Free Babylon's Ark by Lawrence Anthony Page B

legionnaire who with two comrades
held the invading Etruscan army at bay on the narrow bridge spanning the river Tiber in 510 B.C., allowing the Romans the chance to destroy the structure at the other end and save the city. It was one of the most uneven contests in history, and as I looked at the few exhausted men I had with me that was almost how I felt.
    The following morning, newspapers around the world carried reports of the wrecked zoo with picture spreads of bone-thin animals, smiling Iraqis, and me wearing a Thula Thula baseball cap. I never saw the reports at the time but later heard it was a major public relations boost … absolutely essential, as I knew all too well that media focus was crucial to galvanizing international aid. Whether we liked it or not, at this pivotal point publicity was our oxygen. I just hoped I could keep things ticking over until our plight affected the conscience of the world.
    Later that day a few more zoo workers arrived; no doubt the grapevine message was out that at last they would be paid. Any extra hands were crucial in carrying water to the cages, and I welcomed them with wide arms.
    If only I could get those pumps working and our biggest obstacle, water, would be solved.
    That was just one of many pressing problems. Dr. Husham again reminded me the staff was close to starving. They saw the animals getting food, and I was sure some of the better cuts of buffalo meat for the carnivores were already being filched for the staff’s families.
    I couldn’t blame them. But even if I gave them more money it would not be of much use, as there was precious little food to buy in Baghdad at that stage.
    This posed a serious dilemma. It was pointless trying to run a zoo where the staff was as hungry as the animals.
    I said I would see what I could do and at the very least get some MREs from the army. MREs are scientifically programmed food packs with enough nutrition to keep fighting people going under any circumstances, and they would be just what we needed to keep our struggling staff going.

    I didn’t know if I could officially ask the army to give me a bulk order, but I had no doubt soldiers would hand over any surplus supplies that they could. Before I arrived, some soldiers, sickened by the plight of the starving animals, had fed them with their own MREs. Like every battle, the fight to save the zoo would only be won by grassroots support. And in this regard the ordinary American soldier was magnificent.
    However, MREs would be little more than a stopgap. I needed a more permanent source of food.
    It wasn’t only the staff that was hungry. The supplies from Kuwait were by now almost exhausted, and we were down to the last few frozen chunks of buffalo meat. I decided to keep them for a rainy day, so in the meantime I had to find new outlets for animal food urgently.
    The answer to the latter problem was as simple as it was harsh. In ravaged Baghdad there was only one source of affordable meat: the ubiquitous donkey. Even so, war shortages had rocketed the cost of donkeys through the roof and the price was climbing daily. Each one of these gallant and loyal little beasts was now being sold at more than a quarter of an average Iraqi’s monthly salary.
    We had no other option, so I summoned a nearby worker, peeled off a number of dollar bills, and told him to come back with donkeys.
    I never saw the man or my money again. I cursed. If I couldn’t trust my own people, whom could I trust?
    I walked over to Husham and quizzed him about it, stressing that I only wanted loyal workers. He was adamant I had not given the money to any of our men, and we then realized what had happened. In the general chaos around the zoo I must have confused a looter with a staff member and given him the cash.
    I bet he couldn’t believe his luck. Husham and I laughed until our stomachs ached.
    That afternoon I sent out another worker with more dollars—this time first checking that