As war grows longer, troops' patience is shorter

MOSUL, Iraq — In a middle-class neighborhood on the Tigris River, members of Charlie Company's 4th Platoon dismount from their armored vehicles and bang on doors. They're talking to residents, looking for information on insurgents in this city of 1.8 million.

While the soldiers' reception varies, one Christian family welcomes them with smiles. But misunderstanding quickly ensues.

"Please don't take our weapon," the mother of four pleads in Arabic when Army Staff Sgt. Josh Clevenger comes across an AK-47. "We need it to defend ourselves. It is not safe. Anything can happen."

Clevenger has no intention of confiscating the rifle — nor any comprehension of the woman's plea. With his platoon's lone interpreter elsewhere, he effectively is rendered speechless.

"Your weapon is filled with blanks," says Clevenger, from Muncie, Ind., his voice unwittingly rising as he tries to help the woman. "These aren't real bullets — they won't protect you."

For U.S. soldiers who don't grasp Iraq's language or culture, a central part of their mission — generating good will and support — remains far more difficult than capturing insurgents. While officers remain largely on message and outwardly optimistic, many front-line men such as Clevenger, who patrol "outside the wire" twice daily, say their patience is wearing thin.

"I don't want to stay here too much longer. The Iraqi army is getting to where they can get a hold of things now," Clevenger said. "The longer we're here and the more times they attack us, the more they're going to figure out how to better their attacks."

More than a few soldiers of the Army's 172nd Stryker Brigade Combat Team, based at Fort Wainwright in Alaska, shuddered last week when President Bush said total withdrawal of U.S. troops "will be decided by future presidents and future governments of Iraq."

Three years after the invasion, many soldiers say it is time to hand over control to Iraqis. Most of those interviewed echoed a recent Zogby poll that found that 72 percent of U.S. troops favor withdrawal within one year.

"I think we're doing good things here, but I think we need to start pulling it out," said Spc. Mathew Merced, a jovial infantryman from McMinnville, Ore. "The Iraqi army here has come a long way in just the short time we've been here."

More than 2,320 U.S. servicemen have died in the longest U.S. armed conflict since Vietnam. American support for the war, 62 percent three years ago, has dwindled to 43 percent, according to a recent CNN/Gallup/USA Today poll.

For those soldiers with years left on their contracts, for young fathers, and newlyweds, the prospect of the war dragging on is disconcerting. Divorce rates in the Army have increased at least 25 percent since the war began.

"In the back of your mind, you wonder how much longer is this going to go on, how many more times am I going to have to come back over here," said 1st Lt. Michael McCasland of Spokane, who spent two weeks with his newborn daughter before returning to Iraq. "There has to be a point when Iraqis take responsibility for their own country."

Compared with much of Iraq, the northern Sunni-Kurdish city of Mosul is relatively calm. Still, two roadside bombs struck the battalion's armored eight-wheeled Strykers on Sunday, though there were no casualties. In the city's eastern half alone, McCasland's battalion endures an average of 50 roadside-bomb attacks each month, and a few car bombs.

The insurgents' attacks have grown less effective, but seem to be adapting, officers say. Some worry that a catastrophic attack could be imminent.

"The enemy has gotten very well-organized and very well-versed in what they're doing, as if they've gotten new leadership in the area," intelligence officer Capt. Mark Awad told Iraqi army and police in Mosul on Saturday.

Defeating the insurgency is as much about reaching ordinary Iraqis as it is about capturing terrorists.

"The fight is really for the people and their mind-set," said Lt. Col. Richard Greene of Germantown, Md., the battalion's executive officer.

While frustrated at the often-tense relationship with Iraqis, soldiers take solace in the swarms of children that greet them wherever they go. Although the children often are after the Beanie Babies and candies that soldiers dole out, their response offers much-needed reassurance.

"When we roll into a neighborhood, it's like a parade with all the young kids running out," Clevenger said. "I think we're definitely making a difference here."

But in the leafy front yard of a well-to-do Kurdish family, three women spew vitriol in the face of platoon leader 1st Lt. Raymond Maszarose of Vicksburg, Md. The women say U.S. troops accidentally killed their father and two of their nephews last year.

"We hate the Americans," said one of the women, calling herself simply Om Omar. "They destroyed our country. They can't protect this country, can't provide electricity. Why'd they come here? It's a nightmare."

They are not alone. A recent poll by WorldPublicOpinion.org of 1,150 Iraqis showed that nearly half of all Iraqis and nine of every 10 Sunni Arabs support attacks on U.S. forces.

"We're up to over 2,300 U.S. military deaths, and it sucks that they feel like that," Clevenger said.

Soldiers say they are bending over backward to keep the peace, and they are confounded that Iraqis don't seem to appreciate that.

"I don't hate all Arabs just because a few of them blew up the World Trade Center, so why should they hate all U.S. soldiers just because one shot their father?" asked Cpl. Joshua Hedges, a father of three from Warrensburg, Mo.

Back on base, Pvt. Isaac Ussery, of Naples, Fla., offered an explanation as he played "Blackhawk Down" on a Sony PlayStation.

"Saddam had [things] under control, and we don't basically," he said. "Iraq was safe under Saddam. You weren't safe from him, but you were safe from your neighbor and you were safe from Syrian people trying to come in and blow things up."