Inside the city: Lara Marlowe witnessed the appearance of US forces in the beleaguered Iraqi capital yesterday
The arrival of US forces in central Baghdad yesterday was announced by the clatter of bombers and A-10 "tank-buster" aircraft, artillery and gunfire.
Around 8.15 a.m., four Bradley armoured fighting vehicles emerged from a line of eucalyptus trees on the west bank of the Tigris river, at the edge of the Palace of the Republic presidential complex.
The four-kilometre-long complex was the geographical heart of Saddam Hussein's regime. The Americans must have arrived there soon after dawn, because they opened fire on the Iraqi soldiers at the tip of the promontory in the river, to provide cover for the Bradleys. The APCs drove back and forth along the top of the river bank, while mortar shells exploded with a "pop, pop, pop" on the sandy end of the bend in the river. The Iraqis had dug in there, with underground bunkers and four or five anti-aircraft artillery pieces.
Half a kilometre away, across the river in the Palestine Hotel, where the foreign press corps is staying, word of the Americans' arrival spread quickly. As the mortar bombardment got under way, the balconies on the upper floors of the hotel filled with journalists.
Up to 30 Iraqi soldiers fled the bunkers and artillery emplacement. Most ran along the bottom of the river embankment, towards the US Bradleys, but below them. One soldier, in white underwear and vest, appeared to have been woken from his sleep. Another limped as he ran. Two others ran in the opposite direction and disappeared from sight at the bend in the river, leading to speculation that they dived in, in the hope of swimming away.
Two Iraqis lying on the ground, at the feet of the Americans, were at first thought to be dead. But one stood up, his arms pinned behind his back, a prisoner of war, taken in the centre of Baghdad.
Meanwhile, a half dozen US servicemen climbed out of the Bradleys and took cover in the line of trees, then disappeared into the foliage. Perhaps they were the ones who showed up later on blurry television footage of marines showering in Saddam's marble bathrooms with gold-plated taps, lounging by his swimming pool, descending his spiral staircase. After the constant bombing of the palaces, it was incredible to see chandeliers still hanging from the ceilings.
The Pentagon said US armed forces - allegedly 100 tanks and APCs - might not stay in central Baghdad. This was just a "show of force", a demonstration of their ability to go where they wanted, when they wanted. But the battle for the presidential complex continued all day, shaking the capital with each exploding artillery shell, filling the sky with smoke and dust and the smell of gunpowder.
Late in the afternoon, the Americans blew up an ammunition dump by the river's edge. The detonations continued for nearly an hour.
At nightfall, two of the Bradleys could still be seen. Perhaps the complex is too strategic a location to be abandoned after a "probing mission". Two US F-18s patrolled the evening sky, flying so low they could be seen. Iraqi anti-aircraft artillery didn't bother opening fire. Baghdad is now officially under a 6 p.m. until 6 a.m. curfew. Still without electricity, the city was dark and empty, except for the sound of explosions.
A few hours after the humiliating seizure of the presidential complex, the Iraqi Information Minister, Mr Mohamed Said al-Sahaf, held an impromptu press conference on the second- floor terrace of the Palestine Hotel. While the artillery battle continued behind him, at times drowning out his words, Mr al-Sahaf insisted there were no US or British troops in central Baghdad.
Fox News was showing live footage of marines in Saddam's bathrooms, but Mr al-Sahaf was in denial. The Americans were "committing suicide on the defences of Baghdad," he said. Asked how he felt about seeing the invaders on the west bank of the Tigris, Mr al-Sahaf tried to minimise the blow.
"They pushed a few of their APCs and some of their tanks in," he admitted. "We besieged them and their soldiers. We will slaughter them all, these invaders."
The publicity stunt on the west bank of the Tigris was "to divert attention," he said. "They lost the battle last night. There are none of their troops anywhere in Baghdad."
