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Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Armed with goodwill
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jorfa al-Melleb, Iraq � Sara Hussein looked at Capt. Alan Hicks with her left eye. The right is clouded by toffee-brown scar tissue the size of a marble.
Three years ago, Sara injured the cornea while playing ball with her brother. Now, because of the scar tissue that developed, when she looks through that right eye it is as if she is looking through a bowl of milk.
Bita Honarvar/AJC
Capt. Jason Belknap speaks in Arabic to Iraqi youths while on a civil affairs mission in Mallahama, Iraq. See more photos
Hicks, an Army reservist from Birmingham, had visited the 12-year-old girl before and promised medical treatment for the bad eye.
“I thought maybe you forgot,” said Saleema Majad, Sara’s mother.
“We would never forget you,” said Hicks, who works at the Alabama Organ Center at home. He told Majad to get her daughter’s medical records so that Sara could be taken about 20 miles south to Baghdad to see ophthalmologists.
Majad agreed. When Hicks turned to leave, she shouted: “Don’t forget us! I trust my God.”
The promise, said Hicks, is crucial. He is intent on making good on it.
In this central Iraqi farming village of dusty mud huts near the Tigris River, not all residents have complete trust in U.S. soldiers. The military knows it must earn the co-operation of the people if it is to snuff out insurgent activity in the area and advance sorely needed reconstruction projects.
In Vietnam, it was described as the battle for hearts and minds. Almost four decades later in Iraq, American soldiers are waging the same kind of war, and they hope this time it will pay off, and soon.
From Camp Taji, American soldiers from various units regularly travel narrow dirt roads that run alongside canals or the river to reach villages and small towns.
The Georgia Army National Guard’s 48th Brigade Combat Team has roughly 600 soldiers from the 1st Battalion, 118th Field Artillery Regiment, stationed at Taji who patrol neighborhoods and provide security for these potentially dangerous missions into the surrounding farmlands.
Alpha Battery, based in Springfield, near Savannah, helps guard the main gate at Taji, through which hundreds of Iraqi workers pass daily. Three Paladin 155 mm howitzers sit facing the main highway. Four to six soldiers work in 12-hour shifts, ready to fire in the event of an insurgent attack.
Alpha soldiers, trained to move and shoot the Army’s biggest guns, are naturally disappointed they are not able to utilize their specially honed skills more often. But they knew from the start that Iraq would be an unconventional war.
When the battalion trained at Fort Stewart and in California’s Mojave Desert, they practiced precisely for the kind of humanitarian work they are doing at Jorfa al-Melleb.
“The more we get to do things like this, the more the people will warm up to us. They will be more willing to cooperate,” said Spc. Charles Thompson, a native of Ellabelle, near Fort Stewart, who serves in Alpha Company, 490th Civil Affairs Battalion. Last week, Thompson went out on his first patrol with Hicks.
Sanctions, war, looting and now grinding guerrilla activity have left Iraq’s infrastructure in ruins. Basics such as clean water and electricity are daily worries for Iraq’s citizenry.
In 2003, after the overthrow of Saddam Hussein, it was estimated that it would cost $55 billion to repair or replace Iraq’s crumbling infrastructure. More than two years later, insecurity has thwarted many projects and the United States has diverted some of its pledged money to address insecurity.
Around Baghdad, the electricity is on for an average of just eight hours a day. Unless Iraqis have their own generators, they must suffer through sweltering summer temperatures. Surveys have found that only half the population has access to clean drinking water.
Poor quality of life can add to the frustration of Iraqis and lead to discontent with U.S. forces here.
“I really hope the Americans can help my village,” said Khalid, a resident of Al Muzorfa, a majority Sunni village where Hicks’ team is attempting to generate enough power to run four water pumps. He did not want to be fully identified because of possible reprisals against him or his family.
Khalid said he wanted the Americans to stay as long as they made life better for his family.
Capt. Jason Belknap of the 1st Armored Division’s 4th Battalion, 1st Field Artillery Regiment, said it has been difficult to lure contractors into dangerous areas to complete projects.
“This area has done a 180 turnaround lately,” Belknap said, crediting the U.S. security patrols and civil affairs missions. “But I still have contractors asking for huge amounts of money because of the risk.”
Reminders of that risk lurk everywhere.
Graffiti outside Camp Taji on the main highway refer to improvised explosive devices, one of the biggest killers of U.S. soldiers in Iraq. “IEDs-R-us,” it reads.
As Hicks’ convoy headed toward Jorfa al-Melleb, news crackled over the Humvee radio about another roadside bomb attack.
Hicks forged ahead with the task at hand. At every stop, Iraqi children swarmed the incoming Humvees. They surrounded the Georgia soldiers who stood guard, asking them for candy, toys or even the watches off their wrists and the pens in their pockets.
Thompson and his buddies handed out dolls and Beanie Babies. The wanting among children with dry, dirty faces and shoeless feet was incessant.
“The way I look at it, these kids are the ones who have to deal with my kids one day,” Thompson said.
Cpl. Armando Villegas, a homicide investigator for the Savannah-Chatham County Police Department, said the children weren’t always so receptive but that “giving out dolls and candy puts them more at ease.”
Villegas said he understood the hostility � some Iraqis view the troops as occupiers of their land. When children rush to him, though, he often thinks of his own three sons.
“My kids are lucky to be where they’re at,” Villegas said. “There’s a whole lot of work to be done here.”
