thedrifter
02-24-07, 07:39 AM
U.S. unit shoulders burden at Iraqi police station
Soldiers hole up at base 'pretty much to keep the place from being overrun'
By Bill Murphy Jr.
WASHINGTON POST
BAQOUBA, Iraq - It took nearly a month to build the tiny bunker on the roof of this Iraqi police station. The U.S. soldiers worked at night to avoid snipers, carrying sandbags up four flights of stairs in the dark.
One day last week, several American soldiers arrived to begin their shift, using the roof to scan the surrounding area for attackers. The soldiers were well armed, and they had cigarettes, coffee and soda with them, even beef jerky. But there was one thing missing from the roof of the station, and from the ranks of those who were there to defend it: members of the Iraqi security forces.
Similar U.S. units are embedded at other Iraqi police and army installations in Baqouba, a city of 300,000 about 35 miles northeast of Baghdad. Keeping these locations open and functioning is vital, military commanders say, if the Iraqis who live here are to have confidence in the government.
The police station houses a unit of the local police Emergency Response Force. The Americans call it "the ERF," so it rhymes with "surf." In theory, the ERF should be like a U.S. police SWAT team, but in practice, the Iraqis are simply outmanned and outgunned. The U.S. troops here, from Alpha Company, a unit in the 1st Cavalry Division, say the Iraqi police officers are loath even to leave the station.
"Originally, it was designed like we were going to be training" them, said 1st Lt. Jason Brinkley, 23, of Palacios, Texas. But ever since insurgent attacks in late November, "we've just kind of been staying here, pretty much to keep the place from being overrun," he said.
In one room of the station that the Americans use, weapons, ammunition and rations were stacked alongside cases of soda and hundreds of bottles of water. A generator powered a microwave oven, and a freezer was stuffed with frozen hamburgers, hot dogs and breakfast sandwiches.
"It's like an infantryman's dream in here," said Sgt. Benny Alicea, 34, of Attleboro, Mass.
The ERF comes under fire almost every day, and most days, Brinkley said, his troops kill one to six insurgents. "The standoff we've got is to our advantage because we shoot better than they do," Brinkley said.
"You get used to it," said Spec. Monty Hesley, 27, of Hanover, Kan. "That's your job, is killing people and people trying to kill you. You can get into a zone. You have to, or you're going to drive yourself nuts."
Most of the troops at the ERF said they had no idea how their work might contribute to a larger effort, or even who the enemy is. And they said they do not trust the Iraqi police officers living one floor below them. At least one U.S. soldier stood guard with his rifle at all times, ensuring that none of the Iraqi police ventured into the American living area.
The core of this platoon is on its second tour together in Iraq. It fought at Najaf in August 2004 and alongside the Marines at Fallujah in November 2004.
"I just care about my friends -- this platoon, that everybody will come home," said Pfc. Stanislav Mykhaylichenko, 20, of New York, a Ukrainian immigrant whose father fought in the Soviet army in Afghanistan in the 1980s.
"The best bet is to pull back," said Sgt. Jerry White, 26, of Bell, Fla. "Sending more troops -- it's not working. You're sending more targets. That's all you're doing."
"They're going to have their civil war, and all we're doing is just being in the middle of it," Alicea said.
At 9:46 a.m. on the second day of the soldiers' three-day shift, small-arms fire erupted outside.
"Shooting from the south. They do that," said Spec. Patrick Pena, 24, of Midland, Texas.
Long bursts of automatic-weapons fire followed. Outside, bullets hit a damaged vehicle in front of the building. Not far away, a U.S. soldier refueling the ERF's generator took cover. It was unclear whether any of the Iraqi police officers were returning fire.
Two loud thumps echoed.
"Mortar rounds!" someone yelled.
"Yeah, mortars. Small arms," Brinkley agreed. "I think we're under attack."
The soldiers erupted in laughter.
"It's what they always do," Brinkley continued. "They just get out of a car, fire two rounds and get out of here. It's nothing accurate, just harassing fire."
Spec. Jeremy Anderson, 22, of Corpus Christi, Texas, stayed low on the roof, near the sandbag bunker, pointing out buildings from which insurgents often target the ERF and the small road that the soldiers call Sesame Street because they see the same odd characters there every day.
The shooting died down. Loudspeakers blared from nearby neighborhoods. None of the soldiers spoke Arabic, but they said they can sometimes make out words like "Ameriki," "Bush" and "jihad."
Morning turned to midday. There were two more loud explosions. Mortars again, the soldiers said.
Downstairs, Brinkley sipped a Mountain Dew and walked into a room where several soldiers were resting. He had spent two hours in a sniper's nest over a shower stall that the men use as a makeshift urinal, and he had finally found a target. A man with an AK-47 assault rifle was trying to get into position about 500 yards away.
Brinkley squeezed the trigger and killed him.
"I'm still happy," Brinkley said. "The right thing to do is get dudes to stop shooting at you, especially that accurate fire."
