thedrifter
04-21-07, 10:36 AM
Article published Apr 21, 2007
In Iraq, progress made in heart of nowhere
By Gordon Dillow
GLDillow@aol.com
I wrote last summer about a place called Ar-Rutbah, a town of 25,000 souls in the far western desert of Al Anbar province in Iraq. It is a place so far-flung, so isolated, that I described it as being "the precise geographic center of the lonely heart of nowhere."
At the time I was an embedded reporter with Marines of the 3rd Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion's Alpha Co., commanded by Buena Park native Capt. Michael Nakonieczny. Alpha Co.'s job was to secure the perimeter of the town and set the ground work for the lengthy and often frustrating process of bringing peace and stability to the Iraqis living there.
It was not an easy task.
The town was infested with insurgent thugs who used murder, kidnapping and hijackings to raise money and intimidate the locals from cooperating with the central Iraqi government or with the Americans. Mortar and roadside bomb attacks against American forces were common.
There was no local government in the town, and not a single Iraqi cop or soldier; garbage and sewage fouled the streets. The primarily Sunni residents were sullen, hostile, angry and afraid.
In short, even by the low standards of happiness in Iraq, Ar-Rutbah was not a happy place.
Well, in the seven months since then, 3rd LAR completed its tour of duty and Marines from the Camp Pendleton-based 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU) were assigned to continue the task in Ar-Rutbah. The other day I got some e-mails from Sgt. Major Keith Stephens of the 15th MEU -- and with all the talk recently about the fourth anniversary of the start of the war, and the reported lack of progress in it, I thought I'd share them with you. (Words in parentheses are mine.)
"Tonight (on the Internet) I stumbled across your article (about Ar-Rutbah) from August 2006," the sergeant major wrote me. "I thought you might be interested in an update.
"When we first moved into the city, no one was coming out and stores wouldn't open; they thought that our snipers would shoot them. Disinformation and urban legends spread like wildfire, and we have to battle them, too. (But) after a few days people slowly started coming out; we personally escorted a few to their shops to quell their fears. ... After people got used to the fact that we were there and weren't leaving, things started getting back to normal. Shops were opened and people went about their lives.
"Now it's hard to walk the streets without a bunch of kids gathering around. We've had some soccer balls to pass out and a lot of Marines carry some candy in their pockets to pass out. (15th MEU Marines also built a soccer field for the kids.) That shouldn't be confused with 'winning their hearts and minds.' Giving a kid a soccer ball or a piece of candy isn't to win his heart and mind, but to give him a little hope and put a smile on his face.
"Many of our days are spent talking to people on the streets. We listen to their concerns and fix what we can. From my experience, saying you will do something and then doing it wins hearts and minds.
"There is a new hospital (built by U.S. forces several years ago) that was unused; the (Iraqi) doctors were afraid to use it because the coalition built it. They've moved into it and have been working there for a few weeks now. We've had great success in recruiting for the Iraqi police. Currently there are 40 attending the police academy in Mosul; 70 more will leave for training in a few weeks. ... The garbage is being picked up again.
"The majority of the people are glad we are here, but there are still some areas of town where we get some hard looks. People are telling us where weapons caches are hidden and pointing out the bad guys.
"It's good to see our efforts coming to fruition. Life is going on."
Now, you probably aren't going to see reports like this in the national news media. In general the news media don't report on airplanes that don't crash, only the ones that do -- and by that standard, a hospital opening or a soccer field being built or people starting to feel a little more secure in an obscure Iraqi town isn't news.
And Sgt. Maj. Stephens isn't trying to tell you -- nor am I -- that all is sweetness and light in Ar-Rutbah, or the rest of Iraq. Iraq remains a very difficult and very dangerous place. During their current deployment in Ar-Rutbah and throughout Al Anbar province, the 2,000 Marines and sailors of the 15th MEU have seen seven of their comrades killed and 57 wounded.
As is often said, freedom -- whether for us or for Iraqis -- isn't free.
Of course, progress is a fragile thing -- and without resources and patience and will, it can disappear in an instant. Still, it's interesting to hear firsthand about progress being made in Iraq, however incremental.
Even in a place that's far from the headlines, in the lonely heart of nowhere.
