America stops to hear war cry

It was a long, grim day that, as darkness fell, saw the American people turn once again to their president for leadership. At exactly 8pm in Washington the nation fell silent to watch George Bush step before the TV cameras at the White House to deliver what barely a day earlier he had called the "moment of truth".

They watched, as families have not done for many years, gathered together around television sets in living rooms or at dinner tables. On the west coast, as the sun set, they listened on car radios in traffic jams on the Los Angeles freeways.

His words prepared a nation for battle. "The United States of America has the sovereign authority to use force in assuring its own national security," he told them. "That duty falls to me as commander in chief by the oath I have sworn, by the oath I will keep.''

The President was dressed as soberly as his mood, in a white shirt and blue tie, a small pin of the American flag pinned to his dark suit. He looked a little tired and a little greyer than the man who had taken that same oath barely two years ago.

But no one who heard him could have doubted his intentions as he spoke of a "military conflict commenced at a time of our choosing". His remarks were carried live and uninterrupted by the American networks, which discarded the inanities of sitcoms and "Survivor" for the ultimate in reality television.

Almost as he finished speaking, the Department of Homeland Security, the government body charged with protecting America after September 11, raised the threat level to orange, the second highest possible, after intelligence reports that al Qaeda terrorists are already planning retaliatory attacks.

In New York and other major cities, security tightened perceptibly. Extra patrols could be seen at the entrances to tunnels and bridges. Chemical and biological warfare teams watched stations and subway trains. Unseen, thousands of FBI agents began monitoring Iraqi and other Arab exiles who may not be what they seem. In Hollywood, the organisers of the 75th Academy Awards insisted that Sunday's Oscars would go ahead - to the indifference of almost everyone.

All day, the mood had turned increasingly to the prospect of war. The Pentagon reported intelligence "chatter" that units of the elite Republican Guard had been issued with chemical weapons for the defence of Baghdad. The 24-hour cable news channels wheeled out the armchair generals and broadcast the first reports of refugees fleeing Baghdad.

For the rest of the afternoon, America held its breath. There was coverage of Robin Cook's resignation speech from the House of Commons. TV talking heads wondered briefly about the future of Tony Blair, struggling to grasp the intricacies of House of Commons protocol.

By early evening there was little to do but wait. Some channels began to run a clock in the corner of their screens, counting down the minutes and hours to the president's address. Seconds before 8pm, the cameras cut to a room in the White House, empty but for a red carpet and a lectern. Moments later, Mr Bush appeared, alone, and seemingly without notes.

He came swiftly to the point. Saddam Hussein was a brutal dictator. The UN had not lived up to its responsibilities "so we will live up to ours".

And then the moment of truth. "Saddam Hussein and his sons must leave Iraq within 48 hours."

When he finished speaking it was a little after 8.15pm.

Saddam and the world now had only 47 hours and 45 minutes to prepare for war.