thedrifter
05-16-07, 06:12 AM
Cruising Fallujah, the marines stick to main street
by Paul Schemm
Tue May 15, 2:28 PM ET
The last time Corporal Dan Zimpfer was in Fallujah, he and his fellow US marines were in and out of every alleyway and side street in what was Iraq's most famous insurgent stronghold.
This time around, however, he and his colleagues in "Weapons" company, 2nd Battalion 6th Regiment, stick to the main road and leave the rest of the city to the Iraqi army and police.
"We went everywhere last year," said Zimpfer, whose company patrolled Fallujah's streets in mid-2005 and early in 2006.
In contrast to many other cities in Iraq, which are seeing an increased American presence as part of the so-called "surge" in US forces, Fallujah's back streets have been turned over to a revitalised Iraqi police and army.
"Just compared to last year, it's a complete 180-degree difference," noted Staff Sergeant Jesse Scheertz.
Now, he said, the Iraqi police and army are cooperating and go on operations together, compared to a much more adversarial relationship a year ago.
For the marines that means there is less to do, and already after a little over a month in Fallujah, "Fran" as the military has dubbed the road, is getting rather monotonous.
"We've been doing this since we got here," said Zimpfer as his heavily armoured Humvee trundled slowly through the empty night streets after curfew.
Sporadic electric lighting and the odd stray dog scampering into the shadows did little to relieve the tedium.
"It's hard to stay focused, especially at night," he said, adding quickly: "But I'm usually pretty jittery -- I got hit a few times here last time."
Ahead a pair of tanks sat squat in the darkness as bulldozers demolished a marine observation point -- part of the ongoing pullback. In the morning, all that remained of a once heavily fortified position was a field of rubble.
Such rubble is all too common along this road, which bustles with activity during the day. The scars of the climactic November 2004 US marine assault to retake the city are evident everywhere.
Some buildings have only a stitching of machine gun fire across their facades, but elsewhere huge concrete buildings sag alarmingly, held together by little more than a spaghetti tangle of iron rebar.
Trash lies everywhere and the city's chaotic, largely generator-fed electrical system has resulted in a profusion of wires crossing the side streets in complex tangles.
There are signs of rebirth, however, and next to every shuttered or vacant store seems to be one sporting a brand new sign advertising tires, auto glass, mechanical parts, and also the city's once famous kebabs.
A mobile telephone service is a recent arrival to Fallujah, and now half a dozen stores along the main street sell phones and cards. But the network stopped working a week ago when insurgents blew up a number of transmission towers.
"They blew up the towers so that people couldn't call in tips about what the terrorists were doing any more. Just a few days ago this thing worked," said an Iraqi policeman, angrily waving his now useless phone as he manned a checkpoint into the city alongside an Iraqi soldier.
The lower US profile comes at a price, however, amid worries that less of a presence might be giving the insurgents more free rein.
Already there are signs that the number of incidents is increasing elsewhere in the city as the Iraqi army and police learn to cope with their new responsibilities.
"Not too much happens on Fran. They know we're here. Who's going to do something on the main street?" asked Corporal Stephen Gnagi as he patrolled, occasionally pulling over motorists and searching their cars.
"We've been pushing to go back into the alleys, but they say no," he added, referring to the vague world of higher command that dictates the lives of marines. "We need to start going into the houses."
The squads continuously driving two abreast up and down the two-lane highway in their Humvees almost seem like bored teenagers cruising main street in small-town USA, but the marines insist it has its role.
"We're still maintaining our presence here, to make sure they are doing their jobs," said Staff Sergeant Thomas Fuller, pointing out that no matter what, the company is constantly in the city and ready to provide backup.
Reports crackle over the radio nearly every day of shots fired at the marine posts lining the main drag, and just over a month ago insurgents mounted a concerted assault on the town centre complex of buildings housing the Iraqi police and army.
That attack was beaten off by the combined efforts of the Iraqi police and army.
"We're not really doing that much," said Gunnery Sergeant James E. Curtis, a 17-year veteran of the marine corps who fought in the first Gulf War. "It's up to them, which is fine by us."
