hkskyline
June 30th, 2005, 08:52 AM
Baghdad to Basra, driving Iraq's train of fear
BAGHDAD, June 30 (AFP) - Iraq's railway system should be an economic locomotive for rebuilding the country, but on a lonely stretch south of Baghdad trains run empty and engineers count on thick plates of steel to stop bullets.
A trip from the capital to southern Basra only costs 1,000 dinars (less than a dollar), but passengers fear it could also cost them their lives and prefer to get on at Hilla, near the ancient city of Babylon about a fifth of the way down the green valley formed by the Tigris and Euphrates rivers.
In between lies what Iraqis call the Triangle of Death and cities like Latifiyah and Mahmudiyah, names that recall fierce firefights between Iraqi and US forces, and insurgents loyal to the former regime of Saddam Hussein.
"Honestly, we're scared because there is nothing to protect us," said Karar Hassan as he manned the controls of a green and yellow locomotive retro-fitted with armor to stop automatic weapons fire, if not rocket propelled grenades.
"The first thing you think about is your family, then you have to think about the passengers and the families that you have on board."
In fact, the train left Bagdad essentially empty, though a platoon of about 10 Iraqi policemen had the run of four passenger wagons, in case of an attack.
"Recently some of our engineers were fired on while doing their job," chief mechanical engineer Mohammed Abdullah told AFP.
A pilot locomotive had run down the track about an hour earlier to scout for explosives and insurgents, but they sometimes slip back in afterwards to strike their target.
Just before Latifiyah, two thick columns of black smoke billowed on the left side of the track, marking the start of a virtual no-man's land comprised of srub brush and palm groves that provide cover for snipers.
Few roads run near the railroad here and in case of an attack help can only come by rail or by air, though this time it was just an oil pipeline that had been sabotaged.
"This area is not safe, we read the Koran all the time and we pray to God to save us and the passengers" who get on in Hilla, Diwaniyah or Nasiriyah, Hassan said.
Taped above the windshield were images of the late Iranian Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini and the revered seventh-century Shiite imam Ali.
Hassan pointed to a wrecked train on a siding to the right.
"As you can see there are a number of freight cars that were bombed" and now sat empty, several bearing scars left by by homemade bombs or rockets.
Although the track is supposed to allow speeds of up to 160 kilometers per hour (100 mph), the train gets up to 120 kpm at best and spends much of the trip between 20 and 40 kph, owing to rails that are repeatedly ripped up.
Pointing again, the engineer said: "The rails have been lifted there many times and repaired 10 or 15 times and it's still happening," as the locomotive lurched to the left.
A little further on, the remains of another train lay on its side.
Germans began to build railroads in Iraq at the start of the 20th century, and since then the British, Russians, French and Chinese have all contributed to Iraqi efforts.
The line is being renovated between Baghdad and Basra, but it wasn't clear how work would fare in the Sunni Arab-dominated area that spawns insurgents.
Several wars left tracks and maintanence facilities in shambles, and looting in the spring of 2003 reduced Baghdad's Central Station to a ruin, though it has been restored since.
Of a total 2,339 kilometers of passenger track, less than 1,000 are in use, the line to Basra and a second that runs north to Mosul.
The train is pulled by a brand-new Chinese locomotive, but the cars are nearing the end of the line, with no water, electricity or air conditioning in temperatures climbing towards 45 degrees Centigrade (113 Fahrenheit).
Finally, Hassan saw a welcome landmark, a bridge known to engineers as kilometer 56 that meant he had made it safely.
"After this bridge everything will be fine because we will be close to the Iskandariyah railroad station. We're out of the danger zone," he said before stopping to let 30 people climb on board.
BAGHDAD, June 30 (AFP) - Iraq's railway system should be an economic locomotive for rebuilding the country, but on a lonely stretch south of Baghdad trains run empty and engineers count on thick plates of steel to stop bullets.
A trip from the capital to southern Basra only costs 1,000 dinars (less than a dollar), but passengers fear it could also cost them their lives and prefer to get on at Hilla, near the ancient city of Babylon about a fifth of the way down the green valley formed by the Tigris and Euphrates rivers.
In between lies what Iraqis call the Triangle of Death and cities like Latifiyah and Mahmudiyah, names that recall fierce firefights between Iraqi and US forces, and insurgents loyal to the former regime of Saddam Hussein.
"Honestly, we're scared because there is nothing to protect us," said Karar Hassan as he manned the controls of a green and yellow locomotive retro-fitted with armor to stop automatic weapons fire, if not rocket propelled grenades.
"The first thing you think about is your family, then you have to think about the passengers and the families that you have on board."
In fact, the train left Bagdad essentially empty, though a platoon of about 10 Iraqi policemen had the run of four passenger wagons, in case of an attack.
"Recently some of our engineers were fired on while doing their job," chief mechanical engineer Mohammed Abdullah told AFP.
A pilot locomotive had run down the track about an hour earlier to scout for explosives and insurgents, but they sometimes slip back in afterwards to strike their target.
Just before Latifiyah, two thick columns of black smoke billowed on the left side of the track, marking the start of a virtual no-man's land comprised of srub brush and palm groves that provide cover for snipers.
Few roads run near the railroad here and in case of an attack help can only come by rail or by air, though this time it was just an oil pipeline that had been sabotaged.
"This area is not safe, we read the Koran all the time and we pray to God to save us and the passengers" who get on in Hilla, Diwaniyah or Nasiriyah, Hassan said.
Taped above the windshield were images of the late Iranian Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini and the revered seventh-century Shiite imam Ali.
Hassan pointed to a wrecked train on a siding to the right.
"As you can see there are a number of freight cars that were bombed" and now sat empty, several bearing scars left by by homemade bombs or rockets.
Although the track is supposed to allow speeds of up to 160 kilometers per hour (100 mph), the train gets up to 120 kpm at best and spends much of the trip between 20 and 40 kph, owing to rails that are repeatedly ripped up.
Pointing again, the engineer said: "The rails have been lifted there many times and repaired 10 or 15 times and it's still happening," as the locomotive lurched to the left.
A little further on, the remains of another train lay on its side.
Germans began to build railroads in Iraq at the start of the 20th century, and since then the British, Russians, French and Chinese have all contributed to Iraqi efforts.
The line is being renovated between Baghdad and Basra, but it wasn't clear how work would fare in the Sunni Arab-dominated area that spawns insurgents.
Several wars left tracks and maintanence facilities in shambles, and looting in the spring of 2003 reduced Baghdad's Central Station to a ruin, though it has been restored since.
Of a total 2,339 kilometers of passenger track, less than 1,000 are in use, the line to Basra and a second that runs north to Mosul.
The train is pulled by a brand-new Chinese locomotive, but the cars are nearing the end of the line, with no water, electricity or air conditioning in temperatures climbing towards 45 degrees Centigrade (113 Fahrenheit).
Finally, Hassan saw a welcome landmark, a bridge known to engineers as kilometer 56 that meant he had made it safely.
"After this bridge everything will be fine because we will be close to the Iskandariyah railroad station. We're out of the danger zone," he said before stopping to let 30 people climb on board.