In Jorfa al-Melleb, the only source of water for many families is a nearby canal where cows, goats, sheep and chickens drink from the same stagnant, algae-laden pool, the color of antifreeze. To get the water from the canal to the houses, families dig a hole and insert a plastic pipe for use as a siphon. When the water level in the canal drops, farmers like Abdullah Ahmad have no water in their homes.
Of the several villages that Hicks’ team visited on this day, Jorfa al-Melleb was the worst.
For Thompson, a student at Georgia Southern University, the poor living conditions of ordinary Iraqis has been eye-opening.
“People here look to us for help,” he said. “There are a lot of things we can do for them.”
As the four-Humvee convoy left the village of al-Muzorfa, a little boy ran in front of Hicks’ vehicle. The captain with the piercing blue eyes stepped out in full body armor to see what the problem was. The boy handed him three roses.
“I know we can’t help everybody,” Hicks said, reflecting later on the day’s work, especially on the plight of Sara Hussein.
But, he said, attitudes are changing.
Hicks used to leave Sara’s family with a handshake. Now, he said, “I get the close hug.”
Soldiers in different kind of fight
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Camp Taji, Iraq — “Are y’all ready, Camp Taji?â€? Staff Sgt. Vernon Williams yelled into a hand-held microphone. The crowd yelled back a resounding, “Yeah!â€?
Bita Honarvar/AJC
Dominique “Outlawz” Hernandez (left) of East Los Angeles, Calif., and Spc. Carmen “Scrappy” Montes of Oxnard, Calif., both with the 603rd Aviation Support Battalion from Hunter Army Airfield, fight during Fight Night at Camp Taji Sunday. MORE PHOTOS
Hundreds of soldiers gathered recently at the plaza outside the Taji PX for the most popular event in these parts of central Iraq: fight night.
Sometimes, as many as 3,000 of Taji’s 9,000 soldiers have swarmed the plaza to watch. Even the maintenance and food crews from faraway lands find themselves captive to a sport that is foreign to many of them.
“I think I like boxing now,� said Shankar Joga, of Vishakhapatnam, India, who came out with three of his friends, none of whom had seen a boxing match before Taji.
Even at 7 p.m. the temperature here was still above 100 degrees. But no one seemed to care. Soldiers from various units, including members of the Georgia Army National Guard’s 48th Brigade Combat Team, sat on wooden benches and on tops of parked Humvees to watch.
“I think even the enemy comes to watch,� said Sgt. David Michael Joseph, one of the organizers of Taji’s fight nights.
Bout No. 1: Women’s featherweight competition. In one corner, Carmen “Scrappyâ€? Montes — 126 pounds of lean, mean fightin’ machine and a reigning champion in her weight class. In the other corner, the challenger: Dominique Hernandez, a.k.a. “Outlawz.â€?
Staff Sgt. Tavares Spikes turned up the music. The crowd hooted and hollered. It was time to throw some punches.
Taji’s boxing events pair soldiers by gender and weight classes for eight fights. Each bout lasts three two-minute rounds.
Williams organized similar fight nights from 1994 to 1997 when he was stationed in Haiti. He and Joseph, both of the 603rd Aviation Support Brigade based at Hunter Army Airfield in Savannah, started the fights at Taji in May.
“I’m a combat soldier,� Williams said. “I understand the stress of a soldier. Boxing is a great way to relieve that stress.�
The fights rarely get beyond a bruise or a bloody nose. The boxing gloves are oversized and have extra padding. Williams said serious injuries are unacceptable because they would interfere with the soldiers’ combat duties.
Joseph, a professional boxer, trains soldiers every day in grueling 90-minute sessions.
“It’s not just for the boxing,� he said. “It’s a great way for soldiers to keep in shape.�
Being in shape is one thing. Boxing outside in Iraq’s summer heat is another.
“It becomes what I call a gladiator fight,� Williams said. “If you can win this, you can do anything.�
With the sound of the opening bell, Montes was off to a good start, pumelling Hernandez with a wicked left hook to the jaw.
Montes, of Oxnard, Calif., said her love of boxing started at a young age when she was forced to watch it on television with her dad.
“I wasn’t allowed to change the channel, so I had to watch,� she said.
Later she wanted to take up the sport, but her parents were dead set against their daughter getting pummeled in public.
“When I got over here, I started to train [with Joseph],� she said.
After a strong round one, Montes was ready to claim yet another victory.
Then came the bad news.
Williams climbed up into the ring. “Sorry, folks,� he said, explaining that the fight would have to be stopped due to a “weather warning.�
What, an unexpected snowstorm? The skies were still clear though the winds had kicked up a bit.
Williams later explained that if too much dust gets in the air, the soldiers can’t have the necessary combat air support. And a boxing match with that many people in the audience could make a prime target for insurgents. That’s why Williams and Joseph make it a point to pick different nights of the week for the fights. Predictability can be deadly in Iraq.
Sgt. Ronnie Perrryman, of the 1st Battalion, 118th Field Artillery Regiment’s Alpha Battery, had the day off when the most recent fights were scheduled. The land surveyor from Millen had planned to hibernate in his trailer after a grueling 37 days in Mahmudiyah south of Baghdad. But the love of boxing was strong enough to lure even the most war-weary of soldiers.
Would Montes get the K.O. this time?
At bell time, however, the ring stood empty again. No explanation on why the fights were cancelled this time. This is war, after all.
