CONSTANTINE MARKIDES was exclusive access aboard the USS Nashville from the US Navy evacuating nationals from the shores of Beirut. On the way back he spoke to some of the shell-shocked evacuees
THE USS Nashville transported about 500 Americans, many of Lebanese descent, in the early hours of Monday from Beirut to Cyprus. En route to Limassol, many of the evacuees described to the Cyprus Mail their ordeals in Lebanon.
Zeinab Hijazi, 21, and Abu-Fadel Hijazi, 17, had escaped from the border village of Yaroun in southern Lebanon, which suffered heavy shelling.
“One night an Apache helicopter came over us and lit up our apartment,” said Zeinab Hijazi. “It was very frightening.”
The Hijazis would have fled to north Lebanon earlier but they feared that Israeli aircraft were going to shell them.
Their grandparents, who were also on the USS Nashville, narrowly escaped with their lives after relocating from their house to their underground garage.
“They were counting the bomb explosions around them and lost count at 36,” Abu-Fadel Hijazi said.
That night after the grandparents took refuge in their garage, an Israeli bomb leveled their house.
“All Israel has done is kill civilians,” one woman cried out. “They’re killing old women, old men, children, everyone but Hizbollah. If they [Hizbollah and Israel] want to kill each other, okay, but don’t kill innocent people.”
Layla Chahine, 15, was traveling with family and relatives in a group of 15. Her father had to stay behind to protect their house.
“In Tyre people are breaking into the bakeries. They’re even robbing food out of houses now but not touching anything else.”
Dawn Garcia, 22, faced a different ordeal in the mountains north of Beirut. Israel had demolished the bridges and highways leading north, alleging they were trying to keep Hizbollah fighters in Beirut from fleeing into the mountains. As a result, Garcia had no way out.
“There are a few co-ops in the villages up there, but lately there has been only shampoo, detergent, pampers and coffee left. The food is gone.”
Garcia had contacted the US embassy in Beirut, who promised her a helicopter but was unable to deliver it. But those housing her had a friend in the embassy, so they contacted him.
The man, who knew a route into the mountains that had not yet been destroyed, drove on his own time and of his own goodwill to a halfway meeting point.
“There were helicopters flying over us as we descended, but he said that I shouldn’t worry. I didn’t know if they were American or Israeli.”
As a result of her altitude, Garcia had a bird’s eye perspective on the bombings. “After 12 days of hearing them I didn’t really react to them anymore. You can smell the fires and see them putting them out.”
Sally Ghalayini, who was working at an NGO in Beirut working with displaced peoples, was an exception to the typical evacuee desperate to escape Lebanon.
“I didn’t want to leave,” Ghalayini said. “It was because of my mother that I left.”
Ghalayini was living close to the Israeli bombing and though it was “sometimes gut-wrenchingly scary”, it did not dissuade her from going out at night for a drink and even to the beach.
“The other day there were only six people there [at the beach] when normally there are hundreds. But what else can we do? You can still find a few diehard Lebanese and reporters and you go out for a drink and have a good time.”
“The saddest thing, aside from the casualties, is the economic devastation. Beirut was the liveliest city.”
