Babylon's Ark: The Incredible Wartime Rescue of the Baghdad Zoo by Lawrence Anth

Description: Babylon's Ark by Lawrence Anthony, Graham Spence Chronicles the Baghdad zoos transformation from bombed-out rubble to peaceful park. This title recounts hair-raising efforts to save a pride of the dictators lions, close a deplorable black-market zoo, and rescue Saddams Arabian horses. FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Publisher Description When the Iraq war began, conservationist Lawrence Anthony could think of only one thing: the fate of the Baghdad Zoo, located in the city centre and caught in the wars crossfire. Once Anthony entered Baghdad he discovered that full-scale combat and uncontrolled looting had killed nearly all the animals of the zoo. But not all of them. US soldiers had taken the time to help care for the remaining animals, and the zoos staff had returned to work in spite of the constant firefights. Together the Americans and Iraqis had managed to keep alive the animals that had survived the invasion.Babylons Ark chronicles the zoos transformation from bombed-out rubble to peaceful park. Along the way, Anthony recounts hair-raising efforts to save a pride of the dictators lions, close a deplorable black-market zoo, and rescue Saddams Arabian horses. His unique ground-level experience makes Babylons Ark an uplifting story of both sides working together for the sake of innocent animals caught in the wars crossfire. Author Biography Lawrence Anthony is an acclaimed conservationist and founder of the Earth Organization. He received the UNs Earth Day award (making him the first South African to receive the award) for his work in Baghdad. He lives in Zululand, South Africa. Review "* "Terrific tale about how Iraqis, a South African conservationist and American soldiers saved the animals of the Baghdad Zoo... A wartime story with a joyful ending."... Kirkus Reviews" The Nile Staff Review We all count the human cost when war breaks out, but what about the animals? When the United States attacked Iraq, South African conservationist Lawrence Anthony launched a mercy mission to help save the animals of the Baghdad Zoo. Not only did he have to contend with violence from both sides, looting was rampant by desperate Iraqis, and food supplies - for both the animals and the remaining zoo staff members - were meagre. Itâ™s not always an easy read â" war stories never are â" but itâ™s amazing what passion and dedication can achieve against the odds. Kelly@ The NileRead the rest of Kellys reviews here. Review Quote The rare Iraq war book that could conceivably be called uplifting. Excerpt from Book Babylons Ark ONE O N THE EASTERN SIDE of the border hundreds of civilian vehicles were jammed up bumper-to-bumper, gridlocked on the desert sands as crowds queued to get out of war-torn Iraq. On the Kuwaiti side, there was just one car among all the military hardware waiting to get in. Mine. Or more correctly, it was mine for as long as I paid the fees. If the rental company had known I was taking one of their spanking new vehicles into the war zones of Baghdad, they would have had a conniption. The border sentry held up the stamped permit granting me permission to enter Iraq. He squinted at it incredulously. It was legitimate. But ... still. The astonishment on his face was almost comical. This was too weird for him to grasp. He poked his head inside my wound-down drivers window,his face a foot or so from mine, and then looked at us as though we were escapees from an asylum. My two Arab companions from the Kuwait City zoo focused their eyes straight ahead, studiously avoiding his scrutiny. "You guys sure you want to go to Baghdad? Dont you know theres a war on?" I nodded. "Were going to try to rescue the zoo there." He still looked flabbergasted, so I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder. "Theres half a ton of supplies in the back." The soldier eyeballed me, disbelief on his face, and glanced at the permit again. "Therere animals in Baghdad?" "We hope so. The zoo there was once the finest in Arabia." "Man, people are shooting each other there. For real. Forget about animals. Youve got to worry about your own sorry asses." He gestured in front of us to the other side of the border. "Look at all these cars. Everybody else is trying to get out. And you want to go in?" "Weve got to get these supplies in. Urgently." "Okaaay." The soldier pondered for a moment, then smiled. "This is crazy. Youre the first civilians in--apart from some newsies, but they dont count." I forced a grin. Maybe this was all insane. Maybe he was right, I should be somewhere else. My elation that my mission was at last under way was starting to deflate a little. But it was too late for that. The soldier walked to the barrier gate and shoved it open. "Just stick to the main road, obey military instructions, and follow real close to the convoys, okay? Were getting several hits a day from the ragtops on the road." This was valid advice, I thought. Advice, however, that my two Kuwaiti assistants, on loan from the Kuwait City zoo, had no intention of heeding. As soon as we came to an intersection on the highway they made signs for me to stop. They then climbed out, opened the trunk, and rummaged for a box of tools. With a few turns of a screwdriver, they whipped off the Kuwaiti license plates. Alarmed, I asked what they were doing. But as my Arabic waslimited to "Salaam Aleikum" and the Kuwaitis English was equally scant, communication was a challenge. "American ..." The Kuwaiti named Abdullah Latif made a shooting motion and pointed at himself. I grasped what he meant. They were concerned the soldiers might target them as Arabs and equally concerned that if they were seen in a foreign convoy, Iraqi fighters would consider them collaborators. All very well, but what about me? My instructions had been specifically to stick to the main Baghdad Highway and stay with the numerous military convoys speeding to the Iraqi capital. Indeed, in the hour or so it had taken us to drive from Kuwait City, cross the border, and enter Iraq, I had seen more military vehicles than you would find in the entire South African army. Thats where I wanted to be, safety in numbers. I knew too well that a Westerner on the back roads was a prime target for remnants of Saddams army or the scores of feral fedayeen gangs who were fanatically loyal to the deposed dictator. And I, six feet and four inches tall, with a pale complexion and blue