US forces, hit by raids, fault their Iraqi allies

RAMADI, Iraq -- The Humvees were speeding through the dark city when a heart-stopping boom brought the convoy lurching to a halt. Red sparks cartwheeled into the sky. The Marines ran through a dust cloud and found four comrades bleeding from a roadside bomb.

The bomb, buried outside an Iraqi National Guard headquarters, marked the third time in 10 days that US troops in the capital of the country's most violent province had been attacked under the noses of Iraqi security forces, whose cooperation is crucial to their success. Three days before, on July 21, scores of guerrillas fired rifles and rocket-propelled grenades from rooftops near National Guard buildings, sparking a street battle that drew in more than a battalion of US forces, and that killed 25 insurgents.

Marines in Ramadi are fighting the toughest urban warfare in Iraq and are taking on perhaps the most delicate diplomacy, working with Iraqi counterparts whom they don't always trust, while trying to lower their profile in a city that wants them out. Their experiences show the challenges that US troops face when they stay closely engaged in a hub of resistance, a scenario that may arise elsewhere as fighting heats up in cities like Samarra and Baqubah.

The strategy in Ramadi, 90 miles west of Baghdad, has kept insurgents from gaining the free hand they wield in nearby Fallujah, where Marines headed off a bloody showdown in April by handing security duties to a group of former army officers and resistance fighters. It has also kept millions of US reconstruction dollars pouring into Ramadi, while the resistance in Fallujah has led to a cutoff in US aid.

But staying in Ramadi comes at a high price. The Marines stationed in three small bases downtown have borne the highest concentration of US casualties since early April. The Second Battalion, Fourth Marine Regiment, has seen 31 Marines killed, and more than 200 wounded. That casualty rate amounts to more than 20 percent.

Every day, they consider tricky questions. Will reducing their footprint build good will? Or will it embolden insurgents? Is their presence preventing attacks? Or is it causing them?

''Our presence here may be insulting, our presence may cause violence, but a lack of our presence could create chaos," said Major Dave Harrill, 34, operations officer for the Second Battalion. ''What is the right moment to pull back? If we get that right, we can have success in every city in Iraq."

A month after Iraq regained formal sovereignty, the military is building facilities outside the city center where the battalion can move on short notice, when Iraqis are ready to take charge, senior Marine officers said.

The military has halted daytime supply convoys that blocked traffic and offended residents, and has cut back most patrols to let Iraqi forces take the lead. But four months after taking over from US Army troops, Marines in central Ramadi look less like advisers about to hand off control to a nascent government than combatants in an urban battleground.

After a burst of fighting in April that killed a dozen Marines and scores of insurgents, Marines no longer flood neighborhoods to hear concerns and hand out information about Iraq's new government. They protect the main road through town, a major US supply route, watching from observation posts to stop insurgents from planting roadside bombs.

It takes less than 10 minutes to drive from any base to the government center. But the Marines don't travel, even a few hundred yards to an observation post, with fewer than four heavily armed Humvees -- preferably encased in armor and blast-proof glass.

Marines on the front lines haven't lost the stomach for the fight; in battle, they say, they feel most sure of their mission. But nearly unanimously, they say they can neither interact with Iraqis the way they had expected when they arrived with orders to win ''hearts and minds," nor can they deal a knockout blow to guerrillas.

''Every guy you kill, there's always going to be someone else," said Corporal Glen Handy, 26, of Las Vegas.

Pulling back to observation posts can be ''frustrating for the Marines" said Captain Christopher Bronzi, 31, of Poughquag, N.Y., commander of the Second Battalion's Golf Company. ''You wonder what they are doing out there," he said, referring to insurgents.

''We'd be doing more good if we weren't here. We can send soccer balls from America," said Corporal Nat Canaga, 18, from Colorado, who was wounded by a grenade while on foot patrol.

The Marines' mission changed on April 6, when insurgents launched coordinated attacks on patrols across the city, sparking a two-day battle. Marines launched aggressive raids that killed 80 insurgents, netted 90 prisoners, and tamped down attacks for a time.

