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His soldier son, 19-year-old Yodat, was taken prisoner as he defended the Euprhates River town of Nasiriyah, 200 kilometres (124 miles) to the northwest.
"It seems as if he was surrounded and gave himself up," says Ismail, an ex-soldier, who adds that he doesn't even know whether Yodat is in the camp, which the Red Cross says is housing more than 3,000 prisoners of war.
Along with Ismail, many other parents, brothers, uncles or wives of Iraqis captured by US or British troops show up each day at the gates to this camp, where they wait in vain for hours under a punishing sun in hopes that someone will tell them the loved one they are seeking is inside and is okay.
Fadila left her five children to come to the camp.
"Four days ago they took my husband and my brother from our house in Al-Jabjus. They are civilians. I swear they didn't do anything wrong," she exclaims.
Most of those who show up here have a similar story, telling of how innocent relatives were "unjustly" taken prisoner. But when asked if perhaps the loved one in question might have belonged to Iraq's ruling Baath party or to a pro-Saddam Hussein militia, they respond with a nervous laugh.
"We don't want to talk about politics. It's too dangerous," says Ali, who has been coming every day for the past week to look for his nephew, who was captured near Iraq's second city Basra as he drove his taxi.
"We only want them to give us the names of those who are detained inside, know that they are alright and then leave," Ali says.
But that's the catch.
Each day at noon, a British captain, accompanied by an interpreter, explains to the assembled families and friends that the Red Cross has responsibility for these matters and that the military cannot give out the names of prisoners.
Unfortunately, the Red Cross still doesn't have an office in southern Iraq, with officials crossing the nearby border each day from Kuwait on specific missions.
That means there is virtually no chance of getting any news.
"It breaks our hearts to see these people every day waiting for news, but the Geneva convention is clear with respect to this," says the captain, who is not permitted to give his name. "The Red Cross works in the field identifying and registering each prisoner, and it will get in contact with the families."
But the women, dressed from head to foot in black, their faces covered in the presence of strangers, don't understand. For days they have waited for hours in hopes of some news, as they gather round the captain, sobbing and trying to hand him little slips of paper with a name written on it.
Tamara al-Rifai, spokeswoman for the International Committee of the Red Cross, says the organization is studying the best way to do its job.
"For now," she says, "our personnel are meeting privately with each of the prisoners ... who is given a medical examination and an personal identity card," she says.
According to the US Central Command in Doha, there are more than 4,000 Iraqi POWs, but the British government has said the number could be as high as
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