Posted on 04/18/2004 9:48:50 PM PDT by teldon30
CAMP AL QAIM, Iraq _ Lt. Jason Johnston couldn't hold back his frustration.
"I don't think the American people understand that this is full-blown guerrilla warfare," he said as he stood inside one of the cramped barracks housing scores of Marines in this remote outpost.
"This is the real war. Last year was a cakewalk."
Johnston is one of the thousands of Marines who have returned to Iraq following only four months back in the United States after fighting their way from the deserts of Kuwait to Baghdad last year. They get most of their U.S. news via the Internet, and they don't always like what they see.
"Who gives a damn about gay marriage or Martha Stewart?" said Johnston, a rifle platoon leader and 13-year veteran from Scottsdale, Ariz. "This is what matters. This is what counts."
Any Marine here who fought during the early stages of the invasion of Iraq will tell you that the Marines' mission now is more complex, more difficult and much more dangerous _ even before the recent upsurge in violence in Fallujah, Ramadi and Baghdad.
"What you are really facing is what the Marines call `the 3-block war,'" said their commanding officer, Lt. Col. Matthew Lopez, a 40-year-old Chicago native. "On one block you can be doing humanitarian aid. In another block you could be providing security. In the third block you could be engaged in full combat.
"In this environment, the transition between those three blocks happens instantaneously."
It was a lot easier last March and April, when U.S. forces had the enemy on the run, plowing through Saddam Hussein's armies and moving through Basra, Nasarijah, Numaniah, Salmen Pak, Baghdad, Tikrit, Ramadi and Fallujah.
In the eight months that 3rd Battalion, 7th Marines served in Iraq last year, they suffered only a handful of combat injuries and no Marines were killed by enemy fire. In just a little over a month here, however, four in their unit have been killed and more than a dozen wounded seriously enough by enemy fire, roadside bombs or land mines to return to the United States, some with lost legs, arms or eyes.
The response of Iraqis has changed, too. Now, many are reluctant to be seen with the Americans, for fear of retribution from insurgents.
"This is the real war," said Lopez, who heads the more than 1,000 Marines whose job it is to bring peace and security to the region of al-Qaim. The Iraqi equivalent of an American county, it is about the size of the island of Bermuda, encompassing about 230,000 people and four major towns: Husaybah, Ubaydi, Karabilah and Sadah.
The Marines hope to accomplish their task by winning over the populace with good deeds and good manners that will convince the local population that they are here to help instead of to conquer.
But they face attacks that can come from anywhere, from anybody and at anytime.
"It's a lot more dangerous than it was before," said First Sgt. Stephen Francois, who was with Kilo Company during the early run to Baghdad. "The enemy is not clear cut. Now, they might smile at you on the street and be planting a bomb by the road at night."
First Sgt. Michael Templeton, 40, with six other Marines captured 67 Iraqis during the early portion of the war. Upon his return, he was hit by a roadside bomb on his first patrol just two days after arriving.
"Before, there was an enemy," he said. "You could see him and confront him. If he attacked you, you could respond and kill or capture him. Now, the enemy has no face. It's an Improvised Explosive Device (homemade bomb) or a land mine."
The unit has been bloodied significantly.
Gunnery Sgt. Darryl French of Birchtree, Mo., took shrapnel to the arm the on his first patrol and was awarded a Purple Heart.
Staff Sgt. John Kelley, of Stuebenville, Ohio, was in the lead Humvee when the vehicle directly behind him was hit by a roadside bomb, killing two Marines under his command and wounding three others. Days later, he was involved in the shootout with the Syrian Army at the border between Iraq and Syria when one Marine was wounded. More of his Marines were seriously injured days later when his platoon was hit with another homemade bomb. And on Wednesday, his vehicle was again hit by a bomb.
Lt. Tom O'Neill barely escaped a 16-inch piece of metal shrapnel that "would have cut me in two" when a bomb went off next to his vehicle as he was leaving a city following a town hall meeting recently.
On Thursday, one Marine from the unit and another stationed at the base were killed and nine others injured in a series of bomb attacks.
Friday, one Marine was killed in an ambush.
The unit is finding between three to eight roadside bombs daily. In one day, Lopez, their commanding officer, found three in a local town and was able to clear the area before insurgents detonated the explosives.
The elusiveness of the enemy and the nature of the combat have pushed many Marines to compare and contrast this war to one of the darkest periods in recent U.S. foreign policy and military history _ the Vietnam War.
"It's the same thing they got hit with in Vietnam," said Staff Sgt. Carl Scott, who served in Desert Storm in 1991, and both phases of the current war. "You can't see who is shooting at you a lot of the time. You can't see who is blowing you up. They throw a rock and hide their hands."
