Attack (of sorts) in Samarra Posted on June 2nd
I was outnumbered 20 to one in what has been called the most dangerous city in Iraq.
Terrified and isolated in a small wooden hut on the top of a patrol base in Samarra, I grabbed the only weapon to hand, a flip-flop, and started smacking it down in all directions in a bid to defend myself.
The giant ants were more than a match. One would fall only for two more even bigger beasts to rear up from a crack in the ground and take its place, fearlessly zooming towards me.
To animal lovers, I didn’t want to kill the things and initially tried to ping them out of the hut, but this involved opening the door, which invited hoards more in. Therefore, in line with typical Rules of Engagement, I whacked the flip-flop close by in an escalation of force before going in with the killer blows.
After about five minutes of flip-flip pounding, several of the colossal creatures (at least the size of a toe, well maybe the stumpy very skinny toe of a small child) lay dead. The others had alarmingly scuttled off to fight another day.
Moments later came a plague of baby ants to feed off the bodies of the humungous ones. This was too much. Beaten, I retreated out of my bedroom hut, across a stone roof (where another ant army appeared to be planning a counter-attack) and down a flight of makeshift wooden stairs to safety.
It took a while to muster up the courage to venture back. I finally returned, armed with a bottle of drinking water to wash the invaders away.
Job done, I tried to relax on a raised mattress in the hut where I was staying on an embed with US troops, but the fact that the place had been penetrated once meant it no longer felt safe.
Right now, it is midnight and I can’t sleep, convinced that if I do I will wake up to find large ants feasting on my feet or, worse still, crawling over my face.
I texted a friend about my dilemma who suggested scattering sugar outside to distract the ants from plotting their next ambush or dip the legs of my bed in paraffin (apparently a trick used in Africa during World War II to ward off scorpions). Useful tips if I had (a) sugar and (b) paraffin.
Alas, the only items of note in the hut, apart from the unexciting contents of my rucksack, are two apple cores and an empty carton of cherry juice. I am just going to have to rely on my trusty flip-flops and hope for the best.
On the positive side, I guess the fact that the only thing I am worrying about in Samarra is getting bitten by an ant must be a sign of progress given that less than a year ago militants were carrying out public executions in the street and people were living inside their homes in genuine terror.