Ellie
by Paul Schemm
Tue May 15, 2:28 PM ET
The last time Corporal Dan Zimpfer was in Fallujah, he and his fellow US marines were in and out of every alleyway and side street in what was Iraq's most famous insurgent stronghold.
This time around, however, he and his colleagues in "Weapons" company, 2nd Battalion 6th Regiment, stick to the main road and leave the rest of the city to the Iraqi army and police.
"We went everywhere last year," said Zimpfer, whose company patrolled Fallujah's streets in mid-2005 and early in 2006.
In contrast to many other cities in Iraq, which are seeing an increased American presence as part of the so-called "surge" in US forces, Fallujah's back streets have been turned over to a revitalised Iraqi police and army.
"Just compared to last year, it's a complete 180-degree difference," noted Staff Sergeant Jesse Scheertz.
Now, he said, the Iraqi police and army are cooperating and go on operations together, compared to a much more adversarial relationship a year ago.
For the marines that means there is less to do, and already after a little over a month in Fallujah, "Fran" as the military has dubbed the road, is getting rather monotonous.
"We've been doing this since we got here," said Zimpfer as his heavily armoured Humvee trundled slowly through the empty night streets after curfew.
Sporadic electric lighting and the odd stray dog scampering into the shadows did little to relieve the tedium.
"It's hard to stay focused, especially at night," he said, adding quickly: "But I'm usually pretty jittery -- I got hit a few times here last time."
Ahead a pair of tanks sat squat in the darkness as bulldozers demolished a marine observation point -- part of the ongoing pullback. In the morning, all that remained of a once heavily fortified position was a field of rubble.
Such rubble is all too common along this road, which bustles with activity during the day. The scars of the climactic November 2004 US marine assault to retake the city are evident everywhere.
Some buildings have only a stitching of machine gun fire across their facades, but elsewhere huge concrete buildings sag alarmingly, held together by little more than a spaghetti tangle of iron rebar.
Trash lies everywhere and the city's chaotic, largely generator-fed electrical system has resulted in a profusion of wires crossing the side streets in complex tangles.
There are signs of rebirth, however, and next to every shuttered or vacant store seems to be one sporting a brand new sign advertising tires, auto glass, mechanical parts, and also the city's once famous kebabs.
A mobile telephone service is a recent arrival to Fallujah, and now half a dozen stores along the main street sell phones and cards. But the network stopped working a week ago when insurgents blew up a number of transmission towers.
"They blew up the towers so that people couldn't call in tips about what the terrorists were doing any more. Just a few days ago this thing worked," said an Iraqi policeman, angrily waving his now useless phone as he manned a checkpoint into the city alongside an Iraqi soldier.
The lower US profile comes at a price, however, amid worries that less of a presence might be giving the insurgents more free rein.
Already there are signs that the number of incidents is increasing elsewhere in the city as the Iraqi army and police learn to cope with their new responsibilities.
"Not too much happens on Fran. They know we're here. Who's going to do something on the main street?" asked Corporal Stephen Gnagi as he patrolled, occasionally pulling over motorists and searching their cars.
"We've been pushing to go back into the alleys, but they say no," he added, referring to the vague world of higher command that dictates the lives of marines. "We need to start going into the houses."
The squads continuously driving two abreast up and down the two-lane highway in their Humvees almost seem like bored teenagers cruising main street in small-town USA, but the marines insist it has its role.
"We're still maintaining our presence here, to make sure they are doing their jobs," said Staff Sergeant Thomas Fuller, pointing out that no matter what, the company is constantly in the city and ready to provide backup.
Reports crackle over the radio nearly every day of shots fired at the marine posts lining the main drag, and just over a month ago insurgents mounted a concerted assault on the town centre complex of buildings housing the Iraqi police and army.
That attack was beaten off by the combined efforts of the Iraqi police and army.
"We're not really doing that much," said Gunnery Sergeant James E. Curtis, a 17-year veteran of the marine corps who fought in the first Gulf War. "It's up to them, which is fine by us."
Ellie