Capt. Trent Gibson, the Kilo Company commander, read a book on the Vietnam War during his flight from America to Kuwait. He flashed to thoughts of that conflict on his first day in the region.
"I was driving down Market Street in Husaybah and I had the windows of the Humvee rolled down. I'm waving at people, and only maybe 30 percent would give me, like, a tentative wave, the kind where if somebody saw them, they could pretend they were doing something else," said Gibson, 35, whose uncles served in Vietnam.
"I couldn't help but think of the stories I read about Vietnam and it seemed to me that it was like then, the Viet Cong owned the village, and nobody wanted to be associated with the Americans."
___
Their mantra is: "Marines: no better friend, no worse enemy."
They hope to achieve their mission primarily through civil affairs projects and good public relations. They want to help rebuild schools, sewer systems and other infrastructure, train and equip an Iraqi police force that will be the first line of defense against crime and violence and build an Iraqi militia, called the Iraqi Civil Defense Corps, that will back up the police.
But to do so, they must establish security in the region, a former Saddam Hussein stronghold where U.S. failure would be good news for a number of factions:
Low-level street thugs, who have no use for law and order.
Local crime lords, who have profited for years on smuggling and have held the local population in check through bribery, murder and intimidation _ with the understanding of Saddam.
Corrupt politicians and tribal chiefs, many appointed by Saddam, who don't want to see their power diminished.
Ideology-driven insurgents, "the Jihadists," the Marines call them, who take advantage of all the other factions to try to drive the "infidel" Americans out of their country.
Remarkably, Maj. Gen. James N. Mattis, head of the 1st Marine division, and the rest of the Marine command have been able to effectively imprint the corps' battle plan on the minds of most Marines.
Before, Marines could shoot any enemy target and not necessarily worry about the collateral damage.
"Now, collateral damage is unacceptable if we're trying to win the hearts and minds of the Iraqi people," said Maj. Anthony Henderson, the executive officer for the battalion.
That mandate has made a tough job even more difficult.
"You have to be really thinking all the time," said Jeremiah Jones, a lance corporal from Sonora, Calif., just three years out of high school. "It's like General Mattis says. We're not going to do one thing in a day to win this war, but we can do one thing in a day to lose it."
Johnston, the platoon leader from Arizona, gave an example of the complexity of the Marines' decision-making process now. Early on while patrolling one city, Johnston spotted a teenaged boy on a three-wheel vehicle that motored past him. In open view in the back of the vehicle, Johnston said, were two large artillery shells and detonation cord in the back of vehicle, the makings of a roadside bomb.
Johnston turned his weapon to fire, but then paused.
"I'm thinking, `If I shoot this kid in the back, it could be a nightmare for us,'" he said. "And what if this kid is just carrying this stuff to somebody else because he needs the money? So, I lowered my weapon and chased him down on foot, and fortunately I caught him." He arrested the boy and turned him over to authorities.
___
The Marines are making slower progress than they did a year ago, but even then some of their accomplishments appeared short-lived.
Last year, they took over Karbala, a city in southern Iraq dominated by Shiite Muslims. The battalion provided security and reconstruction, and made tremendous strides with a more accepting population. Iraqis and Marines alike wept when they pulled out.
But one month after the Marines turned over their mission there to the Bulgarian Army and returned to the United States, a suicide bomber rolled a car into Lt. Col. Lopez's former office and killed five Bulgarians and two Iraqis.
Doubt has begun to creep into the minds of even the most committed Marines as to the ultimate success of their mission.
Staff Sgt. Carl Scott of Pine Bluff, Ark., a veteran of Desert Storm in 1991 and the early push into Baghdad, has heard a number of Marines voice reservations.
"Most of these Marines, you can give them an M-16 and one bullet, and they'll go out there and battle to the death," said Staff Sgt. Carl Scott, 39, of Pine Bluff, Ark. "But some are beginning to question why we're here. It's not that they don't want to be here. It's just that in times like this, it's hard for them to find a purpose."
One officer put it more bluntly.
"I love my country, I love the Marines and I love George Bush, but Iraq is going to collapse the moment we pull out," he said. "It doesn't matter what we do. It's time to go home."
Lopez doesn't dismiss such talk among his men, but he says such conversation is to be expected.
"Anytime you are engaged in combat, it's natural for them to question the outcome of that conflict," he said, while pushing a meal of spaghetti and meatballs around on a cardboard tray in the area mess hall. "It's been that way throughout history. But it is through the Marines' actions that they show how committed they are to a successful end."
