When I visited the Tasferat detainee jail in Bagdad, I had a room with the troops on the 4th floor of the Ministry of Interior building. The building was one of the tallest in Bagdad. We would climb onto the rooftop and watch the explosion of war as far as we could see. The Ministry of Interior under Saddam Hussein tormented his enemies and those he considered undesirable. He performed severe torturous acts. He handcuffed prisoners and executed them with dynamite sticks put in their pockets. They scream for mercy as Saddam’s security police tortured them. They gauged out the eye of many and engaged in unlawful detention activities without trials. Many citizens disappeared forever. They also beheaded many women for allegations of prostitution, and the regime raped and tortured an uncountable number of women. Saddam and his gunnies terrorized the citizens for over 20 years. Knowing and hearing about the many stories Saddam inflicted on his citizens, the Minister of Interior Building was an eerie place to sleep. Many evil orders came from this building to perform unspeakable acts against humanity. This article only touches the surface of the terrible acts of horror that Saddam and his sons did to dominate the citizens of Iraq. One negative word from a family could leave all their names in the graveyard.
On September 2, 2003, I departed the Ministry of Interior building and walked to Tasferat detainee jail to visit the troops. I passed the area where they kept stolen vehicles and the Chief of Police’s office to enter the detainee jail. After visiting a few troops, I entered a court where a child played. Contractors and others from the community were feeding the detainees. The child was waiting for her parent to finish their jobs. I walked to the back of the courtyard and climbed the stairs onto a porch to visit a fellow comraded. At 1130 hours, we were standing on the back patio overlooking the open courtyard when a daisy chain car bomb exploded at our location. After a bloom of black smoke appeared, a blast wave traveled through me, putting me into a dry drunk when all went blank. What I remember is my foot jumping halfway off the edge of the porch to run toward the blast. I woke up hoisting the young girl into my arms to protect her from a possible secondary attack and removed her out of the way of the Military Police, storming from all directions to prepare for battle. All that little girl said to me is, “Saddam did this” repeatedly.
When all was clear, a Military Police specialist came to point out the windows on the back porch where I was standing imploded because of the daisy car bomb blast. She also pointed out the large automobile part hurled on 3 meters of my original location. The explosion rendered some members temporarily deft, blew out windows, killed one Iraqi police officer. The explosion destroyed the structure separation between the Tasferat Jail and the Rusafa Jail. The members at the sight were all affected in some manner. Since this experience became public news, we called our families to let them all know we were good to go with all the soldiers were present for duty. Afterward, I asked a physician to provide pain medication for a splitting headache. We took pictures of ourselves standing next to a half-burnt palm tree with a car blown up the tree. All the troops were in good spirits as if they had just experienced another day in combat. As warriors we remained unbroken.
