A cautious peek around the corner

It is a fact that how the locals react to the presence of an American patrol varies from neighborhood to neighborhood. I've written in several previous posts about the warmth of the reception in some of the Sunni neighborhoods in our area where the friendliness and hospitality are truly genuine. However, we also have Shia neighborhoods that remain under the oppressive thumb of Sadrist militias. Driving through these neighborhoods is a singularly eerie experience. Occasionally a child will wave, but in most cases the faces that pass by the armored glass of the humvee are wary; blank and emotionless. We recently had the opportunity to do a foot patrol through one of these neighborhoods. There is an inevitably warmer reception in face-to-face encounters. The glaring silence from a group of men sitting outside a cafe is dispelled briefly when I place my hand on my heart, nod, and say, "Salaam a'alaykum". The gesture is mirrored by every man in the group. "A'laykum Salaam!" It isn't much, but in many cases it is the most anybody will dare to commit to in their interaction with Americans because the militia is watching. Notices are plastered everywhere warning the people against, not just helping us, but even being friendly. The message is clear: We know who you are, we know where you live, God is on our side, and we will not distinguish between man, woman or child. Do not embrace the infidel. The militia also has a bloody track record to support their threats, and they infect the local Iraqi security forces.

It is after dark, and the foot patrol moves from the well lit busy market streets to the back alleys that are cloaked in shadow. Night vision goggles come into play, and awareness of one's surroundings intensifies. We scan rooftops for snipers and RPG's. Every darkened window is a potential sniper nest. Every derelict car is a potential bomb. We're patrolling with the Iraqi Army, and the increased security in numbers is offset by internal questions about the competence, skill, and loyalty of the Iraqi soldiers watching our backs.

There is no ambush. There is no attack. Once again, at the end of the day, we all return to base safely. The intimidation under which the people in these neighborhoods live cannot be sustained. People are becoming fed up with it, and our presence is giving them someplace to turn. Behind the glassy-eyed stares that follow us on every patrol are courageous individuals determined to wrest their community from the oppression of the mafia-like militias. There is a distinct sense that terror is ebbing, and the terrorist are now the one's watching their backs.

As we return from another patrol on another day, we chance upon a disturbing scene. Iraqi soldiers are frantically loading a limp woman into a military vehicle for transport to a local hospital. Her blood-smeared car is smashed against a concrete pylon. She'd been shot in the face only moments earlier by somebody in another car. It is a grim reminder of the challenges yet remaining to the courage and perseverance of the Iraqi people.

كل سنة و انت طيب

I understand that one's 40th birthday is supposed to be some kind of milestone. Perhaps it is. I'm suffering from some sort of lingering head cold, so I'm certainly feeling older today. It occurs to me that this is the third year in a row I've passed my birthday rather anonymously among soldiers and far from my family.

Here's hoping that 41 will be different.

Won't you be my neighbor

UPDATE: This should curtail some of the racket around base for a little while.

We've been spending a lot of time lately away from base, and out at the JSS's (Joint Security Stations). These are smaller company-level combat outposts that are situated in the middle of Baghdad neighborhoods. Some are manned by both Iraqi and American soldiers, some are purely American enterprises. The plan is to eventually turn all of these outposts over to Iraqi control over the course of the next year. There is certainly a downside to staying at the JSS's. For my part, I miss Internet connectivity the most. We sleep on cots or in beds that aren't ours. The food is mediocre. They're more crowded and dirtier than our quarters on base. There are no showers. On the upside, being away from the flagpole means that uniform standards are lower. You can actually walk around in a t-shirt and flip-flops without incurring the wrath of some irritable Command Sergeant Major. There is also a stronger sense of camaraderie and shared sacrifice with the guys out there that is much more elusive on the big mega-bases. Also, as of late, it actually feels somewhat safer out in the neighborhoods. Our base has come under increased rocket and/or mortar attack lately, which has resulted in a couple of deaths and dozens wounded. The thud of mortar rounds has become an almost nightly nuisance. I use the word nuisance because, really, that is all it is. In spite of the recent casualties, the impact of these attacks is mostly psychological, and strategically insignificant. They do little more than harass.

As conditions improve in Baghdad, the danger of complacency becomes increasingly relevant. On some of our recent patrols in Sunni neighborhoods, we have received the warmest, friendliest receptions of our tour. It is too easy to push the dangers of war to the back of your mind when you're sitting on lawn chairs in a well tended garden with children playing on the swing while you're being served fresh homemade lemonade and chatting about electrical problems and the price of propane. A brief anecdote illustrates the reverse side of this coin. At one house, as we pounded on the large metal gates to gain entry to the property, an old woman in a neighboring house panicked, "Oh no! It is the National Guard!" - meaning the Iraqi Army. Another woman said, "No, no. It is the Americans!" The old woman replied with obvious relief, "The Americans? Oh! Well, show them in! Offer them something to eat!" The Iraqi security forces are improving, but they still have along way to go before they truly earn the trust of the people. This is particularly true of the Sunni neighborhoods which chafe under the presence of dominantly Shia Iraqi Army and Police. The Sunni are still suffering the consequences of their refusal to participate in the political process and security force recruiting drives back in '03 and '04; a decision that most Sunni leaders now view as a grievous mistake on their part.

IED

As I write this, I'm struggling to keep my eyes open. Hours ago we were supposed to have embarked on a mission deep into a militia controlled Shia slum. However, our security element has been delayed by a serious accident in another part of the city. It is almost midnight, and we wait to find out if we will have any mission at all. If the mission is a go, we will likely be driving under blackout conditions using night vision goggles. We will be maneuvering through narrow debris-strewn streets packed with crowds of Ramadan holiday revelers. There is no doubt that concealed in the masses will be hostile militia. With the help of average Iraqis increasingly willing to step forward with information, we've been depleting their numbers. Their hostility towards us will be piqued.

In numerous conversations, I've always been able to distinguish our team by saying that for as long as we've been in country, and as many missions that we've run, not once have we been on a patrol or in a convoy that has been struck by an IED. As of a couple of days ago, I can no longer make that claim.

Moments after we passed through a shady Iraqi Army checkpoint in the Eastern Mansour district of Baghdad, the shockwave pounded our vehicle as the earth erupted next to a humvee two vehicles in front of us. The view was immediately obscured by a brown and black maelstrom of dirt, asphalt and cement curbing. The adrenalin-fueled voices that fill my radio headset display remarkable competence and control. As the dust settles, it becomes clear that the targeted vehicle is still rolling. Push through! Push through! Get out of the kill zone! Are there any casualties?

We move as fast as the mortally wounded truck can roll, and manage to limp a safe distance away. We establish a security cordon, and assess the situation. The targeted humvee is gushing fluids and has two blown front tires. Its crew is a little shaken, but thankfully unhurt.

I would love to post more than this right now, and expound on the context in which this incident occured, but quite frankly I am just to flippin' exhausted...

UPDATE: Continuing an earlier post, today a patrol rolled back to base after having confiscated three truckloads of very realistic looking Chinese made toy guns from a local vendor.

In related news...

Another American Import?

Today, October 1, we saw something that we haven't seen in Baghdad since our arrival four months ago.

 

Clouds!