Paris
Match Reporter Claudine Vernier-Palliez accompanied the Fedayeen Commando
Unit on their Strike Mission.
Pictured above (and in the
slides to follow) is the fedayeen commando which struck the DHL Airbus
on
27/11/03
There to
inquire into the rebels who fight against the American presence, our
reporter Claudine Vernier-Palliez has attended the shocking exploits of a
guerrilla band that’s ready for everything. Even to fire against a civilian
aircraft!
READ the
ARTICLE
Below (translated
version)
Sent by our
special envoy Claudine Vernier-Palliez
It is sunrise
and time for the first prayer of the day. The ten men lay down their weapons
on the ground and prostrate themselves towards Mecca. Three cars are at
their disposal. They start off in a column, we don’t know where they’re
taking us. They stop in a cloud of dust, some kilometres further on, to
recover a ground-to-air missile Sam-7 wrapped in a white fabric and
concealed in a thicket, at the edge of a dirt track.
Then they
retrieve and place in their van an RPG7,
Kalashnikovs and machine-guns that were hidden in underbrush
by a nearby
bridge. "Today”, says the Leader, “we will cut down a plane! We had planned
to carry out this operation tomorrow evening, but now it will be done this
morning." He lifts his arms towards the sky and begs Allah to support them,
him and his team.
The day before, his face always masked by a red and white muffler, the head
commando had tried to explain to us the reasons for his action: "Right now,
the Americans'
plans have failed, and our action has been born from their behaviour
towards the Iraqi population. The have neither included nor understood us
nor respected our rights. Under the pretext of releasing us, they took from
us our final freedoms. Each one here will say to you that they lived better
under Saddam
and that however bad, we had all our freedoms. Today, we tighten our
grip upon the Americans. We propose for them to carry out their project only
if they help us to carry out ours which is our freedom and our right
for us to
control our country ourselves. We know all that they are here for the oil.
We propose to them to keep it and for us to keep about 1% of it.
He says that
the resistance movement which he commands has already brought down five
planes, all military models. "No-one realises, but everybody here knows
that, since the end of the war, the Americans have been hiding their true
death-toll. “The first one”, he tells me, “was on June 15, on the Nasiryah
motorway, about 140 kilometres from Baghdad. We counted 177 corpses which
they have never acknowledged. Not a word either of the 50 officers who
arrived by air from Turkey
and tried to land at the Baghdad Airport
on
October the 2nd or 3rd, I forget the exact date. We fired two missiles at 7
am, and hit the fuselage of that plane; I believe that it was a C-130.
More verifiable than the enormity of
his accounting
of precedents,
he adds that a week before the beginning of Ramadan, one Thursday, before
sunset, his team shot down a helicopter which fell into the Euphrates River. “But a plane”, he
adds laughing gleefully under his red and white hood, “strategically that
has more value.”
Friday
November 21, somewhere in Baghdad.
The head of
the commandos tells us that one day
prior
he had spotted a DHL Airbus which was
flying at low level. “I’ve never, we never fire on the civil aircraft. But
at that time I did not know what DHL was doing. Afterwards, when a friend
of mine explained that these aircraft transported GI’s mail, I regretted a
little my intentions. That would mean depriving the soldiers of the letters
from their mothers and their wives. But the next time, I fire!" The sun
rises and draws red shades
upon the men who have just begun to take up their
weapons and prepare for "the operation". A peasant passes, his shovel on his
back. He understands what is underway and says simply: "God blesses you and
supports your action", before moving away quietly towards his field of
tomatoes.
Ears prick up. A plane has just taken off from the Bagdad Airport - less
than 4 kilometres from where we are.
Despite the
noise, even when the sky is clear they are not always
clearly visible." The
team gives an opinion. Eight men place themselves about fifteen meters
apart, RPG7's upheld and Russian machine-guns on bipod mounts, ready for
action if a patrol of GI’s should venture upon them. Two men move away
slightly from the group, each one carrying on his shoulder a Russian Sam-7
type
ground-to-air missile. One man, his face concealed under a white scarf,
explains to us the missile’s operation. "One is an older type, and it is
necessary to actuate the release to direct the missile onto its target. For
three such launched missiles, only one in general would reach its target.
The other SA-14 is more modern and
the
locking of the missile onto the target is automatic. The impact is therefore
guaranteed."
The plane is
hardly distinguishable as it climbs into the sky. "Too far, too high!” howls
the leader, “We’ll get the next one."
After having
rolled half an hour further into the countryside, the leader gives the
command to halt at the end of a sunken lane and to park the cars so that
they are ready to disperse at the slightest sound. We are within
approximately 2 kilometres of the airport, it is a little before 9am, this
Saturday morning November 22. The sky is clear and the sun is already much
too hot. Wild dogs pass by, their tails raised as if in question mark, but
the peasants who attend their cows in the fields easily guess what
it
is these
men with the faces hidden under their scarves are up to. Are they supportive
of their planned action? The "soldiers" charged with security of the
launch-point give
me their opinions.
One of
their number films the scene, a
Kalashnikov in
one hand, a small camera in the
other. Three men
are waiting at the wheel of
each of the cars, ready to start at a moment’s
notice. Suddenly, the leader pricks up his ears and scans the sky, leaps up
and shouts: "A plane! You there, at the ready, this time you will have to
fire!" The aircraft is flying at approximately 4800ft of altitude and is
about 3 kilometres from us. The two men are placed 50 meters apart
and wait for
their orders, With a Strella on one’s shoulders it’s believed to be hard to
distinguish a Boeing 747 from an American military plane. The seeker head
howls: "Fire!
and at 9:18am the first missile hits the target's
left wing. The
second, five seconds later, misses its target. The leader jumps for joy like
a child and lifts up his hands to the sky: "Allah O Akbar! Allah O Akbar!"
Then he immediately gives the order to breakdown the weapons and each car
starts off in a cloud of dust,
each
one in a
different direction. We will discover later
from the press-releases that the commando group had fired upon a DHL
Airbus... A civil target! |