On the top floor of the mosque were nine artillery shells, mixed in with boxes of tile. In the back of the compound was an ice cream truck, its sides colorfully decorated with orange, red and blue popsicles. Inside it was packed with rocket-propelled grenades and bomb-making materials.
"This was probably a traveling I.E.D. factory," General Natonski said, using the military term for improvised explosive devices, or homemade bombs.
The bizzare, absurdity of war
Also found in the house were files showing the names of people who had been tortured and executed for cooperating with the Americans and their allies, military officials said.
There were also more than 500 letters from the families of insurgents who had been killed or wounded, asking for compensation from Mr. Janabi, said a military translator on the scene. They included the families of fighters from Lebanon, Jordan, Yemen, Syria, Algeria, and about 100 native Fallujans.
Not to mention the horror. Things must have been pretty well institutionalized if the families of the dead foreign jihadis knew where to send letters to ask for compensation.
Upstairs were two red-and-blue tricycles, and a children's primer for learning English. A fridge stood open in the kitchen, with a plate of rice visible inside, three yogurt containers, a half-rotten apricot.
After touring the house, the general sat down to chat briefly in the living room with a dozen officers and marines, including Capt. Drew McNulty, whose men had discovered the house that morning. A detonation shook the windows.
"If you were a glass merchant in this city - ," he said. The men laughed, and there was a pause. General Natonski looked up and smiled. "Who would have thought three or four weeks ago we'd be sitting in Janabi's living room?" he said.
Again, the absurdity, the unexpected wacky humor.
Great insight into the state of mind of the leadership.