|
"Where are you going to be?" the Iraqi Police Lieutenant asked the Army Corporal.
"Here, we're staying here."
The Lieutenant looked at the Corporal, the Corporal looked back at the Lieutenant.
This would be the first time Iraqi police officers from the Civil Camp police station walked the beat at night without Soldiers and Marines at their side.
Police Training Team 6, based in Camp Habbaniyah, Iraq on the west bank of the Euphrates is assigned the task of swimming up-stream against a culture that has a limited concept of western criminal justice.
The police stations in Habbaniyah, Civil, Coolie and Khalidiyah have started growing as the Anbar Awakening is moving downstream.
For a time, the IP would barely leave the station, but the PTT worked them into joint patrols at daylight, then solo patrols in daylight and establishing a check point at the bridge over the canal, and joint night patrols.
It should also be noted that one of the police stations has been destroyed by SVBIEDs a few times.
Like everything in Iraq, it takes time, but the time may be coming where the IP in Habbaniyah are willing to take the reins.
NIGHT PATROL
The IP knew they were going out at night and were standing around in helmets, SAPI plate holder vest and armed with AKs. Most of the index fingers were not on the trigger--a major accomplishment.
The Army Corporal was expecting a struggle. He expected the Police Lieutenant to balk. And when the question came and the Corporal responded the look on the Lieutenant's face did not need to be translated.
The Corporal stared him straight in the eyes and told him they were going out alone.
After a moment of hesitation and indecision the Lieutenant said it was no problem.
And as the sun fell to twilight, the IP stepped off for their first patrol.
As with most patrols in Civil Camp, it was uneventful--the most dangerous things being out that night were the mosquitos.
KHALIDIYAH
Five miles north of Habbaniyah, the farming community of Khalidiyah is in the area of the ancient city of Anbar, which used to be one of the western most strong points of the Persian Sassanid empire.
In 633 AD, the Muslim General Khalid bin al Waheed led his Arab Muslim army to the gates of Anbar and offered the the same deal had made to all along the Euphrates--the Koran, the Tribute or the Sword. Or, convert to Islam, or pay the Jizyah and become dhimmies or fight it out. The residents of Anbar chose the sword before promptly deciding to run, convert or dhimmitude.
The modern heirs of Khalid--AQIZ--were once strong in Khalidiyah (but that was before the Anbar Awakening) now, the Police Lt. Colonel who is the Chief of the Khalidiyah post has made a new bargain: Get out of Khalidiyah, don't come to Khalidiyah or face the AK or inside of a prison cell.
Most of the AQIZ elements have chosen the get out of Khalidiyah option.
A drive through the heart of the town shows the unmistakable signs of progress--commerce, a vibrant market and women out shopping in the market.
But for as much progess as has been made in Khalidiyah, the police force is still a long way off from resembling even the most basic rural sheriffs departments of America.
COMMUNITY POLICING
North of Khalidiyah is the village of Husabayh Jawal. physically indistinguishable from the Khalidiyah, the only difference is Tribal.
I briefly met the 'Chief' of the Husabayh Jawal 'Police' when he dropped by the Khalidiyah station to conduct some business.
Later that afternoon, while on patrol with a squad from Kilo Company 3/6 Marines and four IP officers I saw him again.
He was clearly the man in charge, but it was not a police station, it was a check point that led to the village manned by volunteers.
The check point was complete with Hesco barriers, sand bagged guard shack and concertina wire and an RPK mounted on a pick up truck but no one was wearing blue shirts.
The policing going on Husabayh Jawal and Khalidiyah are truly community efforts. All the IP and volunteers come from the same tribes and clans and sets. They have lived their whole life in the are and are more loyal to the tribe than some distant government in Baghdad.
Their purpose is to secure their kin from AQIZ which has terrorized and intimidated the residents of the area since mid 2004.
PIMP MY RIDE
At mid morning a small convoy of humvees pulled into the police station to pick up some IP for a joint patrol in the Husabayh Jawal area.
The patrol was based out of a Combat Outpost so small it doesn't have a name, just a number--548.
A squad of Marines, the four IP and one documentary filmmaker set off on foot patrolling south along the ridge line of the mesa before dropping down into the village.