Part of the Marines' frustration is their inability in this new war to hit back, to strike back immediately at the men who are killing and maiming their brothers.
"It's really frustrating for the younger guys," said Gunnery Sgt. Elia Fonteccio, 29. "I talk to them and try to help them through it."
___
Sometimes, they do get a chance to go on the offensive, like recently during a freezing early morning raid across the western portion of An Anbar Province when they rounded up dozens of suspected terrorists.
In an effort coordinated with the entire 7,000-plus member regiment across the province, Marines swept into the town of Karabilah, where intelligence told them suspected terrorists had been hiding.
At 5:34 a.m. in a courtyard area just outside the front door of one home, Army Special Forces, Marine military police and an interpreter questioned a suspected terrorist ringleader as he kneeled on the concrete, his hands tied behind his back.
Inside the house, his wife and five children cowered in fear. Marines handed the children candy and stuffed animals to try to calm them down.
On the floor, stacked behind the suspect, were a cordless phone _ phones are sometimes used to set off roadside bombs _ large rolls of electrical cable and a small amount of Iraqi money.
"Do you know Samir?" asked the interpreter, referring to another suspected terrorist.
"Yes," the man responded.
"When was the last time you saw him?"
"A long time ago," the man said.
"Isn't it true you saw Samir just last week?" the soldier.
The man sputtered and finally admitted that he had seen Samir.
The soldier bore on.
"Does Samir work with you at the gas station?"
The man continued to give conflicting statements. A bag was placed over his head and he was hauled away for further questioning.
It was a good night. Most of the suspects were exactly where the Marines expected they would be, a rare occurrence. Nearly 50 were taken into custody. Those who had been detained provided the names of more suspects, who were arrested later.
The next day, Marines return to the same area in Karabilah and release 19 of those they had arrested the previous morning. The men, young and old, slowly pile out the back of a covered, 7-ton military truck and head back to their homes. This is the public relations part of the Marines' fight.
"Our intent is to go back into the area where we were yesterday and try to overcome some of the indifference of the people," Henderson says. "It's also to show respect and provide goodwill funds to families if we insulted anyone or if anyone is in need. We want to show we do respect their culture and their way of life."
Before he is released, one man claims that somewhere during his arrest, he lost the Iraqi equivalent of $150.
After a little discussion, Lt. Johnston hands him $8.
"Thank you," the man says in English and scurries off.
Johnston watches him head down a dusty trail with the other Iraqi men.
"We don't really believe he lost $150, but giving him the money shows that we care," he says.
___
The convoy mounts up and visits a local television station, where Lt. Dan Casey of Chicago leads a discussion with workers at the station on efforts to put up security lights around the building. The television workers say they want to do the work themselves instead of using a contractor.
"The contractor is only concerned about getting paid," one says. "They don't care about the quality of the work."
Casey tells them he will need a written proposal in order to approve having them do the work and giving them the money. Casey also gives the Iraqis a DVD of Lt. Col. Lopez addressing an area city council to address their concerns. He asks the workers to broadcast it for three nights in a prime 7:45 p.m. slot. They agree.
It is an uneasy meeting for the Iraqis. They apparently are eager to work with the Americans, but they are careful to maintain a distance.
"Basically, we're not working with the coalition forces," explains Saleh, a 34-year-old station employee. "We're working for our country ... with the help of the Americans."
He admits that he feels danger when the Americans come to the station.
"We have heard of many incidents of people hurt because they are working with the coalition forces. "The situation is very dangerous. You cannot protect yourself."
Before the Marines leave, an elderly man who works at the station complains that the Army took his computer when they were in charge of the area, and he'd like to get it back. Henderson asks how much the man thinks the computer is worth.
They settle on a price, $350. In a hallway outside the room, away from the other Iraqis, Cpl. Garrett Kimble peels off $50 bills from a large wad of money he has stuffed in his pocket.
Kimble is one of the battalion's' dispersers. It's his job to hand out hundreds of thousands of dollars to Iraqis and Marines. The money goes for reconstruction work, like fixing schools, paving roads and repairing water systems. It's also paid to Iraqis for damage or distress the Marines may have caused.
Kimble is 20-years-old, from Big Timber, Mont. He's been a Marine for two and a half years. He's carrying $5,000 today. So far, he says, he has handed out about $250,000, but none for damage and suffering.
"Fortunately, we didn't have to destroy anyone's property and we didn't harm anyone," he explained.