Ellie
Soldiers hole up at base 'pretty much to keep the place from being overrun'
By Bill Murphy Jr.
WASHINGTON POST
BAQOUBA, Iraq - It took nearly a month to build the tiny bunker on the roof of this Iraqi police station. The U.S. soldiers worked at night to avoid snipers, carrying sandbags up four flights of stairs in the dark.
One day last week, several American soldiers arrived to begin their shift, using the roof to scan the surrounding area for attackers. The soldiers were well armed, and they had cigarettes, coffee and soda with them, even beef jerky. But there was one thing missing from the roof of the station, and from the ranks of those who were there to defend it: members of the Iraqi security forces.
Similar U.S. units are embedded at other Iraqi police and army installations in Baqouba, a city of 300,000 about 35 miles northeast of Baghdad. Keeping these locations open and functioning is vital, military commanders say, if the Iraqis who live here are to have confidence in the government.
The police station houses a unit of the local police Emergency Response Force. The Americans call it "the ERF," so it rhymes with "surf." In theory, the ERF should be like a U.S. police SWAT team, but in practice, the Iraqis are simply outmanned and outgunned. The U.S. troops here, from Alpha Company, a unit in the 1st Cavalry Division, say the Iraqi police officers are loath even to leave the station.
"Originally, it was designed like we were going to be training" them, said 1st Lt. Jason Brinkley, 23, of Palacios, Texas. But ever since insurgent attacks in late November, "we've just kind of been staying here, pretty much to keep the place from being overrun," he said.
In one room of the station that the Americans use, weapons, ammunition and rations were stacked alongside cases of soda and hundreds of bottles of water. A generator powered a microwave oven, and a freezer was stuffed with frozen hamburgers, hot dogs and breakfast sandwiches.
"It's like an infantryman's dream in here," said Sgt. Benny Alicea, 34, of Attleboro, Mass.
The ERF comes under fire almost every day, and most days, Brinkley said, his troops kill one to six insurgents. "The standoff we've got is to our advantage because we shoot better than they do," Brinkley said.
"You get used to it," said Spec. Monty Hesley, 27, of Hanover, Kan. "That's your job, is killing people and people trying to kill you. You can get into a zone. You have to, or you're going to drive yourself nuts."
Most of the troops at the ERF said they had no idea how their work might contribute to a larger effort, or even who the enemy is. And they said they do not trust the Iraqi police officers living one floor below them. At least one U.S. soldier stood guard with his rifle at all times, ensuring that none of the Iraqi police ventured into the American living area.
The core of this platoon is on its second tour together in Iraq. It fought at Najaf in August 2004 and alongside the Marines at Fallujah in November 2004.
"I just care about my friends -- this platoon, that everybody will come home," said Pfc. Stanislav Mykhaylichenko, 20, of New York, a Ukrainian immigrant whose father fought in the Soviet army in Afghanistan in the 1980s.
"The best bet is to pull back," said Sgt. Jerry White, 26, of Bell, Fla. "Sending more troops -- it's not working. You're sending more targets. That's all you're doing."
"They're going to have their civil war, and all we're doing is just being in the middle of it," Alicea said.
At 9:46 a.m. on the second day of the soldiers' three-day shift, small-arms fire erupted outside.
"Shooting from the south. They do that," said Spec. Patrick Pena, 24, of Midland, Texas.
Long bursts of automatic-weapons fire followed. Outside, bullets hit a damaged vehicle in front of the building. Not far away, a U.S. soldier refueling the ERF's generator took cover. It was unclear whether any of the Iraqi police officers were returning fire.
Two loud thumps echoed.
"Mortar rounds!" someone yelled.
"Yeah, mortars. Small arms," Brinkley agreed. "I think we're under attack."
The soldiers erupted in laughter.
"It's what they always do," Brinkley continued. "They just get out of a car, fire two rounds and get out of here. It's nothing accurate, just harassing fire."
Spec. Jeremy Anderson, 22, of Corpus Christi, Texas, stayed low on the roof, near the sandbag bunker, pointing out buildings from which insurgents often target the ERF and the small road that the soldiers call Sesame Street because they see the same odd characters there every day.
The shooting died down. Loudspeakers blared from nearby neighborhoods. None of the soldiers spoke Arabic, but they said they can sometimes make out words like "Ameriki," "Bush" and "jihad."
Morning turned to midday. There were two more loud explosions. Mortars again, the soldiers said.
Downstairs, Brinkley sipped a Mountain Dew and walked into a room where several soldiers were resting. He had spent two hours in a sniper's nest over a shower stall that the men use as a makeshift urinal, and he had finally found a target. A man with an AK-47 assault rifle was trying to get into position about 500 yards away.
Brinkley squeezed the trigger and killed him.
"I'm still happy," Brinkley said. "The right thing to do is get dudes to stop shooting at you, especially that accurate fire."
Ellie