Iraqi newspapers could be forgiven for not covering the taking of the presidential complex, which occurred after their deadlines. But there was no mention, not a jot, about the US seizure of Baghdad Airport or the incursions into southern Baghdad on Saturday and Sunday.
Instead, front-page headlines announced that Iraqi forces had destroyed 27 tanks and 13 APCs. President Saddam Hussein had posthumously decorated two women "martyrs". And the Iraqi leader received congratulatory telegrams on the 56th anniversary of the founding of the Baath Party from the deputy chairman of the Revolutionary Command Council and his Vice-President, Mr Taha Yassin Ramadan.
Mr al-Sahaf was particularly enraged by reports on the Qatari television network, al-Jazeera, that the Americans had taken the ministry of information - his ministry - and the al-Rashid Hotel.
Al-Jazeera is the most watched network in the Arab world, which Iraq has tried to woo with appeals for unity and jihad.
The Qatari station was "marketing for the Americans," he said in disgust, warning the rest of us: "Don't do this. Look for the truth. Be accurate and precise."
The ministry then arranged a bus tour, to prove that al-Jazeera was lying. More than anything else, it demonstrated that Baghdad has become a divided capital, with some shops open and traffic continuing in Risafa (the east bank of the Tigris), while Karkh (the west bank) has become a battlefield.
Motorists are still able to drive freely across bridges, but in Karkh there are only armed men in the streets. Driving back to Risafa gives you the feeling you've been ambushed.
On the east side of every major bridge, Iraqi forces have set up their best defences - tanks, APCs, rocket launchers. Yesterday, for the first time, I saw glimmering bayonets fixed on the end of rifles. The Iraqis apparently believe the Americans will cross the bridges, though reports from embedded journalists indicate they're also on the eastern perimeter of the capital, and could advance from that direction.
Mr al-Sahaf was right about the information ministry, if nothing else. Yet again, the US strategy of quick, in-and-out raids allowed him to claim that Iraqi forces "drove out the Americans".
The Americans may have been there earlier in the morning, but by the time we reached the bomb-damaged building, there were only black-clad "Saddam Fedayeen" there, smoking cigarettes and clutching rocket-propelled grenades.
The al-Rashid was another story. Dozens of militiamen milled around the intersection where one would normally turn left to reach Baghdad's most famous hotel. All of the militiamen carried rocket-propelled grenades. Some had rucksacks on their backs holding bundles of the trumpet-shaped weapons, lined up like baguettes in a French bakery.
The strip of boulevard leading to the al-Rashid had the sinister, abandoned look of a demarcation line. Instead, we took a narrow lane behind the foreign ministry, in the hope of going around from the other side. But several gunshots were fired - I don't know by whom or in what direction - and a field gun on the next block fired orange-flamed volleys towards the river. The bus driver turned away from the hotel, looping back around past the empty bus station and desolate market stalls. Our little sorties with the ministry grow shorter and shorter. . .
At the fire station, even the firemen in their blue jumpsuits were holding Kalashnikovs. Back in east Baghdad, I saw what looked like a middle-class boy of 12 or 13 clutching an assault rifle as he chatted happily with a group of women and children.
The police made another "victory round" in front of the Palestine Hotel - now an entrenched habit, each time the Iraqis suffer a setback. For despite Mr al-Sahaf's claims about "the heroic people of Baghdad", and Saddam Hussein's calls for mobilisation, the mood has changed since US forces began attacking the capital. There are still thousands of hardened fighters, but defiance seems to be melting into resignation.
A resident of al-Junub (South) Street, who saw the jubilation over an Abrams tank destroyed on Sunday, told me how the Americans came back yesterday, before dawn. "There were Apaches, jets, and six US tanks," he said. "The muezzin cried 'Allahu Akbar' from the mosque. Then the Americans bombed the machine-gun position. The muezzin stopped then - he didn't even finish the prayer call."
Driving to work, the same man saw a US tank wave a taxi driver across Jadriya Bridge. "Go, go, go," the soldier shouted at the Baghdadi. The man who told me the story was smiling.