Benghazi - Sometimes I feel like crying. Her voice breaks into sobs. Yet General Abdul Fatah Yunis is a tough guy. He was a faithful Gaddafi, was her interior minister, but even before the February 17 has sided with the rebels in hiding. And now is the commander of the Libyan army ragged free and tries to retrieve his old comrade in arms.
Gen. Mohammed al-Ayat, in fact, has remained with the dictator. The petition, launched the endless appeals over the radio of the insurgents. Reminds him of the friends, the time spent together, the close relations between their families. Complains. Almost sobbing in the grip of an emotion, perhaps authentic.
Come with us Mohammed, with Gaddafi does not have a future, his power is in agony. Yunis insists the time is short, you still have a few hours to decide, you have to embrace the revolution. Soon it will be too late. The voice of General Yunis bounces in all the cities of Cyrenaica and Tripolitania in those still in the hands of Saddam.
Here at the Benghazi spread the speakers hanging from lampposts. I do not think that where Gaddafi still commands widespread with such fervor. The insurgents are trying to deprive Qaddafi of his army to isolate it in the bunker of Tripoli, and invited the soldiers to desert. If one of their most famous general, Mohammed Ayat, let themselves be persuaded by an old friend Yunis, would be a good shot.
Some units loyal to Saddam infiltrated the western outskirts of Benghazi, just hours before the initiation of the Odyssey, when the French Mirage and Rafale flew not yet Benghazi, have laid down their arms. In the court building, site of the National Council, which functions as a committee of Liberation and the provisional government, they tell me they had found fifteen soldiers with their hands tied and with a shot in the neck.
They were deserters. Executed, I shall, by his companions. They had refused to fight. But the leaders of the insurgency does not make a lot of illusions. The bulk of the troops, landed near the port or coming from the coastal road or the inside of the desert, has retired and now is forty miles west of Benghazi.
He would put away to escape the British and French air raids, whose goal is to destroy the army's logistics Gaddafi, and crush to make it harmless. But those units were forced to retreat, and certainly intimidated by the air strikes even if not directed against them, the attack will start again soon.
In the main office houses the National Council not optimism prevails. Neurotic agitation reigns. The events justify it. The reception is still generous. All are eager to tell. Between computers and Kalashnikovs, including camouflage and jeans, smiled and shouted commands, I can barely take a few fragments of those stories that I will pour upon him.
No, the war did not end with the intervention of western aircraft, approved by the Arabs. Gaddafi will start again with the strong repression when raids will cease. It takes more to flush him out. The decision of the Security Council is providential. It is a vital breath of fresh air, but other hardships await Libya free.
I realize that death is the French flag, the size of a sheet, until Friday, hung on the facade of the building. Gratitude has already exhausted? I was assured that it is not. If there is no fault of the wind of the Mediterranean that has torn. Another version is that the insignia of France should be added to those of Britain and the United States.
So, the tribute must take on new proportions, as the missiles are intended to Gaddafi of many nationalities. There was a manhunt in the last two days in Benghazi. When the troops of Gaddafi on Friday moved closer to the periphery, in various districts revealed that a militia called the "fifth column".
The partisans of Saddam were holed up among the population. They were city dwellers, or people coming from outside. In several neighborhoods, including downtown, went out into the open arms in hand, to give the impression that the soldiers landed near the port, or arrived on the coast road, or from the desert, were to occupy the city.
But the "fifth column" did not know that the insurgents had managed to halt the offensive and then they dispersed the attackers, killing at least one hundred prisoners and many dead. The moles of Gaddafi, nestled in the heart of Benghazi, have tried to return to their hiding places, but many have been recognized, captured and killed.
And the bloody hunt continued for hours. Among the soldiers who tried to infiltrate Gaddafi in Benghazi there were foreigners. It is estimated that the whole of Libya are at least ten thousand, including several hundred from Chad. But there are also Ethiopians, Sudanese and Nigerians. African mercenaries are engaged in a war that is not theirs.
They have no way out. Desert is difficult. Some are hiding in the remote outskirts of Benghazi and the sporadic gunfire that you often hear the sounds reveal the ongoing hunt for the men hunted, Libyans and foreigners alike. The Africans are the remnants of pan-African policy promoted by Gaddafi in the seventies disappointed by the refusal of the Arabs to consider their leader.
