A wide variety of vehicles enter Sadr City.
I finally made it into Sadr City. Gaining entrance has been difficult, because Army public affairs embedded me with a unit (3-89 Cav) that operates only up to the Shia district's southwestern border. Traveling around Iraq is not as easy as telling military convoys where you'd like to go, and you still can't catch a cab without the (increasingly remote) chance of winding up the lead in a jihadi snuff video. On Thursday, I fortunately caught a ride with a Military Police unit that had plans to liaise with their personnel manning the Sadr City Joint Security Station (JSS), an Iraqi Police station in the southern part of the district.
The southwestern edge of Sadr City is bordered by a major highway dubbed "Route Pluto" by the Americans. Streams of military vehicles periodically turn off of the wide thoroughfare and on to a dusty shoulder, passing staged stacks of concrete T-Walls used in the counterinsurgency barrier being constructed a few blocks north on Al Quds Street. As my convoy took this route and turned into Sadr City, we entered an area held by the 1st Squadron, 2nd Stryker Cavalry Regiment and the engineers attached to them. The space looked like a scaled down version of D-Day +2 in Normandy. Clouds of dust rolled over rows of Abrams tanks, MRAPS, Strykers, humvees and odd engineering vehicles entering the district. The stacatto thrum of Apache attack helicopters sounded overhead.
A short walk took me to an old school that serves as the headquarters for the Stryker Cav. The building buzzed with energy. Soldiers were entering and exiting in varying states of battle dress, hanging out, laying communications wire, shaving in a corner, typing on a laptop and carrying messages into a command center, where personnel ran an operation presumably taking place somewhere immediately north. Litters and stacks of medical supplies were prepped in a corner. A furry white and tan puppy wandered into the middle of the orderly commotion, and soldiers petted the dog as it ambled through the building.
A couple of loud, crackling booms echoed through the hallways. Some of the soldiers who were visiting the school jumped and prepared to leave "if that's incoming," while most of the Stryker Cav nonchalantly ignored it. The explosions turned out to be the "outgoing" impact of Hellfire missiles fired from the prowling Apaches. The munitions had landed near enough to closely resemble the sound of incoming mortars.
This Iraqi puppy was unfazed by the commotion.
Eventually we walked over to the Sadr City Joint Security Station (JSS), also known as JSS Al Tharwa. It's a bright blue police station housing a modest number of Iraqi cops and their American advisers. The mission of the cops at the JSS right now is merely "force protection" -- essentially showing up and manning bunkers and towers to defend the building from militia attack. As a war rages near and sometimes at it, the station is considered "unstable." Snipers are active in the area, some skilled and well-equipped enough that the soldiers casually refer to them as "Iranian" (this may or may not be accurate). And on average, the station is hit "once or twice a week ... usually with small arms fire," according to Staff Sergeant Joseph Houle, squad leader of the 3rd squad, 1-91 Military Police Company.
This instability was apparent on April 28th, when insurgents attacked the building with 8-12 rockets. Video of the event is astounding: the rockets successively pounded the side of the building, huge clouds of smoke and debris erupting at each impact. Horrified American onlookers at JSS Al Qanat across the street assumed that the toll in dead and wounded would be significant, but, miraculously, all of the American and Iraqi occupants survived with only a few minor injuries. The word "miracle" seemed appropriate as I examined the portion of the building that bore the attack.
Houle says that the Sadr City cops working at the station are "very friendly," but he doesn't know them particularly well. The American unit has been working at the JSS for only two weeks.
Some of the cops are "eager to learn" but many "won't say" where they live, added 1-91 MP Sergeant Travis Sand. He describes his unit's mission as "trying to build up the local area, to make a better workspace for [the Iraqi Police] and us."
The busy surrounding area is urban residential, with a few shops and other businesses. The streets have been closed to vehicle traffic, spurring interaction between walking citizens and patrolling American units.
"They seem interested to meet you, to get to know us," said Sand. "Not a lot of frowns or anything, a lot of smiles. When I talked to a few of the people, they want peace, and they are more glad we're here and that we're trying to work on a solution."
He said the locals studiously avoid mentioning the Mahdi Army, which continues to take heavy losses in daily conflict with US and Iraqi forces.
The Shia Mahdi militiamen are said to have a stronger instinct for self-preservation than their Sunni extremist equivalents in Al Qaeda, who tend to favor suicide attacks. But after reading engagement reports and witnessing the combat power arrayed against them, I wonder.
UPDATE: Or perhaps they're more realistic than I was beginning to assume ... but do note that the Sadrist politicians merely have titular control over all Mahdi Army footsoldiers. Some thugs will continue to fight to defend their criminal enterprises, and some true believers will ignore the agreement.
A mosque stands to the side of the Sadr City JSS.
