My free cam iraq
The last time I visited the city, also called Hamdaniyah, was in 2008, when a boisterous parade of Christians, mostly Assyrians and Chaldeans, filled the streets to protest an election law.
A noisy crowd carried banners, local TV crews followed, men stood on corners chain-smoking, and delicious aromas rose from open-air bakeries churning out flatbread and kebab stands sizzling with lamb and beef.
In a classroom building across a rubble-filled courtyard, ISIS had set up a bomb-making factory.
Much of it still remained as ISIS left it, because church leaders and local officials awaited some official inquiry. Sacks of open fertilizer and barrels of sugar sat on the floor alongside makeshift detonators.
“Anything they did not burn was only because they used it.” Unlike other churches I saw, where militants sprayed walls with oil then torched them until they charred black, St.
Every street, every doorway, every wall in some way is marred or destroyed.On a table were strewn kitchen scales, mixing bowls, and a measuring scoop, along with a coil of wire and a notebook on concocting lethal IEDs.In a corner was a pile of screws and empty shell casings used to pack suicide vests.A run of metal fencing, even, stands twisted, deformed, melted.Militants tunneled passageways running 30 feet deep beneath houses, leaving the dirt piled high inside bedrooms, where it reached above the curtains. Piles of rubble replace furniture, and debris substitutes for artwork and signage, anything that made everyday life beautiful and meaningful.
They brought in earthmovers and bulldozers to do what chisels and explosives could not.