Measured - The fighting continues. Tameen the building, the tallest building in the city, where for weeks the snipers fired indiscriminately colonel, is conquered. On the roof, lying in wait, now there are snipers, insurgents with their sniper rifles in 1970. We climb the 11 flights of stairs, escorted by boys armed with Kalashnikovs that stop at every window to control the situation.
Then, when his hand reaches the nod, you run the next flight of stairs and so on to the roof. Waving high the banner of revolution, while the mortar shells shake the air. "There are at least 50 militants inside the fruit market Gaddafi - said Ibrahim, a 22-year-old forward and back in his car to supply ammunition to the comrades on the building - they have retired.
And do not withdraw, because then die under our fire. " The public hospital, the "Central Hospital of measure" at the end of Tripoli street. It is there that lurks the bulk of the troops of Gaddafi. To get in the ambulance is the only way. At the clinic where the dead and wounded are brought dissident army blowing up half with two doctors, who has just returned from the front.
A few minutes to allow the driver to clean up blood from the stretcher and the floor of the vehicle and away again at the forefront. We walk the narrow streets around Tripoli street with sirens blaring and the driver, the megaphone, yelling to be heard better by the boys at the checkpoints that raise the bar in the fast lane for emergency vehicles.
In 10 minutes we are at the "Faculty of Medical Technics." It was a school, which in this morning's blood has become a battleground. The doctor tells me now: "If I go to we can not guarantee your safety, because the battle on campus is very violent." I notice when opening the hole in the wall white.
The pick-up with Soviet-style machine guns firing incessantly. The shebab, the boys, as they call each other the rebels are stationed behind concrete walls and sand. Mohamed explains that while "there are a hundred soldiers in the last building nested before street Tripoli," a mortar round exploded on the roof of the house that gives us shelter.
The rebels rise to the cry of Allah Akbar and fire out of control entire magazine of bullets. For a hundred yards of the soldiers shouted. Four of them are on the ground injured. A dozen armed rebels lies down on the way that doctors must take to get to collect the wounded. While the paramedics with stretchers snap quickly into open areas between buildings and the other, younger people with the Kalashnikovs to protect them by firing volleys in the direction from which the shots come.
It takes about 20 minutes to retrieve the bodies of four, less than 300 meters from the ambulance and get out of hell "Faculty of Medical School. One of the four can not even get the ambulance. The bullets hit him in the stomach and head. He died without the doctors could try to revive him.
The other three are in a pool of blood. The part of a new ambulance with sirens blaring. Behind, while at full speed along the road towards the hospital, doctors try to revive the injured man with a heart massage. The screams are frantic. The ride takes 15 minutes. At the hospital we expect hundreds of people.
Everybody wants to do something and it all ends in a big mess. From 8 am, the hospital, arrived more than 14 dead and 50 wounded. Inside the concrete building of the clinic Alhikma no place and the wounded are moved by stretcher and IV pole in the tent normally used for prayer. Ambulances continued to carry corpses and wounded.
The battle, say the doctors on board, is still ongoing. Celebrations for the withdrawal of troops from Gaddafi to measure, yet we do not see. 
Then, when his hand reaches the nod, you run the next flight of stairs and so on to the roof. Waving high the banner of revolution, while the mortar shells shake the air. "There are at least 50 militants inside the fruit market Gaddafi - said Ibrahim, a 22-year-old forward and back in his car to supply ammunition to the comrades on the building - they have retired.
And do not withdraw, because then die under our fire. " The public hospital, the "Central Hospital of measure" at the end of Tripoli street. It is there that lurks the bulk of the troops of Gaddafi. To get in the ambulance is the only way. At the clinic where the dead and wounded are brought dissident army blowing up half with two doctors, who has just returned from the front.
A few minutes to allow the driver to clean up blood from the stretcher and the floor of the vehicle and away again at the forefront. We walk the narrow streets around Tripoli street with sirens blaring and the driver, the megaphone, yelling to be heard better by the boys at the checkpoints that raise the bar in the fast lane for emergency vehicles.
In 10 minutes we are at the "Faculty of Medical Technics." It was a school, which in this morning's blood has become a battleground. The doctor tells me now: "If I go to we can not guarantee your safety, because the battle on campus is very violent." I notice when opening the hole in the wall white.
The pick-up with Soviet-style machine guns firing incessantly. The shebab, the boys, as they call each other the rebels are stationed behind concrete walls and sand. Mohamed explains that while "there are a hundred soldiers in the last building nested before street Tripoli," a mortar round exploded on the roof of the house that gives us shelter.
The rebels rise to the cry of Allah Akbar and fire out of control entire magazine of bullets. For a hundred yards of the soldiers shouted. Four of them are on the ground injured. A dozen armed rebels lies down on the way that doctors must take to get to collect the wounded. While the paramedics with stretchers snap quickly into open areas between buildings and the other, younger people with the Kalashnikovs to protect them by firing volleys in the direction from which the shots come.
It takes about 20 minutes to retrieve the bodies of four, less than 300 meters from the ambulance and get out of hell "Faculty of Medical School. One of the four can not even get the ambulance. The bullets hit him in the stomach and head. He died without the doctors could try to revive him.
The other three are in a pool of blood. The part of a new ambulance with sirens blaring. Behind, while at full speed along the road towards the hospital, doctors try to revive the injured man with a heart massage. The screams are frantic. The ride takes 15 minutes. At the hospital we expect hundreds of people.
Everybody wants to do something and it all ends in a big mess. From 8 am, the hospital, arrived more than 14 dead and 50 wounded. Inside the concrete building of the clinic Alhikma no place and the wounded are moved by stretcher and IV pole in the tent normally used for prayer. Ambulances continued to carry corpses and wounded.
The battle, say the doctors on board, is still ongoing. Celebrations for the withdrawal of troops from Gaddafi to measure, yet we do not see.
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