Publication:Chattanooga Times Free Press
Date:Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Section:Front Page; Page:1

By Edward Lee Pitts
Military Affairs

CAMP CALDWELL, Iraq -- This past spring 278th Regimental Combat Team soldiers from the 3rd Squadron made an Iraqi teenager the base VIP for a day.

Befriended by the Tennessee-based National Guard regiment after volunteering to make marketplace food runs for soldiers at Khanaqin's downtown security center, Mohammed received a ringside seat during the squadron's monthly boxing matches at Forward Operating Base Cobra.

Stories of such bonds with Iraqis abound among the nearly 3,000 soldiers in the regiment, now into their sixth month of service along the Iranian border.

Soldiers talk about giving an Iraqi his first dip of Copenhagen smokeless tobacco, swapping life stories while sharing gate guard duties, challenging one another to pushup contests, teaching Iraqis how to play video games or answering questions, as well as a Tennessean can, on life in New York City or California.

Even brief visitors to the 278th's area notice troops here reach out more than some others to locals of all ages and backgrounds.

"This is not an adversarial relationship," said Gen. B.B. Bell, a Chattanooga native and the top Army general in Europe, after he spent a day last month with the regiment. "The Iraqi people in that area are respectful and appreciate their help."

Gen. Bell said the friendships might have developed because both the guardsmen and local Iraqis are from largely rural backgrounds and share strong family traditions.

CAUTIOUS CAMARADERIE

The camaraderie does not mean there are not some uneasy alliances.

Lt. Col. Mark Hart, 1st Squadron commander, makes regular visits for tea with a local sheik accused of being a Saddam Hussein loyalist who spent several months in Abu Ghraib prison. Lt. Col. Hart said he uses the time to gather intelligence about local bomb makers or planters.

But most relationships developing here are genuine because the soldiers feel sympathy for the plight of the poor, 278th troops said.

The teenage VIP, Mohammed, dropped out of school earlier this year to help support his family after his brother died in a suicide bombing.

"These kids are affected so much by what happens here," said Lt. Col. Jeff Holmes, the 3rd Squadron commander. "They are forced to grow up. You have 12-year-olds taking on the responsibilities of 20-year-olds."

Lt. Col. Holmes won't let Mohammed's dream of becoming a doctor die and has refused his pleas for work at FOB Cobra. Instead, Lt. Col. Holmes pays Mohammed $20 a month to stay in school and out of trouble. During the recent boxing matches, 278th soldiers named Mohammed an honorary medic.

Lt. Col. Holmes said when he told Mohammed's mother about her son's professional goals, "She started crying and said, 'Poor people can't become doctors'"

Sometimes even strangers treat the 278th troops as heroes.

When a 278th convoy drove through the Kurdish town of Irbil on the day the interim government named a Kurd as Iraq's president, thousands of people, stacked in rows 100 deep, cheered the Americans, said Sgt. Tom Troup, 56, of Morristown, Tenn.

"If we had stopped, the people would have carried us everywhere," said Sgt. Troup, who recalled seeing a boy wrapped in an American flag. "Our feet would have never touched the ground."

PERILS REMAIN

But those who work for the 278th still face life-threatening risks.

Many Iraqis have quit their lucrative base jobs after bringing in letters saying they would be killed if they kept working with the Americans, said Spc. William Bafford, 33, of Sparta, Tenn.

Some area mosques have published lists of known workers, while religious leaders preach against the Americans, and one Iraqi man is said to have offered his daughter as a reward for anyone who kills at least four Americans.

Two female translators have been slain since the 278th took charge here, officials said.

"You can be shot anytime you go home," said Saad, one among 200 translators working at Camp Caldwell. To protect their identities, translators and others use only their first names. "But if you want something, you should give something."

Saad once took two months off when he feared people from his hometown were starting to become suspicious of his daily whereabouts. As a cover story, Saad tells everyone he works for his brother in Baghdad. During his time off he visited his brother to make sure his face was seen in Baghdad.

Not just an Iraqi worker's own life but the lives of his or her family members are in danger, Camp Caldwell translator Magdy said.

This spring insurgents killed the brother of a man running a shop inside Camp Caldwell. Authorities found the man's body in downtown Balad Ruz with a sign around his neck warning that a similar fate awaited those connected to the Americans. The shop owner closed down his base store, but another Iraqi since has reopened it.

"In Iraq you deal with danger all of the time," Magdy said.

This ever-present peril forces the Iraqi workers to keep quiet and sometimes join in whenever people in their hometowns publicly criticize Americans, even though many translators call 278th soldiers their friends.

Camp Caldwell translators interviewed said they like helping their country and meeting people from different cultures despite the threats they must guard against. Besides, they admit, the money isn't too bad.

Nawzad, a translator from Khanaqin who regularly plays and beats U.S. troops in chess, said he hopes that working as a translator will improve his English enough that he can one day go to America.

BONDS FORGED

Working on the 278th bases has dismantled many stereotypes held by both the translators and the Tennessee soldiers.

"I trust every one of them," said Staff Sgt. Jeff Ball, 42, of Maryville, Tenn. "If they were in the U.S., they would be welcome in my home."

Staff Sgt. Ball, who works directly with the translators in the public affairs office, recently had his father ship over a box filled with orange Tennessee Volunteers baseball caps, which the translators now wear almost daily.

He said his attitude has been transformed since his first interactions with Iraqis in December.

"I didn't know what I thought about Iraqis except they were killing Americans," Staff Sgt. Ball said. "I didn't think I could be friends to any of them."

Magdy said he thought all American soldiers were in Iraq to kill Iraqis and steal the country's money and oil.

Now the men eat lunch together daily, and the jokes and the talk about girls aren't much different than lunch conversations between two American guys back in the United States. The translators have Staff Sgt. Ball's Arabic vocabulary up to about 500 words, he said.

"We've learned by being together we are more the same than different," Staff Sgt. Ball said. "The hardest thing about leaving Iraq will be leaving them."

E-mail Lee Pitts at lpitts@timesfreepress.com

On the Web: Photos by U.S. Army Staff Sgt. Russell Lee Klika of the 278th Regimental Combat Team are available on the Times Free Press Web site. Visit http://www.timesfreepress.com/kp .

U.S. Army Photo by Staff Sgt. Russell Lee Klika - An unidentified 278th Regimental Combat team soldier lets some Iraqi children check out his weapon while he waits outside the city council building near Tuz in northern Iraq.

U.S. Army Photo by Staff Sgt. Russell Lee Klika - 278th Regimental Combat Team Spc. Josh Berry, 24, of Tellico Plains, Tenn., greets an Iraqi child.

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