunday night were abandoned, the risk adjudged to be too great. If anyone expected this to be easy, they don’t any more. But by midday, the bridges secured and the area declared safe enough for other units to move forwards. From the forward observation post in a sandbagged position on the south side of the bridge, Challenger tanks and Warrior armoured fighting vehicles can be seen spread out on the northern banks. Mortar rounds explode on the far side, a succession of sharp thuds echoing back across the canal. US forward air controllers call in air strikes to flash out those dug in to defensive positions and from all around there is the rattle of sporadic firing. Loud speakers fitted to the back of a Warrior blare out message to those continuing to fight and to the civilians, urging them to lay down their weapons and stay away from where the fighting continues. Machine gun fire crackles away to the left and there is a barrage of thumps as more mortar rounds land. In the ruins of shattered buildings near the bridge, Warrior and Challenger crews rest up, snatching a few moments to wash and shave and to work on their vehicles before returning to the fray. Major Lindsay MacDuff and his men have been here all morning, taking it in turn to cross the low concrete and steel bridge to relieve their colleagues engaging the Iraqi defenders on the other side. They have been mortared and attacked with mortar propelled grenades, one lodging in the back bin of a Warrior where spare fuel is stored but failing to detonate. “We were here by first light today,” he says, “and we’ve been taking a few mortar rounds, which has tightened people’s focus and other parts of their anatomy and blooded us mentally. It was close enough for us to notice it was around us. “In physical terms you get a sensation of the compression and then the soundwave, a little bit like the throbbing you get when a ghetto blaster in a car drives past you, but the sound of the explosion is routine stuff. “That’s been a useful experience for the younger members of the team and for those of us who have not sat under bombardment before. “It’s a bit like being on an exercise with the noise and everything , but this is a bit more incoming fire than you might expect on an exercise and we’ve been responding with artillery and mortars.” As he talks more warriors rumble through the ruins of the buildings, the roar of the engines deafening the ground shuddering beneath their tracks clanking on the hard concrete, clouds of dust blowing across the twisted metal frames of the buildings which slum at crazy angles, roofs gone, floors collapsing, sides ripped open. The north end of the bridge has been seized by Major MacDuff’s men who are holding it against what he describes as isolated pockets of resistance. No one really knows how many Iraqis there are across the canal who are still prepared to fight on. Hundreds of prisoners have been taken in this sector alone, alone where Saddam Hussein’s 51st division had its base – 374 by mid afternoon yesterday but there are remaining pockets of troops who appear to want to fight on and with some sense of purpose. “We haven’t seen anything to indicate an enemy in strength, but the indirect fire we’re engaging suggests that the capability is there.” After days of watching other units doing all the fighting, for the younger members of the Warrior and Challenger crews, this has been a morning they will never forget. “I think the younger members were very keen to be where they are now, ” says Major MacDuff. “It was a slow start for us and we were expecting to do more fighting at the beginning so it has been rather easy until now. “They felt a bit left behind but I think they feel they have had as much opportunity as anyone else today. “People are growing up quickly and there is an atmosphere of focused determination to get on with the task.” But amid the noise and chaos of the fighting, Iraqi civilians are still moving backwards and forwards across the bridge, seemingly oblivious to the battle they are passing through. “They seem quite blase about it. Some of them are waving and giving the thumbs up, possibly because they are pleased we are not firing at them and maybe because they are pleased to see us.” Crouched in the sandbagged observation post peering out across the oily water lying on the flat marshland in front of the canal, he gazes across at the city beyond where a million and a half people are trying to get on with their lives. As