___
The Marines leave the radio station and head back to Karabilah, where they patrol the streets for the next few hours, trying to make friends, gather information on criminals and terrorists and convince local residents that they are liberators, not conquerors or occupiers. As the Marines walk the dusty, unpaved side streets, a loudspeaker on top of a Humvee blares out a message that Marines are here to make compensation for any damage they may have caused.
They hand out fliers to children and adults, explaining that they are here to help. The fliers include a number for people to call with information on terrorists. Using spray-on glue, the Marines post other fliers on metal light poles with a message from Mattis, explaining that the detainees have been treated humanely.
They get a lukewarm reception.
The youngsters, adolescents and children, flock to them for fliers and candy. The adults mostly stay away. The Marines approach anybody they see and ask them for information. They say they have none.
Eventually, some adults make their way to the streets to talk to the Marines. A middle-aged man comes to the front of the orange gates that are the entrance to his home. He has black hair, brown eyes and a drawn face covered by day-old gray and black stubble. He is dressed in moss green sweat pants and a white pullover top. On his feet are dusty, brown plastic sandals.
He is complaining.
"I am scared when I see the coalition forces, because that's when people are taken," he tells the interpreter. "I'm terrified. I'm terrified of the terrorists. I don't have weapon to protect myself if the terrorists attack my house."
An Army Special Forces soldier working with the Marines tells the man that the best way to protect his family is to call the coalition forces.
"If I do that," the man says, "after two days, you'll find my head in a bag and my body in the desert. It happens many times. But if I knew anything, I would tell you."
So far, about 40 local residents reportedly have been murdered for allegedly working with the Marines or the Army that was here before.
(Near Fallujah, Marines said that for a while they couldn't keep Iraqi barbers because they were being killed when they returned to town after working at the Marine base.)
"Their fear is legitimate," Henderson says.
The man says he has 10 children and complains that he has no money. Henderson offers him $20, "just to help out," but the man refuses to accept it.
"I can't," he says. "The terrorists will attack me."
An elderly man, who appears to be in his late 60s, comes from behind the walls guarding his home to approach the Marines. The Marines finally recognize him as one of the detainees they had released earlier in the day. The man complains that seven of his family members were snatched up in the previous morning's raid, and three are still in custody.
The Marines ask if anything was broken. Does he want compensation?
"I appreciate it," he says, "but I don't want anything."
Next door, a woman is sitting at the gated entrance of her home, as two small children, each less than two years old, wander around her. Her head and upper torso are draped in a black, beaded shawl. Under it is a brown shawl that is layered over a green print dress.
She is a widow, she says; Saddam had her husband killed. She is upset because during the raid, the Marines took her brother, who she says is innocent.
"I swear as God is my witness that if I knew anything, I would tell you," she says.
Henderson turns to the interpreter. "Ask her if she will accept a gift until her brother returns," he says, and the interpreter complies.
"I can't," she responds, as does everyone else on this day.
Their refusal reflects the intimidation and corruption that has stymied the Marines' ambitious efforts. Numerous are the stories of Iraqi policemen who have been kidnapped and killed by those opposed to the Marines' presence.
"Civilians are being found dead and gagged, bound and shot execution-style, beaten, cut and tortured," said Fareed, a defense corps lieutenant working with the Marines to bring stability to the town of Ubaydi.
One of the most disheartening failures for the Marines recently was an effort to help a local school.
When they approached the principal to see how they could help, she told them that she would like to have the schoolyard paved, and a wall built. The wall was to have been built when the Army was here, but local leaders pocketed the money the Army had given them and never built the wall.
Marines started in on the project, lining up contractors and planning the work. But on their fourth trip to the school, they were barred from the property. A staffer explained that the principal was no longer there; she and other staffers had been threatened with death if they continued to cooperate with the Marines.
___
From time to time, Marines here gather to discuss their thoughts on life, their circumstances and their mission. Recently, some wandered in and out of a balcony on the second level of the command center that has been unofficially designated a smoking area.
"So, what do you think?" a veteran Marine asked the group.
"Think about what?" one responded. "Think about our mission, what we're doing here?"
Marines were firmly committed to doing what was required of them, but there were varying opinions about its effectiveness. Some wondered if the American public would give them enough time to complete their mission, particularly with the growing body count.
Others said no matter what, they believed that Iraq ultimately would devolve into civil war.
"Hey, democracy doesn't come easy," one said. "Look at the United States. We had a civil war and a whole lot of other stuff. It's just not so simple."
Ultimately, the conversation drifted to the Vietnam War, a subject on the lips of many Marines these days.
"If you look at it, the Marines who died in Vietnam died for nothing," said one veteran, whose father served two tours in Vietnam.
