Carpet Bombing

4 images in this album  [slideshow]  [login]    Gallery: Arofish     Album: The Scrawls of War - street art from IRAQ, PALESTINE and LEBANON    Album: BAGHDAD   CLICK ON PICS AGAIN TO ENLARGE. This one earned me 3 days detention courtesy of the American military, for trying to spray it on the concrete “T” barrier outside the Baghdad Hotel - one of their compounds. I was getting into the habit of knocking back a little cheap arak (40%) before going out decorating at night; it made me calmer and less prone to spoiling work by rushing, which could waste the hours taken to make a good stencil. This particular night, after half a bottle, I wasn’t gonna rush nothin’, baby. Some hours later, as I lay face down on the hotel’s concrete roof with my hands plasti-cuffed behind me and my shoulders aching like fire, the leaden dawn of sobriety and regret began to prevail. It might have been a more reflective moment without the obnoxious 21-year-old who would not get tired of cocking his rifle by my head and shouting things like “Shoot his ass man, I don’t have time for this shit, shoot his ass.” Eventually I sat up, shouting that he should get out of the army, which was fucking his head up. (Really I just wanted to sit up, lean back on something, and take the strain of gravity off my shoulders.) He then became less antisocial, telling me that he did plan to get out. He’d joined at 16, and served in Kosovo and a few other places before his tour of Iraq (6 months and counting) and had clearly had enough. When he realized I wasn’t Iraqi (seriously!) he changed my cuffs to the front. I realized I felt quite sorry for him and ended up wishing him good luck, in spite of myself. I hope they don’t hand him many more prisoners to deal with though. That morning saw me driven by humvee, all trussed up, to a camp where I spent the day (still cuffed) sitting/ sleeping round an oil drum fire in the detainees area – a small patch of grass by the guard box. A kindly soldier broke up pallets for firewood with a boulder. I nicknamed him Sgt. Rock. At night I got moved again, to another camp with a row of wire cages, ringed at top and bottom with razor wire, inside a warehouse with the windows screened off. The cage I got put in, by a tall black corporal who’d seen too many prison movies and was married to his baton, had about 15 Arab guys in it. Everyone had a sticker on their chest with personal details and circumstances of arrest written on. Theirs all said things like “I.E.D. material.” Mine said “anti-coalition graffiti”. Next morning, seeing us chatting, sharing food etc, the Yanks moved me to a cage on my own. The whole place was ran by threats, shouting, petty deprivations and minor (in my case anyway) physical assaults, which seemed as much to do with the soldiers’ frustration as any approved technology of repression. It’s not hard (or necessary) to intimidate people who are frightened, confused and thoroughly demoralized already. Ablutions were a pretty fucking sorry affair as well. When I got out I sprayed the piece below this statue of an airman, at the bombed out air defence school (see pic. 3 of 4). It seemed equally appropriate, with the flying theme and all. Carpet Bombing, Sadoon Street, Baghdad. Arrest tag from US military Carpet Bombing, Sadoon Street, Baghdad. FROM PRIVATE EYE  Gallery: Arofish     Album: The Scrawls of War - street art from IRAQ, PALESTINE and LEBANON    Album: BAGHDAD   Powered by Gallery v1.4.4-pl4