Robert Fisk-British Journalist in Kandahar province doing an interview: Out of a dust-storm came a woman in a grey shawl. "I lost my daughter two days ago,'' she wailed. "The Americans bombed our home in Kandahar and the roof fell on her.'' Amid the chaos and shouting, I did what reporters do. Out came my notebook and pen. Name? "Muzlifa.'' Age? "She was two.'' I turn away. "Then there was my other daughter.'' She nods when I ask if this girl died too. "At the same moment. Her name was Farigha. She was three.'' I turn away. "There wasn't much left of my son.'' Notebook out for the third time. "When the roof hit him, he was turned to meat and all I could see were bones. His name was Sherif. He was a year and a half old.''
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