eyes, looked about as un-Semitic as you could get. I pointed at myself and also made a shooting motion. "Iraqis shoot me." The Kuwaitis shook their heads and one spoke animatedly in Arabic. I gathered they were telling me they would refuse point-blank to travel on the main road, but I would be safe with them as they were Arabs and they could talk their way out of any situation. I looked at the road ahead, a narrow ribbon of potholed tarmac, mirage shimmering in the hot air. It suddenly looked very desolate. There would be no American or British soldiers for hundreds of miles. I felt as conspicuous as a match in a fireworks factory. But my guides from the Kuwait Zoo were not going to change their minds, so what the heck ... there was not much I could do about it. I couldnt very well order them back onto the highway. So I might as well enjoy the ride into bandit territory and hope like hell the clouds of billowing desert dust would disguise the fact that I was a Westerner in no-mans-land. The barren landscape we were speeding through radiated hostility, and I somewhat ruefully reflected that making a ten-hour journey through the back roads and alleys of a war zone might not have been the most intelligent thing I had ever done. But it was too late to turn back now, so I slouched low in the front passenger seat. Well, about as low as I could. The Toyota was not exactly built for someone as big as me to hunker down in. All the while I pictured Iraqi fedayeen, militia fighters specifically trained to hail Saddam Hussein as a cult figure, hiding in the dunes and relishing the opportunity to hijack a car. An unarmed white man would be the juiciest prize for them imaginable. I had no illusions that being a neutral South African would cut much ice with renegade gunmen. I was a visible Westerner, and as far as Saddams Baathist fanatics were concerned, any foreigner would do. I forced the grim visuals out of my mind. At least I had two Arabs with me, even though they were Kuwaitis. However, that illusion was soon dispelled when my companions confirmed, through vigorous sign language and an interesting repertoire of facial expressions, that another reason they had taken off the Kuwaiti registration plates earlier was because there was no love lost between them and the Iraqis. Thanks to Saddams vicious propaganda, most Iraqis believed Kuwait was the reason for the American invasion in the first place. Not only was I a Westerner far off the beaten track, but the welcome mat wasnt exactly out for my Arab companions, either. As we drove deeper into the country, passing through remote villages unchanged since biblical times, I started to unwind a little. In fact, I even began to enjoy the view. It was like diving into another world where people were rooted in time immemorial: they had survived Saddam; they would survive the foreigners; they would survive the fedayeen. In among the squat-roofed mud buildings, women drew water from communal wells as they had in the days of the prophet Muhammad, while overburdened donkeys with drowsy eyes watched children running barefoot in the swirling dust. Time truly stood still. We traveled fast to make sure armed gangs werent following us. But even so, whenever the car had to slow down for loitering donkeys or camels, villagers did stunned double takes when they realized a white man was inside. Being in the only brand-new vehicle among the banged-up relics on the road also drew a lot of unwelcome attention to us. I felt dread creep into my belly. Surely the fedayeen would soon know about me. Indeed, the rolling desert sands fringing the road could be hiding hundreds of Saddam loyalists. At one stage I saw at the roadside a man dressed in Bedouin robes that contrasted starkly with his wraparound sunglasses. He appeared unarmed, but there could be anything under those flowing garments. As we went past, he stared coldly before swiftly turning and disappearing down the back of a dune. Whom was he going to tell? Behind him, the skies were black with the greasy smoke from burning oil wells blazing red and orange in the distance. It must have the most expensive pollution in the world. At another village we passed a group of men gathered under a cluster of wizened palm trees. Hookah pipes were bubbling on top of a box, and the groups transformation from soporific lethargy to instant alertness when they noticed me was unnerving. I felt exposed, alien. Whenever we entered larger towns we had to slow considerably to ease through the narrow, congested streets and I crouched on the floor, the gap between the dashboard and front seat squeezing me as tightly as a python. These were the most dangerous moments in the journeys. Gunmen were more likely to be lurking on these urban perimeters, and the mere glimpse of a Westerner could trigger a hailstorm of lead. Squashed, sweaty, and uncomfortable, with only a thin metallic skin protecting me, I knew how a sardine felt. Even the Kuwaitis were silent. Abdullah, a self-assured, well-built young man of about thirty-five who was keen to get to Baghdad to find lost family, was pensive and alert. His partner, who didnt speak a word of English, wasquite the opposite; slightly built and unassuming, he sat in the back of the car in silence. They were originally both as keen as mustard to come with me to Baghdad; the war was over, after all, and it was a chance for a bit of an adventure and a few days off from their jobs. Now that we were actually here, misgivings were beginning to surface. The atmosphere in Iraq hung like a pall and had tempered their ardor somewhat. As it h Details ISBN0312382154 Author Graham Spence Short Title BABYLONS ARK Language English ISBN-10 0312382154 ISBN-13 9780312382155 Media Book Format Paperback Illustrations Yes Year 2008 Subtitle The Incredible Wartime Rescue of the Baghdad Zoo Place of Publication California Country of Publication United States Edition 1st Imprint Saint Martins Griffin,U.S. DOI 10.1604/9780312382155 US Release Date 2008-07-08 UK Release Date 2008-07-08 Translated from English Pages 256 Publisher Griffin Publishing Publication Date 2008-07-08 DEWEY 590.7356747 Audience General AU Release Date 2008-09-30 NZ Release Date 2008-09-30 We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. With fast shipping, low prices, friendly service and well over a million items - you're bound to find what you want, at a price you'll love! TheNile_Item_ID:137279888;

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