] THE light was a strange yellowy grey and the wind was
] coming up, the beginnings of a sandstorm. The silence
] felt almost eerie after a night of shooting so intense
] it hurt the eardrums and shattered the nerves. My
] footsteps felt heavy on the hot, dusty asphalt as I
] walked slowly towards the bridge at Nasiriya. A
] horrific scene lay ahead.

US Marines turn fire on civilians at the bridge of death