Iraq — In the past year alone,
43-year-old Omar says he's watched hundreds die. Or as he describes it, "boom,
gone, the end."
an administrator of one of the busiest hospitals in Fallujah, in Iraq's restive
Anbar province. First, his brother nearly lost a leg in a mortar attack. Then,
his neighbor's home was destroyed in shelling. Soon after, his mother narrowly
missed a bombing in their once-placid neighborhood. But it wasn't until he
watched a 5-year-old girl in a bright pink shirt take her last gasp of air
outside his office, her body torn apart from shelling, that he knew he had to
leave his hometown. Life in Iraq, as he puts it, has become an endless flow of
"dark, dark red."