By: Saul Rennison, Word count: 925, Draft: Final
Haditha
Haditha is a large, peaceful farming town situated in western Iraq. It is saturated with primitive, concrete buildings that lace the sandy, debris-ridden roads. They are all painted a sickly shade of yellow which has flaked away from their exteriors over time and now reveals a depressing grey colour. The gigantic palm trees dwarf the grimy, one-floored houses. Most of the shops display smashed or boarded windows. The interiors are eminently dark. The wallpaper is badly torn and peeling away from the walls where it meets the ceiling. Scorch marks from grenades heavily stained the floor and deep bullet holes scarred the walls. No furniture is present – just small, sharp pieces of broken glass and devastated shrapnel. Corrugated iron awnings hang over the pavement at the front of the shops, dismally shadowing the people that walk beneath them. There is a small, crumbling petrol station at the end of the long road that looks like it hasn’t operated for years. The attached shop also has smashed windows and vacant interiors. The sign on the roof of the building is badly corroded and rusting; some of the red, Arabic letters have fallen off completely. The pumps are severely damaged and submerged in litter and other large pieces of wreckage; the charred remains of a hatch-back lay next to them. Narrow, gloomy back alleys weave between the buildings of the town like a snake, creating a huge maze separated from the hustle and bustle of the streets. An M1 Abrams tank and a Stryker lie dormant on the road. They are both surrounded by a group of intimidating soldiers, with one of them lazily manning the mounted turrets. They wear baggy, yellow and green camouflage clothes; their chests buried in bags of ammunition and various other items. The rucksacks on their backs look huge in comparison to their bodies.
