Two Iraqi children run to the road and wave at U.S. troops as they roll by on patrol, a scene replayed by many Iraqi children. If they get out of their vehicles, the troops say they’re swarmed like rock stars, not always to the pleasure of the youngsters’ parents. (Charlie Coon / S&S)
AD DAWR, Iraq — The platoon rolled out from its base, just a few miles from where Saddam Hussein was found in December 2003, hiding in a hole, to conduct a “counter-mortar patrol.”
Friday’s forecast called for boredom. The soldiers of Company B, 1st Battalion, 15th Infantry Regiment knew they’d likely be sitting for hours and watching the Iraqi dirt. If the enemy fired mortars from nearby, as had happened several times in recent weeks, they’d respond. If not, at least their vigil would provide the enemy with one less place to set up.
This assignment, though, allowed them time to reflect. After 1½ months of their 12-month tour, some troops have concluded that the young people of Iraq hold the key to their country’s prospect for peace.
“I think teenagers are the ones we should be trying to influence the most,” said Sgt. Stephen Borosh of Elkhart, Ind. “The kids are the future, but the [teens] are the ones a little bit closer to where we want to go.”
Like anywhere else, teenagers in Iraq are old enough to make their own bad decisions. Some have trouble looking U.S. soldiers in the eye, Borosh said. Some can be easily bought, and do bad things for money such as planting bombs.
Also, like anywhere else in this region, which is manned by the 42nd Infantry Division’s Task Force Liberty, city kids can be different from country kids.
“If you go out to the outlying farm areas, you can see it in their eyes — they really like having you around,” Borosh said. “In the city, they’re more affected by the insurgency and what’s been going on here.”
When a patrol of U.S. military Humvees comes rolling down a road, children often run from their homes to the side of the road and wave. If soldiers get out of their vehicles, they’re often swarmed like rock stars.
Sometimes the adulation stops there.
First Lt. John Ghee of Cheltenham, Pa., recalled an incident when he greeted a smiling young boy.
“Then I walked away and when I turned back, the boy’s father slapped him on the head,” Ghee said.
Children do not always cheer the soldiers. Their feelings, soldiers say, sometimes accurately measure the sentiments of the older people in the neighborhood.
“In some sections the kids like us,” Ghee said. “Then you drive a mile or two up the road and they’re throwing rocks at us.”
The soldiers wonder what some of Iraq’s adults are thinking.
During a night patrol in late February, Ghee’s Humvee was hit by a homemade bomb. Spc. Michael Groce of Panama City, Fla., sitting up top behind his .240 Squad Automatic Weapon, had his earplugs blown out.
The Humvee, which had its tire blown out, limped back to Forward Operating Base Wilson on its rim. A few days later, the soldiers returned to the site. In the daylight, they noticed the bomb had been placed at the corner of a school.
Spc. Marion Brawley of Corona, Calif., shook his head at the memory.
“It pisses you off is what it does,” Brawley said. “It’s one thing if [insurgents] don’t like us. But you put [the IED] next to a school. …”
“Even our guys mess up sometimes,” Brawley acknowledged. “They might get the wrong grid [and launch an attack].”
Friday’s forecast proved correct. Fifteen months after Saddam was captured, young soldiers parked on a flat field, watching dirt.
“Not in the next 10 years; maybe in 20,” said Brawley when asked if he had hope for the future of Iraq. “It doesn’t matter that we’re here. It’s on the [Iraqi] people. I want to win [the children’s] hearts and minds. I don’t care about the adults. They’re already set in their minds.”
