Barnes Blog
As the conflict in Iraq continues, U.S. News has dispatched Pentagon correspondent Julian E. Barnes for a frontline view. Barnes, who has periodically reported from Iraq since the war began in 2003, is blogging his impressions for usnews.com.
In Mosul, an American 'mayor'
The soldiers in Sgt. 1st Class Michael Steffey's platoon call him the mayor of Tal al Ruman. Armed with a hand-held computer that speaks a set number of Arabic phrases, Steffey walks down the streets of Tal al Ruman, a poor neighborhood on the west side of Mosul, talking to the neighborhood kids. He mainly focuses on the smaller children, chatting up the boys and girls between 5 and 12 years old. He asks their age, if they are in school, if they are married. His command of Arabic is not great. But he uses the few words he knows—and a hand-held translator—to great effect. And after a few minutes, he has them laughing.
He does his best to appear approachable. He takes off both the dark wraparound sunglasses soldiers must wear for protection against shrapnel and his helmet so that the children can see his face.
"I run around talking to the kids," says Steffey, a short man with a trimmed mustache, lively eyes, and a quick smile. "If anyone is going to tell me anything, it is the kids."
The adults are not forgotten, of course. As Steffey begins an impromptu game of soccer with a group of children, 2nd Lt. James Snoddy, the platoon leader, and his personal translator question a shop owner, some residents, and a contractor rebuilding the road. Despite the apparent goodwill the residents Tal al Ruman have for Steffey, there is not much information coming to the 1-17 Infantry Battalion of the 172nd Stryker Brigade.
"They are happy to have us here, but if it puts their families in danger, they aren't going to tell us where the bad guys are," Steffey says.
In fact, the jokey honorific of mayor bestowed on Steffey is indicative of the real problem in the neighborhood. The last community leader, or muktar, stepped down after insurgents threatened him. And the muktar before that was killed. "The problem we have here is no one will be mayor," Steffey says.
Steffey says overt violence in the neighborhood is uncommon, but there is plenty of intimidation. One man who helped the American platoon hand out wheelchairs to disabled residents, was threatened by insurgents and told the U.S. soldiers not to call on him anymore. Another woman was beaten up and her furniture burned because she had a son in the Iraqi security forces.
It was frustrating to me because I couldn't help her," Steffey says. "I am here two hours a day. I couldn't tell her I would protect her."
For all the frustration, Steffey is determined to do what he can and help whom he can. A small stuffed bear sits in the back of Steffey's Stryker armored vehicle as a reminder of that mission. The bear was a gift from 4-year-old Amal Khalil Ibrahim. Steffey and his soldiers met Amal while they were knocking on doors and doing routine searches. Earlier this year, before the 172nd Brigade arrived, Amal was badly injured when an improvised explosive device aimed at a passing American patrol went off.
She received care from an Iraqi doctor and spent seven months in the hospital. The military doctors saved her life. But her legs healed improperly and she is badly scarred.
After meeting Amal, Steffey brought the brigade surgeon to see her. The surgeon concluded that her wounds may have become infected. He recommended that she see a specialist in Mosul.
On the way home from their Sunday afternoon patrol Steffey, Snoddy, and the rest of the platoon stop at Amal's home to check to see when she is going to visit the specialist. It turns out treatment from the specialist will cost $500, more than the family has.
Amal's father says his daughter does not want to go back to the hospital but asks if an American doctor can see her. Snoddy shakes his head. He tells his translator that the Americans can help only when the Americans break something or cause collateral damage. When Iraqis are hurt by other Iraqis, the best the American soldiers can do is try to find people Iraqi help. Sitting cradled in her mother's arms behind her father, Amal is crying. She says something in Arabic. Snoddy's translator says Amal is complaining that the neighborhood children tease her and say the Americans cannot help her.
It is an absolutely heart-wrenching scene. Sitting in the corner, Steffey speaks up.
"We've got to do something," he says. "She is a . . . little girl. And she got blown up because we are here."
Snoddy and Steffey agree that they will ask the brigade surgeon to return for another visit. As the platoon gets up and prepares to leave, the soldiers begin talking about how much money from each of them it will take to raise the $500.
On the way home from the patrol, an explosion rocks the Stryker immediately ahead of Steffey's vehicle. His television monitor shows a puff of smoke ahead. The platoon has been hit with an IED. It was a small roadside bomb, and the Stryker's are tough vehicles. There are no injuries or damage to the soldiers—and there were no Iraqis in the range of the blast. But the irony is still not lost on Steffey.
"Here we are just trying to help the little girl," he says, "and we get hit by an IED."