Benghazi - Since last Friday stormed the prison, the barracks of the Praetorian Guard Colonel sumptuous burned two days ago, places the uprising has already become a pilgrimage. Gaddafi in Benghazi post is no longer a single policeman. All have fled or gone on the winning side. At every street corner, the boys make their contribution to the revolution, directing traffic and handing out to passers-martial air of the stars stripped from abandoned uniforms in a hurry.
But the first national memorial is the square where, on Sunday, the army fell under the lead 300. Since then he has presided day and night by thick squads of young people who, by their powerful skid pick-up, praise to a future of freedom. What was the central bed is now plowed by several holes and burned edges and a half a meter deep.
These are the holes dug by shells launched by the army against the opponents of the regime. Our Virgil, in what until a few days ago, it was hell of Libya, is the Charif Idriss, a professor of economics and leader of this revolt unexpected and overwhelming that sooner or later history annovererà hundreds of men and women who have performed heroic deeds, on the verge of martyrdom.
The day before yesterday, the new owners have enlisted the Benghazi to rebuild the local television and radio. In front of his new office, Nereggia just one of the police barracks on fire by insurgents. Inside the police station, among the debris of the looting, some beams still exhale smoke.
Penetrate into a small room without windows, with the center, a dentist's chair. "You see, there sat the poor man on duty, which the thugs of Gaddafi wanted to confess something," says the professor, before bending over to pick up from the ground a metal object. "That's when it happened that an opponent who refused to speak, these cutters were used to cut off his fingers, nose, ears or genitals.
Here and in other places like this we found a whole arsenal of medieval torture by the Inquisition." The professor agrees to take us to the hospital where the last week, only in the department of orthopedics, were made more than 200 operations to repair broken bones from bullets or shrapnel.
"The anesthetic is over very quickly, so surgeons have often had to do without," said Idriss. Each room is crowded with men, but also of children, injured in the clashes, which have legs bandaged heads or in traction. Just recognize the professor, even the most suffering are trying to raise your torso to greet him, drawing with your fingers churchilliana "V" for victory.
An elderly man, with unkempt beard and a red skullcap on his head, asks him a question: "Did you see what has combined this time the Chief?". "Do not worry," replied the professor replies. "In Benghazi, the head as you call it, I do not see anymore." A boy of about thirty with both legs in casts to shoot him at point blank said that was a mercenary Colonel, one of them, as telling the Libyans, who have been promised a generous reward for the killing of every protester.
Four in the afternoon and the town begins to fill with cars honking, men armed and smiling, dressed up in small families. On abandoned tanks in the streets there are some who takes pictures to capture the joy of triumph. The service order is in the hands of children. I'm too young, like those we have to cross numerous checkpoints along the road between Benghazi on the eastern border of the country.
Maybe someone will call the "revolution of the teenager." On some machines, there are those who shows his jubilation by firing shots into the air kalasknikov. In the frantic traffic that goes creandosi there are those who break between the cars in columns with a sign in his hand, a satirical cartoon, a puppet of the Colonel with a noose around his neck.
Is perceived by the crowd sporting euphoria. "People finally becomes aware that he won, to be rid forever of that butcher of Gaddafi, who for more than forty years has terrorized us." A parade procession composed solely of women, albeit surrounded by a cordon of bodyguards who are husbands, sons and boyfriends.
The pasionaria Benghazi will be 300 and they also ask the head of the Colonel. Must be a first since the sides of the parade all the movie with the phone, not to conceal any guilty guffaw. Now, ask the professor, what will happen? Who will manage the power vacuum left by the decapitation of the leadership of the regime? "But what power vacuum? We have already created a council of wise men, or a directory if you prefer to deal with the administration of the city, transport, electricity, supply of oil and so on.
It is composed of judges, doctors politicians, university professors, but also by those soldiers who refused to fire on protesters. " Returning to his office on the desk of the professor, we see a computer and at least ask him if he fails to connect to the Internet. "No, and this was the last gift they gave us the Colonel: to disrupt the network throughout the country.
He wants to know the last message we received on our e-mail before the blackout? A pathetic letter to Gaddafi which informed us that gives each citizen a bill of 10 Libyan dinars. But what he hoped to buy with little money? True, freedom is priceless, so as not to have one end of a nightmare.
Do you know what we feared most Libyans us for decades? Hanged to die. Maybe one fine morning of Ramadan. As often happened here. "It is already dark when we get back to that one that says Idriss, will soon be renamed Martyrs' Square or Square of the Liberation. Around each hole is sitting in silence, some twenty people.