another loud explosion rocks the ground, he wonders how long it will take before normality can be regained. “I think it will take some time. If you listen to the radio you would believe that Basra has already been taken, but that is not the case. It is not helpful to us or the people inside to think that that is true. “We will be here for as long as it takes. How long the fighting takes I don’t know but we would rather be getting on with the business of reconstruction rather than the business of destruction. ” Indeed BBC World Service radio broadcasts picked up by the troops on their short wave radios have suggested that the city fell two days ago, but the truth is that US Forces pushing further north in the direction of Baghdad had to pass through the outskirts on their way, never entering the city itself. Even the vast southern hinterland is not truly subdued, gangs of men with rocket propelled grenades roaming the countryside firing at troops whenever the opportunity presents itself. Many Iraqi soldiers have cast off their uniforms but held on to their weapons, and for the columns of tanks and troops moving up towards the frontline, nowhere can be considered safe. Wherever they go, there goes with them the constant fear that they could be the next target, that any of the people driving past or standing in the fields could be carrying an RPG launcher or a rifle. Everyone is a suspect. All along the main road to Basra there are constant reminders of the fighting up ahead. As reinforcements move up towards the front, they pass dozens of wrecked trucks at the roadside, hit as they fled towards Basra towing artillery pieces behind them. Still smouldering, there is the charred remains of an armoured personnel carrier and a civilian pick-up truck with a machine gun mounted on its roof, lies abandoned, doors open. A T-55 tank stands wrecked and abandoned in the central reservation. The truck is slewed awkwardly off the road its windscreen riddled with bullets. Tanks race ahead, pursued by an Iraqi ambulance. As the convoy pauses to refuel and rearm the fighting vehicles returning from the front, soldiers take up defensive positions, training their rifles on every vehicle and every individual coming their way. Suspicious vehicles are pulled to the side of the road, their occupants motioned out at gunpoint to sit with hands on heads while they and their cars are searched. The radios crackle with reports that troops further ahead are taking incoming fire and more tanks go forward to lend assistance. More civilians drive past, waving white handkerchiefs at the troops. A young man walks up the verge, holding up a sheet of white paper as the rifles swing towards him, waving shyly, apparently unconcerned by everything happening around him, ambling towards Basra and the sound of fresh gunfire. Others are worried and flushed, running beside the road, white flags fluttering from sticks, shouting at the troops, using hand gestures to try to suggest that they mean no harm, trying to escape the fighting. From the west comes the sound of a fresh mortar barrage and to the north, more explosions. To the rear of the convoy, there is a crackle of gunfire. Even 20 kilometres away from the front there is still no chance to relax, to feel safe. Just to get to the battle, they must pass along RPG alley, a deadly stretch of road where British troops have been repeatedly attacked over the last few days. On this road, people have already died. For those without the protection of armoured plating, it is a journey fraught with danger, knowing that a hit from a rocket propelled grenade would turn their vehicle into a twisted mass of metal in a split second. Machine gunners keep watch from the rooftops of the ammunition and fuel trucks and those at the front and rear of each convoy also scan the horizon, heavy weapons at the ready. Everywhere they look are potential hazards. Hundreds of people stream along the roadside, women wash clothing in muddy puddles, men fix trucks broken down by the roadside, each and very one a potential enemy soldier in civilian clothing, ready to crouch down and open fire with a burst of bullets or a grenade. Back at the front, as the blazing heat of the midday sun begins to wane and the shadows grow longer, crews refreshed by a few snatched hours in the shade of their armoured vehicles climb back inside and start the engines. And with that they are off again, heading off across the bridge towards the sounds of battle.
