“We want to see an end to the hostilities,” State Department spokesman Robert Wood said in Washington yesterday. The UN calls “on all sides to pursue serious efforts toward political discussion” to end the conflict, Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon said in New York.

The LTTE said yesterday it is ready for a cease-fire that leads to peace talks. Sri Lanka’s government rejected any truce talks and called for the group’s unconditional surrender.

Sri Lanka’s army says it has brought the Tamil Tigers to the brink of defeat since capturing their main bases in January and driving them into an 87-square kilometer (34-square mile) pocket of land in the northeast. As many as 250,000 civilians are caught in conflict zones, facing shortages of food and medicines, according to the UN and international aid groups. More...Discuss this story Published: Mon Feb 23 20:18:06 EST 2009

But the cease-fire offer fell well short of the unconditional surrender sought by the government, which swiftly rejected the LTTE’s appeal. It also seems unlikely to sway the hardening stance among Sri Lanka’s allies that the war has reached a decisive point that requires the losing party to lay down arms before any political deal emerges.

In recent weeks, international calls for a halt to hostilities in the north, where at least 70,000 civilians are still trapped by fighting, have given way to pressure on the LTTE to let non-combatants go. The Red Cross has evacuated thousands of wounded civilians and has warned of dire conditions for those trapped behind. The UN says the LTTE is forcibly recruiting children into its ranks. More...Discuss this story Published: Mon Feb 23 14:08:38 EST 2009

So, two weeks ago, the teacher and her daughter joined hundreds of other ethnic Tamils to make a dash for safety just before dawn, sprinting across open fields and braving rebel gunfire to reach government lines.

They joined more than 30,000 other civilians who have fled the war zone and are now living in camps, penned in by razor wire and watched over by soldiers of the Sinhalese-dominated government.

Speaking to journalists during an army-organized visit Monday, refugees told harrowing tales of months spent huddling in bunkers while government troops and the Tamil Tiger rebels pounded each other with artillery. Many moved repeatedly, forced deeper into rebel-held territory as government troops pushed northward.

People said the rebels have grown increasingly desperate over the government onslaught that has left them near defeat after a quarter century of civil war. Rebels are forcibly conscripting civilians and trying to keep tens of thousands of others inside their territory as human shields, refugees said.

While the civilians said they were happy to be safe from the fighting, many expressed frustration at the restrictions that the government has put on them. They are confined to the camps and visitors are turned away. Soldiers patrol the compound.

"We are not getting freedom," said Linga Thevan, a 54-year-old farmer living at the Manik Farm camp, about 6 miles (10 kilometers) north of the town of Vavuniya. "Emotionally, we are in a swamp."

Segaram, the 52-year-old teacher who fled with her daughter, said she is just happy their ordeal is over.

When the war heated up in 2007, she was driven from her house in the Mannar district, on the southern edge of rebel territory. She and her daughter, now 21, fled to a Christian shrine in Madhu. But they were forced to move again as the front lines rolled over the shrine.

Over the ensuing months, the war forced her to move repeatedly. She was displaced at least 10 times, she said.

"You can't stay. There were constant bomb blasts. We left everything behind," Segaram said.

Once the army cornered the rebels inside a sliver of land in the northeast, nowhere seemed safe.

On the night of Feb. 6, Segaram and her daughter hid in a field with some 1,000 people waiting for rebels to leave the area. Just before sunrise, they began running. Four or five rebels demanded they stop and fired in the air, she said. When the group ignored the warning, the fighters shot at their legs, she said.

She and her daughter ran for a half hour before reaching government lines. "We were joyous," she said.

Another Tamil at the camp, Ramalingam Rajivan, said his flight to safety was tinged with sadness. He escaped, but it was too late for his brother.

The two men were visiting their grandmother in rebel-held territory in 2006 when the Tamil Tigers decided to seal the area, trapping the brothers.

Soon after, the rebels sent a letter demanding the family send one member to become a fighter. They ignored the summons, but rebels came and dragged away his 21-year-old brother, Priyadarshan.

A few weeks later his brother died in battle, Rajivan said. "They didn't give us my brother's body. They just gave me a picture," he said.

Rajivan, 28, was repeatedly displaced by the fighting. A few weeks ago, he and 47 others trudged through rice paddies in the rain until they got to the front lines, yelled that they were civilians and raised their hands, he said.

Aid groups estimate 200,000 civilians are still trapped in the shrinking rebel territory. Health authorities say dozens are being killed by government shelling and rebel gunfire every day.

More than 30,000 people have crossed over, and most are being held in temporary transit camps, mainly in schools. At one such site, 142 people are packed into a long shed of corrugated tin, sleeping on thin mats. Benches along the wall hold what little they own: pots, small stacks of clothes, jerry cans for water, a radio.

The more permanent Manik Farm camp houses 2,800 people but is being expanded to house up to 200,000 for several years. The government says it needs that time to rebuild infrastructure and remove land mines so the refugees can go home.

The camp site, dug out of recently leveled red earth, is filled with neat rows of aluminum sheds with thatched roofs. They are subdivided inside into individual residences.

During the media tour, workers were assembling wooden frames for more sheds amid the screech of a saw slicing through corrugated metal sheets.

One building is being used as a kind of strip mall, with a post office, two banks and a welfare center. Nearby, mothers cradling babies lined up to see a doctor. At the school, students sat at desks scattered under trees, while others studied in dark, mud and thatch rooms.

Soldiers stood guard everywhere.

Many residents said they are treated well, but complained about not being able to leave.

"We are OK, the facilities are not so bad, but we can't see our relatives," said Perumal Rajendran, 31.

N. Satish, a 40-year-old from the northern city of Jaffna, said he had not seen his wife and seven children since the rebels sealed him inside their territory three years ago. Now he feels trapped again.

"I want to get out of here and see my family as soon as possible," he said.

P.S.M. Charles, the top government bureaucrat in the district, said the restrictions are to protect the civilians.

"It is not a detention. We are keeping them in the safest area," she said.

People older than 60 are being allowed out, and the government hopes to eventually ease the restrictions for everyone, she said.

People in the camps still live in fear of both sides. Some looked warily at soldiers when they talked with journalists. One woman spoke in a whisper as a crowd gathered, saying she was afraid rebels had infiltrated the camp.

A military spokesman, Brig. Udaya Nanayakkara, said there are several hundred people in the camps who are suspected of having been rebel fighters.

"We know that they are terrorists and they have been admitted, but we have left them alone to rehabilitate themselves," he said.Discuss this story Published: Mon Feb 23 21:20:20 EST 2009