They are also the result of his generosity towards the affected sub-Saharan dictators, who in return gave the mercenaries. I like the Libyans are ghosts, and as such provoke terror. The country is thus an arsenal of armed men that the Anglo-French air, blessed by the UN, it was difficult to disperse. 
Gen. Mohammed al-Ayat, in fact, has remained with the dictator. The petition, launched the endless appeals over the radio of the insurgents. Reminds him of the friends, the time spent together, the close relations between their families. Complains. Almost sobbing in the grip of an emotion, perhaps authentic.
Come with us Mohammed, with Gaddafi does not have a future, his power is in agony. Yunis insists the time is short, you still have a few hours to decide, you have to embrace the revolution. Soon it will be too late. The voice of General Yunis bounces in all the cities of Cyrenaica and Tripolitania in those still in the hands of Saddam.
Here at the Benghazi spread the speakers hanging from lampposts. I do not think that where Gaddafi still commands widespread with such fervor. The insurgents are trying to deprive Qaddafi of his army to isolate it in the bunker of Tripoli, and invited the soldiers to desert. If one of their most famous general, Mohammed Ayat, let themselves be persuaded by an old friend Yunis, would be a good shot.
Some units loyal to Saddam infiltrated the western outskirts of Benghazi, just hours before the initiation of the Odyssey, when the French Mirage and Rafale flew not yet Benghazi, have laid down their arms. In the court building, site of the National Council, which functions as a committee of Liberation and the provisional government, they tell me they had found fifteen soldiers with their hands tied and with a shot in the neck.
They were deserters. Executed, I shall, by his companions. They had refused to fight. But the leaders of the insurgency does not make a lot of illusions. The bulk of the troops, landed near the port or coming from the coastal road or the inside of the desert, has retired and now is forty miles west of Benghazi.
He would put away to escape the British and French air raids, whose goal is to destroy the army's logistics Gaddafi, and crush to make it harmless. But those units were forced to retreat, and certainly intimidated by the air strikes even if not directed against them, the attack will start again soon.
In the main office houses the National Council not optimism prevails. Neurotic agitation reigns. The events justify it. The reception is still generous. All are eager to tell. Between computers and Kalashnikovs, including camouflage and jeans, smiled and shouted commands, I can barely take a few fragments of those stories that I will pour upon him.
No, the war did not end with the intervention of western aircraft, approved by the Arabs. Gaddafi will start again with the strong repression when raids will cease. It takes more to flush him out. The decision of the Security Council is providential. It is a vital breath of fresh air, but other hardships await Libya free.
I realize that death is the French flag, the size of a sheet, until Friday, hung on the facade of the building. Gratitude has already exhausted? I was assured that it is not. If there is no fault of the wind of the Mediterranean that has torn. Another version is that the insignia of France should be added to those of Britain and the United States.
So, the tribute must take on new proportions, as the missiles are intended to Gaddafi of many nationalities. There was a manhunt in the last two days in Benghazi. When the troops of Gaddafi on Friday moved closer to the periphery, in various districts revealed that a militia called the "fifth column".
The partisans of Saddam were holed up among the population. They were city dwellers, or people coming from outside. In several neighborhoods, including downtown, went out into the open arms in hand, to give the impression that the soldiers landed near the port, or arrived on the coast road, or from the desert, were to occupy the city.
But the "fifth column" did not know that the insurgents had managed to halt the offensive and then they dispersed the attackers, killing at least one hundred prisoners and many dead. The moles of Gaddafi, nestled in the heart of Benghazi, have tried to return to their hiding places, but many have been recognized, captured and killed.
And the bloody hunt continued for hours. Among the soldiers who tried to infiltrate Gaddafi in Benghazi there were foreigners. It is estimated that the whole of Libya are at least ten thousand, including several hundred from Chad. But there are also Ethiopians, Sudanese and Nigerians. African mercenaries are engaged in a war that is not theirs.
They have no way out. Desert is difficult. Some are hiding in the remote outskirts of Benghazi and the sporadic gunfire that you often hear the sounds reveal the ongoing hunt for the men hunted, Libyans and foreigners alike. The Africans are the remnants of pan-African policy promoted by Gaddafi in the seventies disappointed by the refusal of the Arabs to consider their leader.
They are also the result of his generosity towards the affected sub-Saharan dictators, who in return gave the mercenaries. I like the Libyans are ghosts, and as such provoke terror. The country is thus an arsenal of armed men that the Anglo-French air, blessed by the UN, it was difficult to disperse.
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