Barking_Mad
Non sibi sed omnibus
this is registration so here is the whole piece as its worth the read.
In City's Ruins, Military Faces New Mission: Building Trust
In City's Ruins, Military Faces New Mission: Building Trust
When the owners of one house near the farthest southern boundary of this city return, they will find a crater 40 feet across and 8 feet deep, with one wall still standing and recognizable pieces of a ceiling strewn beside it. A broken kebab stand, its canopy collapsed, its two wheels exposed, leans over crazily into one lip of the crater.
The entire street in this district looks about the same. On Monday morning, after they had seemingly been crushed the day before, insurgents began firing from windows, bunkers and piles of rubble, setting off a five-hour gun battle. The street, once flat, has been hit with so many 500-pound bombs that it looks like the zone of collision between oceanic ice sheets, with huge dips and shelves of pavement and soil. Now the American military faces the urgent but almost paradoxical imperative of rebuilding the city it just destroyed in order to defeat the rebels who had held it for so long. The devastation that the battle has wrought will not be easy to repair. The human and political effects of that devastation could rapidly spread far beyond Falluja.
Military engineers are already starting to deploy throughout the city with tens of millions of dollars at their disposal to fix some of the damage. If the engineers do not succeed, then the outrage that is likely to be generated among returning residents at the sight of obliterated mosques, cratered houses and ground-up streets will spread. Either way, the results will deeply mark the American-backed government's ability to gain the trust of the people here and carry out elections, scheduled for late January.
The radio code name for the artillery crews who bring in many of the big shells is "steel rain." That is what came down when the battle started at 7 a.m. on Monday. The day before, tanks and fighting vehicles had come roaring through here shooting at anything that moved, but dozens of the insurgents apparently lay low. They hid in the ugly concrete houses of this neighborhood, where the city of Falluja stops quite abruptly along a street running east to west. They also waited in a row of makeshift earthen bunkers in a field of slag heaps and trash about 100 yards south of the rubble-strewn street.
As always in this battle, at the center of the fight was one of the mosques the insurgents have surrounded with ramparts and firing positions, and where they have placed weapons caches. At one point the fighting swirled on all sides of the mosque, and Marine companies became confused about exactly where friendly troops were. "We've got a back-alley gunfight going on," said Capt. Read Omohundro, commander of Company B of the First Battalion, Eighth Marines. "So watch where you fire into the mosque!"
A tank fired a round at an insurgent sniper in the minaret and punched a hole straight through the middle of it - and scored a direct hit on the insurgent. "We turned a guy into rubble," a marine said. But the minaret, smoking like a chimney, stood there with the daylight showing through it, and later a marine in Company B was killed while climbing stairs inside, shot by an insurgent who had somehow remained above. After two other marines retrieved his body, a pair of 500-pound bombs were called in and the mosque was no more.
The incompatible images that have marked the battle for Falluja, like a fairy tale etched on a tombstone, turned up again in a trench dug around the mosque. An exercise book for learning to write in English lay open on the dirt, the last blank on the page neatly filled in with these words: "She isn't playing today. Neither is the other girl." The steel rain fell, and fell. Telephone poles came down, their wires threading in and out of rubble piles. Fires burned out of control. Tanks rolled over cars. Hungry dogs roamed the streets.
The insurgents killed at least one other marine today - he looked into a room where half a dozen were waiting, and they shot him before dragging off his body and his gun. Marines recovered his body. But however deadly the rebels were able to make this filthy dead-end in the desert, there was also something terribly pathetic about their stand. After the makeshift bunkers had been mercilessly bombed, a man in a white dishdasha emerged and tried to get away by crawling across the slag heaps. He was machine-gunned, he plopped to the ground, and he died where he fell.Despite what appeared to be the collapse of the insurgency here, Lt. Col. Gareth Brandl cautioned: "This is not won yet. Now we have to rebuild the city."