Las Vegas SUN: Fourth Anniversary of the Fall of Baghda One day last spring, a dozen men in black uniforms knocked down her door with machine guns. They screamed "Filthy Sunnis!" and they handcuffed her sons: Haqqi, 39, Qais, 37, Ali, 31. "Why? What did my boys do?" the mother cried. She got no answers. The dozen gunmen dragged their new prisoners across the floor, pummeling heads with their rifle butts. Al-Dulaimi dropped to her knees, clinging to the ankles of a kidnapper. She begged, kissing his shoes. Then she bargained: "At least leave me one. Take the other two. Leave me one."