It was a shocking statement, one that only a veteran Marine would dare make in the presence of other Marines.
"Look, they were there supposedly so that Vietnam wouldn't become Communist and become a threat to the United States and the world," he said. "Well, Vietnam is Communist. Is it a threat?"
The other Marines mumbled, but there was mostly silence.
Then the discussion turned back to Iraq. Saddam is gone, his sons killed and his regime destroyed. There are no weapons of mass destruction. Why are we still here? Why not leave now?
"We owe these people," said one Marine. "We owe them to finish the job that we have started."
Plus, he said, with the intense criminal element intimidating the people, the corrupt politicians, the sense of lawlessness, the weak police force and the Jihadists operating in the region, the area could easily become a haven for terrorists.
The other Marines nodded in agreement.
Ultimately, the conversation drifted to the upcoming missions. Kilo Company was going out that night to search a house in Karabilah believed to be a center for making roadside bombs. India Company was assigned to do security patrols the next day and wouldn't be back for another 36 hours. Another Marine was headed up to Lima Company, near the town of Husaybah, considered the region's most dangerous location.
After a few more minutes of small talk, the men drifted off the balcony and back to their assigned sleeping areas where they would prepare for another day of "the real war."
The emperor said "war's over, cooperate with the occupation," and that was that. The Japanese were raised to obey authority if nothing else.
There is no comparable authority in Iraq, and no tradition of obeying authority.
What do you suppose that would accomplish. These people are whipped dogs. If we just whip them harder than the bad guys, do you really think we'd be accomplishing anything useful?
No kidding. I'm just a housewife and even I understand that this Mr. Nice Guy cr@p doesn't do anything but project an image of weakness, which then encourages the enemy to attack and the locals to defer to them rather than us.
It seemed obvious enough from the article that some Iraqis were taking advantage of Officer Moneybag's eagerness to pass out the cash, making us not only appear weak, but stupid too. I don't know who came up with the idiotic "winning hearts and minds" idea, but at best it results in an increased disrespect for us and at worst an increased body count for both sides. Leave politics to the politicians, but let soldiers be soldiers.
As for some of the other comments our soldiers allegedly made, wondering why we were there, continually comparing Iraq to Vietnam, blah, blah, puke... I have a hard time believing they really said these things. Either, they're under the command of an officer unfit for duty, who's filled their heads with nonsense, or this reporter (ahem) "misquoted" them.
After reading so many other stories, emails from soldiers on the front lines, etc. on FR about how our guys are kicking butt, taking names, and most definitely not playing paddy-cake with the enemy, I have a very hard time believing this article is even true.
No offense, because I deeply respect the job of being a housewife, but do you really think you have the proper perspective and expertise in the area to make an accurate assessment of what's needed? I'm not a doctor, but I can tell you that some types of medical practices make absolutely NO sense to me. Yet, they seem to work in the end. I think we should trust the guys we have in the field. We are taking casualties, but whose to say a different approach might not be even worse.
What part of the article did you find hard to believe? We kicked a lot of butt in VN. So what? Our boys, my son included, face an enemy in Iraq that melts into the crowd, smiles to soldiers one day and plants bombs the next. Is that hard to believe? Have you read Phase Line Green - The Battle For Hue, 1968? It is the memoir of a Marine Leutenant (Nicholas Warr) who survived the battle for Hue inside the Citadel. He describes the nightmare of leading a platoon on a mission that all his men knew to be insane, suicidal, because of ridiculous rules of engagement that forbid the use of heavy weapons against a well-entrenched enemy for fear that it might damage some shrines. It got a lot of young Marines needlessly killed. Warr describes the fear that the Viet Cong instilled in the neutral populace: Colaborate with Americans, you are dead!
Perhaps the Iraqi insurgents have been studying history. Just because Fat Bastard Ted Kennedy asserted this is Viet Nam deja vu doesn't mean it isn't so in many important respects. We better understand the parallels. God bless the individual grunts who are still alive who say we are kicking butt. I find it easy to believe, on the other hand, that there are many who are questioning the sanity of the mission, as presently framed, like the soon to be killed Marines groused to Lt. Warr before their suicide mission in Hue, 1968.
God bless the Marines. Now as Dr. Laura says, do the right thing.
Your assumption is that "something" would work "better". I'm not convinced. The area these men are patrolling was a land of outlaws and theives long before we invaded Iraq. Smuggling is the major economic activity along the Syrian border. It is run by mafia's that make anything in this country look like sewing circles. The Iraqi people in this region are broken. It will take generations to fix them. Our best bet is to let our men on the ground make the decisions. Believe it or not, they are being allowed to do just that.
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