Saddam was on the ground, on his knees, being hit by an old woman wrapped up in cloth, like a new born, hiding from the world. I shouted at her but she didn’t halt the blows so I punched her head, not once, but till she stopped and moved away. I dropped to the ground, on my knee, and cradled the man, lifting him into my arms as I would a baby. Now a crowd gathered shouting at me. But I didn’t falter, I carried him to safety shouting ‘He must be tried in fair and open court, he has secrets to reveal.’ I don’t know what happened next. My task was done.