|
|
(Published March 25) ARRIVING in dribs and drabs at the holding compound near Basra, the Iraqi prisoners of war are nervous and edgy, clearly worried about the fate awaiting them. The Royal Engineers attached to the Royal Tank Regiment have taken over an old Iraqi military training school to house their prisoners, its white-walled entrance decorated with a picture of a smiling Saddam Hussein surrounded by images of a tank and a soldier giving the victory sign. Yet many of the prisoners say their initial fears are misplaced. Ali, who claims to be a member of Iraq's merchant navy, insists he is happy to be there. His British captors say Ali - a married man with children, aged in his late thirties - has been the most helpful of all the prisoners, his broken English invaluable as the troops try to communicate with new arrivals. "We are happy to be here, we are very happy," he says. "We have food and water, we are happy to be here." Smiling, he points to the cluster of men sitting on the ground, ringed by hoops of barbed wire behind him. Some of them jump up, also smiling, and wave. Ali claims he is happy to see the British and US troops: "Here, it was hard before but now it is good." At the mention of Saddam, he becomes animated, putting his hands around his throat, jabbing his finger at his head, gabbling over and over again: "Saddam, no, no, no," waving his hands again and again. The prisoners receive medical attention, water and food; a rations box for two men contains two bottles of water, cheese, tinned stuffed aubergines, chocolate milk, biscuits, two tins of chicken luncheon meat, a can of orange juice, a tin of tuna steak, a tub of honey and two spoons. At the compound gate, four heavily-armed soldiers stand guard, bayonets fixed to their machine guns and rifles. Behind them are armoured medical vehicles, their crews ready to offer medical attention to prisoners in need. For some, there is little that can be done; four were buried outside the compound last night. On the perimeter of the compound, machine guns of armoured vehicles are trained on open land, criss-crossed with sandy ridges which offer perfect cover to bands of Iraqi soldiers who have thrown away their uniforms, but held on to their weapons, harassing and harrying British troops wherever they go. Overseeing the PoWs is Sergeant Major "H" Harrison. He insists this is not a PoW camp but a holding compound, where prisoners are processed before being moved back to the rear. Sgt Major Harrison says many of the officers who have given themselves up have freely offered information to the coalition forces. If someone of particular interest is found, they are fast-tracked through the system to be interviewed by intelligence experts. He says: "Our priority is that once someone is taken as a PoW, they are removed from the combat area to be processed and identified." Once the PoWs realise they are no longer in danger, the transformation is dramatic: "The reaction when they first arrive is one of uncertainty. You can see in their eyes it is clear that they are not sure what is going to happen. Startled rabbits is probably the best expression. "But once they get food and water and medical treatment, that's when their whole attitude changes; there are big grins, they are happy to be here. If they had mobile phones, they would be calling their friends telling them to join them. Then all they want is a cigarette."
|
|
(Original copy) As captured US troops were being paraded by Saddam Hussein's regime on television yesterday, 250 Iraqi prisoners of war were settling into another day of rather more civilised captivity in a holding compound near Basra. Brought in in dribs and drabs from all around the local area, the POWs are nervous and edgy, clearly worried about the fate awaiting them. But their fears are misplaced. While the Iraqis flout the Geneva Convention, British forces are making sure there can be no accusations of mistreatment at their hands. Ali, who claims to be a member of Iraq's Merchant Navy, insists he is happy to be there. With a red and white keffiyah wrapped around his head, and wearing a camouflage combat jacket, green trousers and black boots, he is in his late thirties, married with children. His captors say he has been the most helpful of all the prisoners, his broken English invaluable as the troops try to communicate with those coming into the compound. "We are happy to be here, we are very happy," he says. "We have food and water, we are happy, we are happy to be here." Smiling, he points to the cluster of men sitting on the ground, ringed by hoops of barbed wire behind him. Some of them jump up, also smiling, and wave. "Not soldiers, militia," he says, pointing to them again. A prisoner he may be, but Ali claims he is happy to see the British and American troops who have arrived in his country. "Here it was hard before but now it is good," he says. And at the mention of Saddam Hussein he becomes animated, putting his hands around his throat, jabbing his finger at his head, gabbling over and over again "Saddam, no, no, no," waving his hands and again and again "Saddam, no, no, no". The reasons to be cheerful are not hard to see. In place of constant aerial and ground bombardment and orders to stand and fight, against the devastasting fire power of the British and US troops, the prisoners know that they no longer face the ever present fear of sudden death. They receive medical attention, water and food aplenty: a rations box for two men contains two bottles of water, a large round box of Laughing Cow cheese, canned stuffed aubergines, a carton of chocolate milk, Nice biscuits, two tins of chicken luncheon meat, a can of orange juice, a tin of Heinz Tuna steak in Sunflower oil, a tub of