Reply #52: The heart of the resistance [View All]

[MedleyMisty]

part 3 of the Benghazi or Bust blog.

Seven AM-ish and there’s still nobody in sight on the harbor. Seagulls fight over the crumbs left by the crowds of last night’s festivities. It seems the alley cats rise much earlier and spared little for their winged competitors. The area is covered in tents of different sizes and shapes. They’re filled with carpets and cushions. During the day, the older men drink tea and share stories of their brave sons fighting Gaddafi’s forces only miles down the road.

It had only been a week since the enemy had encroached upon the outskirts of Benghazi. That same night cells of Gaddafi’s dreaded “leejan thowreeyah” (Revolutionary Committee) had assembled from their hiding places and attempted to take the city from within. The same square that I was standing in was besieged by a group of cars full of Gaddafi goons armed to the teeth. Meanwhile, on the outskirts of town, tanks and other heavy weapons began firing indiscriminately into the city, carrying out Gaddafi’s now infamous zenga, zenga promise of vengeance.

The neighborhoods around the courthouse were far from cowed by the sudden assault. Young men poured from their houses brandishing weapons they had recently acquired from the fallen barracks. A friend of mine describes the night as he remembers it.

“Women hugged their crying children. Their hands and faces towards the sky in prayer.” Automatic gun fire shattered the silenced dread of the evening. Women were screaming, men were yelling, “God is Great!”

http://enoughgaddafi.com/?p=635