THE BLACKSMITH

Samir Sabri Salim, 36, was born in Benghazi to parents of Palestinian heritage. He quit school after only a few years and entered his father’s business, working iron with a hammer and anvil. His rough, calloused hands and sinewy torso suggest years of manual labour, but he speaks about his craft with the delicacy of an artisan, describing the lattices and flowers he can shape from metal. He made windows, doors and small fences. It was a small business, but he earned enough to support a wife, two sons and two daughters. “They are young, but when they grow up I will teach them about our revolution,” Mr. Salim said, from a hospital bed in Ajdabiya. “I will teach them the meaning of freedom. They will know the difference in this country, 30 years from now, when they have freedom of thought, when Libya is at the forefront of civilization.” Before he can make Libya a leader among nations, however, Mr. Salim will need to learn how to walk. Shrapnel punched three holes in his foot and knee, and riddled one side of his body, as rebel forces battled for control of Bin Jawad on March 6. He described urban warfare in the small port town, house to house. It continued as he spoke and more wounded fighters arrived in the crowded ward.