Ellie
In Iraq, progress made in heart of nowhere
By Gordon Dillow
GLDillow@aol.com
I wrote last summer about a place called Ar-Rutbah, a town of 25,000 souls in the far western desert of Al Anbar province in Iraq. It is a place so far-flung, so isolated, that I described it as being "the precise geographic center of the lonely heart of nowhere."
At the time I was an embedded reporter with Marines of the 3rd Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion's Alpha Co., commanded by Buena Park native Capt. Michael Nakonieczny. Alpha Co.'s job was to secure the perimeter of the town and set the ground work for the lengthy and often frustrating process of bringing peace and stability to the Iraqis living there.
It was not an easy task.
The town was infested with insurgent thugs who used murder, kidnapping and hijackings to raise money and intimidate the locals from cooperating with the central Iraqi government or with the Americans. Mortar and roadside bomb attacks against American forces were common.
There was no local government in the town, and not a single Iraqi cop or soldier; garbage and sewage fouled the streets. The primarily Sunni residents were sullen, hostile, angry and afraid.
In short, even by the low standards of happiness in Iraq, Ar-Rutbah was not a happy place.
Well, in the seven months since then, 3rd LAR completed its tour of duty and Marines from the Camp Pendleton-based 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU) were assigned to continue the task in Ar-Rutbah. The other day I got some e-mails from Sgt. Major Keith Stephens of the 15th MEU -- and with all the talk recently about the fourth anniversary of the start of the war, and the reported lack of progress in it, I thought I'd share them with you. (Words in parentheses are mine.)
"Tonight (on the Internet) I stumbled across your article (about Ar-Rutbah) from August 2006," the sergeant major wrote me. "I thought you might be interested in an update.
"When we first moved into the city, no one was coming out and stores wouldn't open; they thought that our snipers would shoot them. Disinformation and urban legends spread like wildfire, and we have to battle them, too. (But) after a few days people slowly started coming out; we personally escorted a few to their shops to quell their fears. ... After people got used to the fact that we were there and weren't leaving, things started getting back to normal. Shops were opened and people went about their lives.
"Now it's hard to walk the streets without a bunch of kids gathering around. We've had some soccer balls to pass out and a lot of Marines carry some candy in their pockets to pass out. (15th MEU Marines also built a soccer field for the kids.) That shouldn't be confused with 'winning their hearts and minds.' Giving a kid a soccer ball or a piece of candy isn't to win his heart and mind, but to give him a little hope and put a smile on his face.
"Many of our days are spent talking to people on the streets. We listen to their concerns and fix what we can. From my experience, saying you will do something and then doing it wins hearts and minds.
"There is a new hospital (built by U.S. forces several years ago) that was unused; the (Iraqi) doctors were afraid to use it because the coalition built it. They've moved into it and have been working there for a few weeks now. We've had great success in recruiting for the Iraqi police. Currently there are 40 attending the police academy in Mosul; 70 more will leave for training in a few weeks. ... The garbage is being picked up again.
"The majority of the people are glad we are here, but there are still some areas of town where we get some hard looks. People are telling us where weapons caches are hidden and pointing out the bad guys.
"It's good to see our efforts coming to fruition. Life is going on."
Now, you probably aren't going to see reports like this in the national news media. In general the news media don't report on airplanes that don't crash, only the ones that do -- and by that standard, a hospital opening or a soccer field being built or people starting to feel a little more secure in an obscure Iraqi town isn't news.
And Sgt. Maj. Stephens isn't trying to tell you -- nor am I -- that all is sweetness and light in Ar-Rutbah, or the rest of Iraq. Iraq remains a very difficult and very dangerous place. During their current deployment in Ar-Rutbah and throughout Al Anbar province, the 2,000 Marines and sailors of the 15th MEU have seen seven of their comrades killed and 57 wounded.
As is often said, freedom -- whether for us or for Iraqis -- isn't free.
Of course, progress is a fragile thing -- and without resources and patience and will, it can disappear in an instant. Still, it's interesting to hear firsthand about progress being made in Iraq, however incremental.
Even in a place that's far from the headlines, in the lonely heart of nowhere.
Ellie