THE man pictured cradling his dead brother in his arms during Russia's onslaught on Gori is destined to become an iconic photo of war and its futility.
A news photographer captured the moment when impersonal, hi-tech war became intolerably human; when a man wept for his brother and his grief seemed to encapsulate all the victims of all wars.
Now Zaza Rasmadze, 35, has told for the first time how
his brother Zviadi 33, came to perish.
"I held him and held him because I simply did not want to let him go," said Mr Rasmadze.
"I wanted to hold him forever so that all who knew him could come and mourn him."
On Saturday, 9 August at 10am Mr Rasmadze, a former soldier in the Georgian army, left his home in Gori to distribute bread to his former comrades. His brother, his wife and his nephew remained in their flat, their Lada car parked outside.
Car-parts salesman Zviadi told his brother shortly beforehand that he hoped "the war will not come to us here".
Mr Rasmadze said: "As I stood with the soldiers nearby I heard the Russian warplanes coming. We threw ourselves at the ground.
"Then the bombs fell and the earth shook. I am a God -fearing man and I prayed.
"The Russian jets came over in several waves, their bombs falling between the houses, hitting people who didn't have anything to do with fighting, who just happened to live in this country.
"As they banked away I saw black smoke rising from the apartments where my brother lived. I started to run over the smoking earth.
"I ran through the rubble, looking for someone alive. I was convinced that Zviadi still lived.
"I searched left, right, all over. I didn't even notice when I tripped over him.
"I turned and recognised by him by his shirt.
"I sank to the ground and embraced him.
"He had shrapnel in the chest. Blood ran from his ears; he had no pulse."
The next day Mr Rasmadze returned to the spot and saw the corpse of his brother's eight-month pregnant wife nearby. Both her legs had been blown off and her stomach was ripped open. She lay not far from her husband.
Mr Rasmadze said: "One must write such things, and such things must be read, because otherwise humans will never understand what war means.
"Georgian soldiers wanted him to go with them but I wouldn't allow him to go. He was a part of me, we had spent all our lives together."
The family had fled outside when the first bombs began falling only to be caught in the open by more of them.
The only survivor was Dimitri, aged seven, now seriously ill in hospital with shrapnel wounds.
"He hardly speaks," said Mr Rasmadze.
"He keeps putting his hands to his ears and keeps on diving beneath the bedclothes as if he hears the bombs raining down."
There was no room at the mortuary for Zviadi. "So I wrapped him in one of my shirts and buried him someplace where I hope the bombs won't get him again," said Mr Rasmadze.
"He was my brother, I loved him.
"And this is what war does."
The full article contains 549 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
