Wounded Country

Wounded CountryThe Lieutenant spoke little English, but in his struggle to make himself understood to those American journalists in his charge, there were flashes of what might be described as poetry. This morning, while leading a dozen of us through the wreckage of the week's fifth explosion, he stopped abruptly and pointed to a large depression in the plaza directly in front of the security-police headquarters. "The wound," he announced uncertainly, and marched ahead. A moment later,...