Back to Iraq: The people

John Nichol, freely visiting the country where he was held prisoner

Ten years after being shot down, captured and tortured during the Gulf War, former RAF navigator John Nichol travels back to Iraq. In his third and final report, the BBC's Paul Welsh accompanies John on his journey to meet the ordinary people of the country.

The inside of the Amiriya shelter is still a shocking place, ten years after an American missile ripped through its roof killing over 400 people.

It is now kept as a shrine to the dead, pictures of them hang on walls which are blackened by fire from the explosion.

On one wall the silhouette of a woman vaporised by the heat of the bomb - on the floor wreaths and bouquets to the dead.

In the ceiling the gaping hole where the missile entered, the metal rods from the reinforced concrete bent back like grotesque fingers reaching in towards you.

John Nichol has dropped bombs and missiles in combat and has been bombed by his own side while a prisoner of war.

The Amiriya shelter is now a shrine to the dead

He knows what bombs are designed to do and the effect they have, but he admits he has never seen anything like this.

"When you walk in and see the destruction of it, see it close up, it makes you sad that it happens at all; but sometimes it does".

For a few moments he stares in silence at the sunshine breaking through the gaping hole above us.

"It's a haunting place. It's a place that captures and signifies the reality of modern warfare."

John has seen the video pictures taken by the aircraft which fired on this place; the black and white pictures with a cross hair which became famous in the Gulf War.

Clinical images of destruction: "This is not a cross hair on a target. It is brutal, it is horrific and it kills real people".

This is John's first chance to see Iraq properly, to meet the people of Baghdad. During the war he was blindfolded whenever he was moved.

We walk through the old market, soaking in the atmosphere, the noise, the smell of the brightly coloured spices on sale.

These people know John tried to bomb their country, but he is warmly welcomed.

John recieves a warm welcome from the locals

He tries to buy some Arabic sweets, the stall holder insists they are a gift and will not take any money.

"I didn't expect anyone to be unpleasant or anything like that," John says as we stroll.

"But on the other hand, I didn't expect them to be quite as friendly as they have been. Everywhere we've gone people have said hello and waved."

In the oldest street in Baghdad, dating back to the Ottoman empire, we drink tea. In the corner of Hassan Adjmi teahouse there's a huge collection of old brass water boilers, and a row of modern aluminium teapots brewing.

The room is half dark, filled with the sound of conversation, the rattle of backgammon dice, the clatter of dominoes.

Old men smoke through ancient water cooled pipes, deep in thought.

The thinkers of Baghdad gather in the teahouse

These are the thinkers of Baghdad: professors, writers and wise old men.

"Iraq won the war," one of them tells John. "You don't believe you lost the war with Iraq. The future is more beautiful for Iraqi people than English."

The war may be over, but the conflict continues; not just in the tea rooms here.

Sanctions still limit what Iraq can buy and sell. American and British aircraft patrol daily stopping Iraqi jets flying. They bomb most weeks.

As we prepare to leave we visit the parade ground, beneath the huge crossed Arab swords which have become one of the famous sights of Baghdad.

John Nichol was afraid as we entered Iraq, now he is sad to leave.

"I feel quite melancholy. It's been a journey of discovery, seeing places I never expected to see. It's been a journey of learning, for somebody to say this is where you were, go and have a look. I will go away from here with fond memories."

A journey which began ten years ago has finally ended.