WACO, Tex., June 12 — Their ranks are small these days, outnumbered by the 80 crape myrtles planted at the Mount Carmel compound to commemorate each of the Branch Davidians who died here eight years ago.
Their arguments are fierce, for no fewer than three factions of Branch Davidians have laid legal claim to the 77-acre property outside the city, producing yet another bizarre standoff, with separate churches for two factions and a histrionic display by the third, which dismisses the entire 51-day siege by federal agents at the compound as a diversion.
"The standoff was a cover-up of over 30 years religious persecution of the original church including land ripoffs, judicial oppression and murder by poison," a sign just inside the entrance reads. It is the first of several displays to greet curious tourists who still thread the roads east of Waco to visit the site.
Yet the Branch Davidians all agree on one point: Timothy J. McVeigh, who cited his rage over what happened here as the prime reason he blew up the Federal Building in Oklahoma City two years to the day later, will be no martyr for their cause.
"I don't mourn him, and we would never support what happened in Oklahoma City," said Sheila Martin, 54 years old, in reaction to Mr. McVeigh's execution on Monday. "I wish Timothy McVeigh had come and talked to us. If he really had all that anger, I would have told him to redirect it in a different way. I would have asked him to come and help rebuild our church."
Mrs. Martin's husband and four of her seven children died in the fire that consumed the Branch Davidians' compound on April 19, 1993, shortly after federal agents in tanks rammed the building in an effort to drive the people out.
Clive Doyle, 60, a former government currency printer in Australia who escaped the flames but lost his daughter, Shari, 18, in the fire, also said he saw no honor in Mr. McVeigh's action.
"Retaliation is not what we're about," Mr. Doyle said. "And Tim McVeigh is not any sort of champion from our point of view."
The ruins of the compound's foundation peek out in the tall grass, where children of some Davidians play among the artifacts left behind, including two burned-out buses and a motorcycle that belonged to David Koresh, the group's leader.
A rival faction to the one Mr. Doyle and Mrs. Martin follow has erected a headstone at the compound, memorializing "all the men, women and children who were victimized and brutally slaughtered" in the April 19, 1995, Oklahoma City bombing.
Several antigovernment extremist groups carried accounts of Mr. McVeigh's execution on their Web sites, though with little characterization of the man; one, posted by Posse Comitatus, a paramilitary group, issued a call for Monday to be commemorated as Timothy James McVeigh Day.
"The day that this soldier is called home will henceforth be remembered," the site said, "and his efforts will not be forgotten." It added: "The blood of our fallen martyrs shall be avenged!"
But for the Branch Davidians, any prospect of violence, whether in response to what happened here or to Mr. McVeigh's execution, would be abhorrent.
The siege at Mount Carmel began on Feb. 28, 1993, after several dozen federal agents tried to arrest Mr. Koresh on weapons charges, and a gun battle left four agents and six Branch Davidians dead.
Government officials said the Branch Davidians deliberately set fire to the compound and that many inside died of gunshot wounds they inflicted on each other or themselves as the flames spread; the Branch Davidians say tear gas from the tanks ignited the fire. The damage was so severe that neither side has been able to prove what happened.
Last fall, a federal judge in Waco ruled that the government owes nothing to the surviving Branch Davidians or to the families of sect members who died in the fire. About 100 plaintiffs had filed a wrongful- death suit.
In a separate trial, held in state court, the three factions have battled over ownership of the compound, but the matter remains unresolved.
No one disputes that the Branch Davidians still own the property, but no one agrees just who the rightful Branch Davidians are. The sect's roots date back to the 1930's, when disgruntled members of the Seventh- day Adventist Church broke to form their own church.
This year on April 19, the eighth anniversary of the fire, the Branch Davidians held their annual memorial and the bell at the new chapel pealed for those who died in the fire. Mr. Doyle, who has burn marks on his arms from the inferno, read the names, breaking into tears when he recited his daughter's.
Most remaining members expressed a bedrock faith that Mr. Koresh and the others would return to earth someday.
"He's going to come back," Catherine Matteson, who is 85, said of Mr. Koresh. "He'll be back with the Seven Seals, and the Seven Seals will tell you everything."
After losing four children in the fire and the fifth afterward to meningitis, Mrs. Martin has two left, Danny, 14 and Kimmy, 12. They come to services at the compound on Saturday, the Davidians' sabbath, but their beliefs aren't particularly fervent, she said.
"They're typical teenagers," she said. "They'll say, `Is it 4 o'clock yet, Ma? O.K., Ma, it's time to go home and get something to eat.' "
"I'm still waiting for them to come back," she added, referring to her husband, Wayne, and to their children who died in the fire. "I'm still waiting. It feels a little closer. But it's hard.
"Some days I thank God that there's a floor to wash, dishes to do, a lawn to mow, anything to keep busy," she said. "Because the waiting is hard."