As the sovereignty handoff approached, guerrillas struck again. Marines killed 25 fighters in a seven-hour battle June 14. Marines win the large fights, but face some of the country's deadliest attacks. Last month, a car bomb killed four Marines; and four more died when insurgents ambushed their observation post.

They can't leave until Ramadi's officials -- especially the security forces -- stand on their own.

At the headquarters of the First Marine Division and the Army's First Brigade, across the river Euphrates from downtown, senior officers say they are making slow and steady progress. They point to the provincial government, which still needs US protection -- the governor's three sons were kidnapped at gunpoint on Wednesday -- but increasingly sets the reconstruction agenda. They say that even baby steps from Iraqi security forces must be hailed.

Checking on troops patrolling a road on Ramadi's outskirts, Army Lieutenant Colonel Mike Cabrey said Iraqi forces have begun patrolling reliably there. But at the hardscrabble downtown bases, fighters have less confidence in Iraqi forces.

''They're cowards," said the Marine battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel Paul Kennedy, a Boston University graduate from Bloomfield, Conn.

He voiced hope that Ramadi's tough new National Guard chief, Qadhim Faris, would shape them up. Faris, a former officer in Saddam Hussein's Republican Guard, was detained last year for allegedly plotting to kill a US Army commander.

Kennedy believes the charges, but reasons: ''If someone came to the US and threw me out of the Marine Corps . . . I know some things about fighting, and I'd probably ply my trade."

Kennedy said he dressed down Faris and the police chief after the July 21 attack, when guerrillas ambushed Marines near Iraqi security buildings with a roadside bomb, gunfire, and two car bombs. ''The bombs were placed literally under their nose . . . and they didn't do anything," said Kennedy, who is 41 years old.

He recalled telling the Iraqis: ''Listen, you guys have failed. This is supposed to be your time in the spotlight."

The following day, the National Guard and police swept the city. An expected insurgent attack did not happen. It was the biggest leap forward in months, Kennedy said.

But at Combat Outpost, a base that is hit by mortars almost daily, Bronzi's Marines voiced skepticism.The whole neighborhood knew of the impending attack, they said; guerrillas had blocked side streets to keep civilians away. Iraqi forces were either complicit, afraid to tip off Marines, or clueless, said First Lieutenant Robert Scott, 27, the executive officer.

''They should know," he said at the mess hall, a former warehouse. ''There's just no excuse."

Hamid Abid, an Iraqi National Guard member training at another US base, said Iraqi troops want to protect Ramadi but are in ''a very bad situation."

''When we go home, people say, 'You are an agent for the coalition forces,' " Abid said. ''When they leave and we take care of everything, it will be good."

That night, after escorting fresh troops, the Marine convoy ran over the bomb.

''What have you got up there?" First Lieutenant Scott shouted. He ran off. ''We have casualties," his driver said into the radio. ''Number unknown at this time."

A Humvee had been hit at a deserted checkpoint outside the Iraqi National Guard headquarters, where concrete barriers force vehicles into a slow slalom. Marines later said they had seen people moving inside the building -- Guardsmen, they believed.

Back at the base, the wounded Marines screamed in pain. Their comrades wiped their blood from the garage floor, uttering expletives at Iraqis in general and at the National Guard in particular.

The attackers had tunneled under the pavement to place the bomb. The operation would have taken enough time for the National Guard to have noticed, the Marines said.

''Did they come outside after the explosion?" an officer asked over the radio. Bronzi shook his head. ''They remained inside, sir," Scott said evenly. Later, he said, ''I'm debating whether to arrest them all."

That night, Bronzi said the Guard is ''in no way shape or form" prepared to take over.

''They're supposed to be observing an area, and they could be sleeping. Or they could just be cowards," he said.

It was time for Kennedy to have another talk with Faris.

Anne Barnard can be reached at abarnard@globe.com.