The first stop was at the home of local snitch. No intel was to gathered, but the Marines did get a kick out of watching a few minutes of 'Pimp My Ride' with Arabic subtitles.
The second stop was at the home of another reliable informant--crazy legs. Nothing happening.
The squad moves further south to a burned out factory. Across the road is the neighborhood watch check point--complete with AK 47s and an RPK mounted on a pick up truck--which seems to make sense in Iraq.
The track back to Patrol Base 548 is a zig zag through the village, over walls, through yards, down alleys. Completely unpredictable, the squad doubles back, goes lateral and moves with litle rhyme or reason--except there is a reason, they are checking cars against census data and making it impossible for any remnants of AQIZ to ambush them in the stucco and concrete corridors.
FOOD TV
Back at the station, the Police Training Team has concluded their work for the day, a small camp fire is lit and water boiled for the syrupy sweet tea common in Iraq.
A few IP arrive back from the butcher. Earlier in the day a lamb was purchased in the market. It was butchered, wrapped up and now was going to be seasoned with cinnamon and black pepper, wrapped in foil and eaten for dinner.
The soldiers and civillian police instructors sit around the fire swapping stories as police officers mingle in and out as the come off shift.
The night passes uneventfully--except for a water bottle bomb made from the heaters that come in MRE being set off.
Breakfast is the staple of the Anbar diet--tomatos and potatoes seared in oil with cinnamon and black pepper, flat bread and of course more tea.
EVIDENCE OF CONCERN
The training begins again. The main class and supervision for the day, which will be ongoing, is handling evidence.
Physical evidence is not a concept the IP have fully grasped. Chain of custody is a foreign, western concept.
The police instructors are swimming upstream again.
A pair of officers selected by the Chief because they have secondary educations and therefore can read and write are taken through the procedures. Log evidence in. Bag it. Label and number it. If the evidence comes out, it is logged out in the book.
The police officers say they understand. The IPLOs will keep a close eye, probably for weeks and months to come, on the evidence locker and log books. Their worst fear is the IPs deciding it is too much work to keep the books and that they stop collecting evidence altogether.
VAN DAMME
As the morning came to an end, I went into the courtyard of the station. I was wearing the Marine MarPat desert camoflage, hiking shoes, have long hair and a beard.
The IPs who had not seen me before were intrigued by this strange man.
After determing I was not an interpretor, or an IPLO, or some kind of Spec Ops type, they began to ask why I didn't have a gun.
I told them I was a reporter. They still wondered why I didn't have a gun.
Rather than give them the long explanation of it being against regulations for reporters to pack heat, I gave them the best answer I could.
I don't need a gun, I can kill with my bare hands. The translation was that I was Van Damme.
Upon learning that I was like Van Damme the IPs all wanted to have their pictures taken with me--even more than usual.
Iraqis love John Claude Van Damme like Germans love David Hasselhoff.
FINAL THOUGHTS
All PTTs work a little different because each station and area is different.
Some live for days even weeks at a time at the police station.
Others work a few days a week at the station.
Most PTTs work intimately with the infantry battalion in the AO, others, not so much.
As I understand it and saw it the role of the PTTs is more training than mentoring and supervising.
It may be that the coalition adopt a system similar to what the British used in Maylaya where the Brits acted as more of advising supervisors to Chiefs of Police and other civil government functions.
To develop a professional police force in a country with little history of it, will require more than classes, it will take direct involvement by advisors who teach more than classes--they teach on the job.
The Marines, Soldiers and Police Instructors of PTT 6 know they have a tough job and a job that will take years to complete.
They look for the small matrices of success in the basics--handling detainees with dignity, handling evidence, gathering evidence, keeping fingers off the trigger and building a rapport with key officers who through their tribal ties can demand effort from the ranks.
As for the end state...will the officers of the Khalidiyah police station ever resemble the quality of officers in major metro or suburban areas in the U.S.? No.
Could they get to a point where they resemble country Sheriffs Department deep in the rural areas of America? Yes. But even that will take time.
Freedom isn't free...and neither is reporting from Iraq. To help offset the costs of independent reporting and filmmaking of our military, please...
BUY A DVD
OR, make a donation by clicking on the button below.
|
