Sidi bou Zid was the little white village I saw destroyed by shellfire back in February.  It was weeks later before I could get close enough to see the details, because the village remained German territory for some time.  It was one of the little towns I had known so well, but when I went back it was a pitiful sight.  The village almost didn’t exist.  Its dozens of low stone adobe buildings, stuccoed a snowy white, were nothing but rock piles.  The village had died.  The reason for the destruction was that the German and American tank columns, advancing toward each other, met there.  Artillery from both sides poured its long-distance fury into the town for hours.  There will have to be a new Sidi bou Zid.