On the nearby roadway, but , the same guys as before continue to sing songs, slogans, prayers. Until the exhaustion of the forces, the voice. "They will go on like this all night," said the professor. "Moreover, it is the first time in their lives can enjoy without fear of ending up in jail or hung from a rope.
" 
But the first national memorial is the square where, on Sunday, the army fell under the lead 300. Since then he has presided day and night by thick squads of young people who, by their powerful skid pick-up, praise to a future of freedom. What was the central bed is now plowed by several holes and burned edges and a half a meter deep.
These are the holes dug by shells launched by the army against the opponents of the regime. Our Virgil, in what until a few days ago, it was hell of Libya, is the Charif Idriss, a professor of economics and leader of this revolt unexpected and overwhelming that sooner or later history annovererà hundreds of men and women who have performed heroic deeds, on the verge of martyrdom.
The day before yesterday, the new owners have enlisted the Benghazi to rebuild the local television and radio. In front of his new office, Nereggia just one of the police barracks on fire by insurgents. Inside the police station, among the debris of the looting, some beams still exhale smoke.
Penetrate into a small room without windows, with the center, a dentist's chair. "You see, there sat the poor man on duty, which the thugs of Gaddafi wanted to confess something," says the professor, before bending over to pick up from the ground a metal object. "That's when it happened that an opponent who refused to speak, these cutters were used to cut off his fingers, nose, ears or genitals.
Here and in other places like this we found a whole arsenal of medieval torture by the Inquisition." The professor agrees to take us to the hospital where the last week, only in the department of orthopedics, were made more than 200 operations to repair broken bones from bullets or shrapnel.
"The anesthetic is over very quickly, so surgeons have often had to do without," said Idriss. Each room is crowded with men, but also of children, injured in the clashes, which have legs bandaged heads or in traction. Just recognize the professor, even the most suffering are trying to raise your torso to greet him, drawing with your fingers churchilliana "V" for victory.
An elderly man, with unkempt beard and a red skullcap on his head, asks him a question: "Did you see what has combined this time the Chief?". "Do not worry," replied the professor replies. "In Benghazi, the head as you call it, I do not see anymore." A boy of about thirty with both legs in casts to shoot him at point blank said that was a mercenary Colonel, one of them, as telling the Libyans, who have been promised a generous reward for the killing of every protester.
Four in the afternoon and the town begins to fill with cars honking, men armed and smiling, dressed up in small families. On abandoned tanks in the streets there are some who takes pictures to capture the joy of triumph. The service order is in the hands of children. I'm too young, like those we have to cross numerous checkpoints along the road between Benghazi on the eastern border of the country.
Maybe someone will call the "revolution of the teenager." On some machines, there are those who shows his jubilation by firing shots into the air kalasknikov. In the frantic traffic that goes creandosi there are those who break between the cars in columns with a sign in his hand, a satirical cartoon, a puppet of the Colonel with a noose around his neck.
Is perceived by the crowd sporting euphoria. "People finally becomes aware that he won, to be rid forever of that butcher of Gaddafi, who for more than forty years has terrorized us." A parade procession composed solely of women, albeit surrounded by a cordon of bodyguards who are husbands, sons and boyfriends.
The pasionaria Benghazi will be 300 and they also ask the head of the Colonel. Must be a first since the sides of the parade all the movie with the phone, not to conceal any guilty guffaw. Now, ask the professor, what will happen? Who will manage the power vacuum left by the decapitation of the leadership of the regime? "But what power vacuum? We have already created a council of wise men, or a directory if you prefer to deal with the administration of the city, transport, electricity, supply of oil and so on.
It is composed of judges, doctors politicians, university professors, but also by those soldiers who refused to fire on protesters. " Returning to his office on the desk of the professor, we see a computer and at least ask him if he fails to connect to the Internet. "No, and this was the last gift they gave us the Colonel: to disrupt the network throughout the country.
He wants to know the last message we received on our e-mail before the blackout? A pathetic letter to Gaddafi which informed us that gives each citizen a bill of 10 Libyan dinars. But what he hoped to buy with little money? True, freedom is priceless, so as not to have one end of a nightmare.
Do you know what we feared most Libyans us for decades? Hanged to die. Maybe one fine morning of Ramadan. As often happened here. "It is already dark when we get back to that one that says Idriss, will soon be renamed Martyrs' Square or Square of the Liberation. Around each hole is sitting in silence, some twenty people.
On the nearby roadway, but , the same guys as before continue to sing songs, slogans, prayers. Until the exhaustion of the forces, the voice. "They will go on like this all night," said the professor. "Moreover, it is the first time in their lives can enjoy without fear of ending up in jail or hung from a rope.
"
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