In a hushed Baghdad, a family waits

Like the majority of Iraqis impoverished by two wars, 12 years of sanctions, and a government that has built vast palaces instead of new hospitals or schools, families this poor say they have little recourse now beyond divine Providence.

The timing of the war seems personal to them. Oldest son Ali, serving the compulsory term in the Iraqi military, is part of an anti-aircraft squad in the northern city of Mosul - a place where US air patrols have increased targeting of positions in a no-fly zone. His leave ends March 21, the day he must report back.

Ali's sister Amal will celebrate her 14th birthday on March 23 - a date she would dearly like to celebrate. But instead, she is convinced that it will be a day of battle.

Despite a computer exam coming up, Amal stopped going to classes on Monday - a decision she took with other students, after class on Sunday. "We told each other: 'If I die, please pray for me,'" Amal says. "All of the teachers are afraid of the war."

As a member of the ruling Baath Party youth group at her school, she attended an hour-long course late last week, taught by a uniformed civil defense official.

"They gave us first-aid training, told us to shut off all the lights in case of emergency, and told us not to store gas in the house," Amal says, as her siblings listen. "If you find anything strange on the street, don't touch it - it could be a bomb, or carry a disease."

Twin girls Duha and Hibba, 11, are still in school, and had exams Monday on religion and science. Duha tells of people she heard joking as they walked down the street, telling merchants to "close down your shops! [President] Bush is going to bomb!"

The family wonders what will happen to them.

"I feel comfortable - I don't feel that something strong is going to happen," says Fatima, 16, clearly voicing the contrarian view. "Bush said he won't bomb schools - he promised! He promised not to bomb schools or houses."

Hibba borrows a retort from her schoolteachers. "We are not afraid of Bush, and we are not afraid of his bombs," she says. "The greedy Bush wants to kill children and steal our oil.... Bush even wants our trees and simple things."

Brushing her sister's words aside, Fatima echoes the thoughts of many Iraqis on the eve of war. "Of course we are afraid, because ... some will lose family members and people close to them," Fatima says. "I'm afraid to lose anyone."

That is her mother's greatest fear, too, as she thinks of the coming battles and a likely American occupation.

"I'm afraid for our children, and [afraid of] any chaos - I don't know what will happen," Mrs. Methboub says, offering very sweet tea. "When we welcome a person very much, we make their tea sweet," she explains. "If Americans come, we will welcome them with tea, too," Amal interjects. "But without sugar."

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