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This really is so superior to TV:

Scattered through the Iraqi trenches was an arsenal hardly up to the task of slowing the American advance: a few hand grenades, some rocket launchers, three dozen magazines for Kalashnikov rifles. A pair of filthy mattresses and moldy blankets were thrown together in a pile. A dozen corpses lay splayed about in the ditch. Perhaps the only ominous articles were Iraqi gas masks strewn about the trench line.

On the roadside, the Iraqi prisoners huddled together. Only a few had uniforms; most wore tattered clothing and battered shoes. They did not seem like men who lusted for battle. American marines guarding the prisoners said they had complained that their own officers had shot at them during the battle. “I have four children at home, and they threatened to hurt them if I did not fight,” another one of the wounded Iraqis said. “I had no choice.”



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