Osama Younes cries as the body of his 15-year-old sister Sana is exhumed for forensic investigation in Mosul. —AP
After allegations surfaced that a single coalition strike killed hundreds of civilians in Mosul's al-Jadidah neighbourhood on March 17, the entire fight was put on hold for three weeks.
Under intense international pressure, the coalition sent a team into the city to investigate.
Iraq's special forces units were instructed that they were no longer allowed to call in strikes on buildings.
Instead, the forces were told to call in coalition airstrikes on gardens and roads adjacent to IS targets.
A WhatsApp group shared by coalition advisers and Iraqi forces coordinating airstrikes previously named “killing daesh 24/7” was wryly renamed “scaring daesh 24/7.”
“It was clear that the whole strategy in western Mosul had to be reconfigured,” said the Western diplomat.
But on the ground, Iraqi special forces officers said after the operational pause, they returned to the fight just as before. The Whatsapp group's name was changed back to “killing daesh.”
The Pentagon investigation into the March strike concluded that a US bomb resulted in the deaths of 105 civilians but ultimately blamed secondary explosions from IS-laid bombs.
The 500-pound bomb, the investigation concluded, “appropriately balanced the military necessity of neutralising (two IS) snipers.”
Witnesses and survivors told AP that IS had not set any explosives in the house that was hit, which was packed with families sheltering from the fighting.
At the time, just two American officers were fielding all allegations of civilian casualties in Iraq and Syria from a base in Kuwait. The team now has seven members, though none sets foot inside the city or routinely collects physical evidence.
The Americans say they do not have the resources to send a team into Mosul; an AP reporter visited the morgue six times in six weeks and spoke to morgue officials and staffers dozens of times in person and over the phone.
Because of what the coalition considers insufficient information, the majority of civilian casualty allegations are deemed “not credible” before an investigation ever begins.
Col. Joseph Scrocca, a coalition spokesman, defended the coalition figures in an interview in May, saying they may seem low because of a meticulous process designed to “get to the truth” and help protect civilians in the future.
“I do believe the victims of these strikes deserve to know what happened to their families. We owe them that,” Scrocca said.
Daoud Salem Mahmoud survived the fight for the Old City by hiding with his family in a windowless room deep inside their home.
With the fight over, Mahmoud now returns to his neighbourhood daily to retrieve the dead. He's recovered hundreds of bodies of extended family members and neighbours.
A large, imposing figure, Mahmoud breaks down in tears when asked to describe specific days or events at the height of the violence. But without a moment of hesitation he said he believes the fight to retake the city was worthwhile.
Despite the death and destruction, he said he now feels like his family has a chance at a future brighter than his own.
“Everything can be rebuilt, it's the lives lost that cannot be replaced,” he said, then shaking his head, added, “this war, it turned Mosul into a graveyard.”