Two hostages survive Zarqawi's lair and US attack in Iraq

BAGHDAD, Oct 14 (AFP) - Charbel and Aram were lucky, extremely lucky.
Held hostage for 27 days by Abu Mussab al-Zarqawi's men, who have slit throats and hacked the heads off other captives, they emerged alive from Fallujah -- but only just.
Last Tuesday, the day their captors had promised to free them, US warplanes struck. Aram Nalbandian, aged 47, and 31-year-old Charbel Karam al-Hajj, spent two hours under the debris of the demolished building.
The first had his leg broken; the second his pelvis.
The US military said it had targeted Zarqawi's militants who it believed were planning "suicide attacks and kidnappings".
According to the two Lebanese, five fighters were killed in the attack. The group never discloses its losses and buries its "martyrs" immediately, by-passing hospital morgues.
Both men were freed on Wednesday after being treated briefly in hospital in Fallujah, the Sunni insurgent bastion some 50 kilometres (31 miles) west of Baghdad.
Visibly still tired and wearing the dirty clothes they had on at the time of the air raid, they said they were thinking of their companion in misfortune, their Iraqi driver Ahmed Mirza, who was wounded and was left behind in hospital.
"We were heading towards Fallujah on September 17 when we were stopped at a makeshift roadblock manned by the insurgents," said Charbel, his black beard covering much of his emaciated face.
Several hours later, the boss of the Lebanese company for which they worked, Si-Si, was aware of their plight.
"I tried tried to call Aram. An Iraqi replied. I knew they had been kidnapped," recounted Fadi Munir Yassin.
Those first days, the two men spent in a cold sweat. Tawhid wal Jihad (Unity and Holy War) is not reputed for mercy.
"They questioned us during each of the first five days before transferring us to a second house," said Charbel, still wearing the baggy trousers, characteristic of the Wahhabis or Sunni fundamentalists, given him by the kidnappers.
Father-of-three Aram, smoking one cigarette after another, recalled fearfully: "They wanted to know who we worked for and if we were collaborating with the Americans."
The pair spoke of a "war of nerves", of long hours without sleep. They began to mention "abuse" but then checked themselves, still fearing the anger of their kidnappers.
Most of the time, they were blindfolded, their eyes covered with a strip of fabric held in place by a metal wire.
"We kept track of the time thanks to the call to prayer" from the mosques, said Aram, adding that when they were told they could remove their blindfolds, they found themselves confronted by masked captors.
Asked about non-Iraqi Arabs among the kidnappers, they refused to speak and repeated they had been well treated. Both maintained they were able to shower every day and eat sufficiently. They also said they had mattresses, pillows and a fan.
"Before we were due to be released, they (kidnappers) asked us what we wanted to eat, to give us a farewell meal," said Aram.
Both men appeared to be trying to exorcise their fear in painting a picture rosier than reality. But their words sometimes betrayed them.
"The hardest thing was not knowing when we would come out," murmured Aram. And then there was the voices of other hostages. "In the final days there was an Egyptian," said Charbel, speaking also of Iraqis being punished for immorality or theft.
Religious fervour permeated the group. "These young fighters ask only to die as martyrs," said Aram. "They expect the (town) residents also to observe strict Islam. Tawhid wal Jihad makes the law in Fallujah."
Aram smiles, drew on his cigarette, and ended: "We went into the lion's den."