honey and two spoons. The Royal Engineers attached to the Royal Tank regiment have taken over an old Iraqi military training school to house their prisoners, its white walled entrance decorated with a picture of a smiling Saddam Hussein surrounded by images of a tank, a soldier giving the V for victory sign, a shield and spears. Four heavily armed soldiers guard the gate, bayonets fixed to their machine guns and rifles. Behind them stands armoured medical vehicles, their crews solely tasked to offer medical attention to any prisoner in need. For some however, there is little that can be done. Four were buried outside the compound last night. On the perimeter of the compound, armoured vehicles stand guard, their machine guns trained on the open land in front which is criss-crossed with sandy ridges offering perfect cover to any one of the bands of Iraqi soldiers who have thrown away their uniforms but held onto their weapons, harassing and harrying the British troops wherever they go. Overseeing the POWs is Sergeant Major "H" Harrison, a wiry man wearing a radio headset. He explains that this is not a POW camp but a holding compound, where prisoners are processed before being moved back to the rear. "Our priority is that once someone is taken as a POW they are removed from the combat area to be processed, identified and then sent back down the logistics chain. "Once the POWs realise they are no longer in danger, the transformation is dramatic. "The reaction when they first arrive is one of uncertainty. You can see in their eyes it is clear that they are not sure what is going to happen. Startled rabbits is probably the best expression," says Sergeant Major Harrison. "But once they get food and water and medical treatment that's when their whole attitude changes, there are big grins, they are happy to be here. If they had mobile phones they would be calling their friends telling them to join them. Then all they want is a cigarette." Sergeant Major Harrison says many of the officers who have given themselves up have freely offered information to the coalition forces. If someone of particular interest is found, they are fast tracked through the system to be interviewed by intelligence experts when many speak English and are helping their captors to communicate with the enlisted men. They have been allowed to keep personal items, including gas masks, but weapons have been confiscated and lie piled up in the shade. Many are ancient, even First World War vintage, old Lee Enfield rifles and rusting training weapons. But there are also modern AK47s, RPG launchers and one man has even arrived carrying a two foot long steel axe. The British soldiers have found tents in the military building and they have been pitched outside. Officers sleep indoors, on the floor, covered by blankets, but the Engineers have rigged up lighting to make them more comfortable. Outside the compound, British troops sleep on the ground under the stars at the side of their vehicles, waiting for orders to advance again.
|
|
(Published March 25) EXPERTS are examining suspected Scud missiles discovered by British soldiers searching a chemical plant outside Basra. A number of the grey-painted rockets, about 23ft long, were found in the Dirhamiyah petro-chemical plant close to Iraq's second city. The discovery has raised suspicions that Saddam Hussein was planning to arm the missiles with chemical warheads. British officers say it is difficult to find an innocent explanation for storing missiles in a chemical plant. The find comes a day after soldiers with the Black Watch discovered a cache of weapons, including two Russian al-Harith anti-ship cruise missiles, at the Az Zubayr civilian heliport south of Basra. The British defence company whose products were also discovered in the cache has denied selling any products to Iraq. Wallop Defence Systems, of Middle Wallop, Hampshire, said the "weapons", described as fuses for detonators, were probably smoke grenades stolen by Iraq 13 years ago. The issue of who supplied Iraq with weapons became increasingly heated yesterday, as Russia dismissed claims from the United States that it had illicitly supplied Saddam with arms. The US claims Russian companies sent anti -tank guided missiles, night-vision goggles and jamming devices to Iraq, in violation of United Nations' sanctions. George Bush, the US president, raised the issue with his Russian counterpart, Vladimir Putin, in a phone call yesterday, according to the White House spokesman, Ari Fleischer. But Igor Ivanov, the Russian foreign minister, said: "We did not send any goods, including military ones, that violated the sanctions." He said that from October, the US had requested reports on the alleged illicit sales several times, and that Russia had made its most recent report on 18 March.
|
|
(Original copy) Weapons experts are examining scud missiles discovered in a chemical plant outside Basra. A number of grey painted rockets, about 23 feet long and three foot in diameter, were discovered in the Dirhamiyah petro chemical plant. The discovery has raised suspicions that Saddam Hussein was planning to arm the missiles with chemical warheads. British officers say it is difficult to find an innocent explanation for storing missiles in a chemical plant. Sergeant Major "H" Harrison of the Royal Engineers said experts had been called in to examine the weapons. "They are quite big and they were found in one of the chemical factories," he said. "It is obviously a site of interest." Captain Rob Sandford, with the Black Watch battle group patrolling the area in which the missiles were found, said: "We would not expect to find missiles in a chemical factory." The factory is marked on maps as an oil processing plant.
|