The War in Iraq

The military police company from Warwick patrols the highways around Baghdad, searching for explosive devices.

08:52 AM EDT on Wednesday, October 15, 2003

BY MICHAEL CORKERY
Journal Staff Writer

BAGHDAD, Iraq -- Sgt. 1st Class Shaun Mulholland and his team rolled across an overpass, and something caught his eye.

Two days earlier, a pipe bomb had blown apart a portion of this bridge and severely injured a soldier from the 82nd Airborne.

The military police from the Rhode Island National Guard had pushed damaged beams on the bridge back into place.

Yesterday, the beams had been moved again. Mulholland, 35, got out of his green metal Humvee and walked over to investigate.

Peering into the hole, between the beams, the platoon sergeant spotted what every American soldier in Iraq fears: a wire.

It's the telltale sign of an IED -- an improvised explosive device -- that is killing and maiming Americans regularly.

Mulholland's crew radioed for help from Army explosive experts.

His squad -- 10 members of the 119th Military Police Company -- sealed off the overpass to traffic.

Mulholland didn't like the situation. When patrolling the highways around Baghdad, he likes to keep the MPs moving quickly. His team was too exposed out there on the bridge.

Journal photo / John Freidah GREAT DEPTHS: Sgt. Shaun Mulholland, of New Hampshire, a member of the Army National Guard's 119th Military Police Company, based in Warwick, descends into a bridge joint outside Baghdad, Iraq, yesterday to look for bombs. In the rear is Sgt. Justin Pelissey, of Warwick.

Graffiti written in red on the concrete warned: "Woe to the collaborators," signed by the Fedayeen.

Mulholland looked up into the black, square hole. Clutching a yellow flashlight and wire clippers, he climbed inside.

MULHOLLAND'S SQUAD knew this was going to be a busy afternoon in Baghdad.

After a lunch break at the airport, the MPs piled into three Humvees and headed out on patrol.

It was shortly after 1 p.m. The emergency radio crackled to life.

Mulholland, traveling in the lead Humvee, grabbed a radio receiver from the dashboard and pulled it to his ear.

It was a report of an IED near a gas station.

At the wheel of the Humvee, Mulholland took a sharp right onto the dirt road leading out of the airport. A cooler filled with ice dumped into the lap of the MPs' interpreter, a man named Sargon.

The airport gate opened. And Mulholland and his team plunged into the world of unpredictable danger.

"We are fair game," Mulholland said. "It's one of those things; if your luck runs out, your luck runs out."

The biggest threats to U.S. troops are the explosive devices planted along the roadside. They are hidden in just about everything. Many are detected only after they explode.

The road leading south out of Baghdad International Airport is littered with debris -- piles of concrete, mounds of trash. Iraqi children wave from the roadsides.

Mulholland steered the Humvee away from the guardrail, where explosives are often placed.

The road widened from one lane to two lanes, then three. Mulholland sped up, passing a convoy of supply trucks at 50 mph. "The faster you go the better chances of survival," he said.

A longtime member of the National Guard and a resident of New Hampshire, he joined the Rhode Island unit because he wanted to be in the military police.

Specialist Daniel Lantagne, 24, of Riverside, manned the mounted machine gun in the turret. He taped a picture of his girlfriend on the dashboard.

"I'm going home in seven days," he sang. Lantagne has a temporary leave coming up.

Sgt. Dan Evans, 47, a retired East Providence police officer who recently moved to Johnston, sat in the passenger seat.

In the two Humvees following behind were Seekonk's assistant public works director, Sgt. Chris Aylward of Barrington; a former security guard at The Providence Journal, Specialist Keith Schillan, of East Providence; a security guard from T.F. Green Airport, Specialist Dave Kelleher, of East Greenwich; and a medical assistant at a family clinic in South Attleboro, Specialist Alida Berganza, of Providence.

They're all members of the 119th Military Police Company, a Rhode Island National Guard unit, patrolling Iraq.

"Shots fired."

The radio came to life. Someone opened fire on a convoy ahead of them.

Mulholland yanked the steering wheel to the right and pulled off the highway onto a dirt road. The Humvee bounced over a sandy berm and climbed a hill, overlooking a levee filled with pea-green water. There are tan-colored sewer lines traversing the levee. None of them work. Mulholland suspected the gunman who fired on the convoy might be hiding there.

The Humvees stopped at the edge of a marsh, and the MPs got out of their vehicles to scan the reeds. Mulholland and Evans held M16s. Sargon, who would not give his last name for fear of reprisals against his family, clutched a pistol.

Raised in Iraq, Sargon moved to the United States. He works as an information-technology consultant in Chicago. He was hired by the military as an interpreter.

This is predominately Sunni Muslim territory in southern Baghdad -- a mixture of mostly cooperative citizens and a few determined Iraqi insurgents, the MPs said.

One soldier in each Humvee stayed in the turret, looking through binoculars and clutching their mounted machine guns.

Beyond the marsh, three Iraqis -- a woman, man and boy -- pulled up in a white Volkswagen Beetle. They got out with their hands up, a common practice for Iraqis who want to show they are friendly.

The team drove over to investigate. The Humvees stopped a few yards from the Beetle.

Mulholland waved at the Iraqis.

The Iraqis waved back.

The sergeant waved again.

Sargon translated. Had they seen anyone firing a gun? Had they seen anything suspicious?

The woman, her head wrapped in a checkered scarf, said she runs a school nearby. The man to her right is her only son, she said. He opened the back of his Beetle, showing it was clear.

"We know you live here, we know you are not a threat," Mulholland told them. "It's the people shooting at us."

The MPs returned to their Humvees. Sargon said the people put their hands up because they knew the MPs would approach them less aggressively and talk to them.

"Wise people," said Evans.

THE TEAM set out again, their Humvees bouncing over dirt roads, dotted with homes and cornfields. A white bird flew across their path. A cow grazed in a backyard.

A pair of Apache gunships whirled through the gray sky.

The Rhode Island MPs, as they comb supply routes for signs of trouble, have worked recently with the Apaches, which can provide surveillance and heavy fire power if needed.

"We are heading back from a refuel, do you need help?" the pilot radioed to the MPs.

Mulholland gladly accepted.

The MPs spotted tire tracks. A few yards ahead, they stopped a white Toyota pickup truck with two men inside.

Mulholland motioned with his hand out the window for the driver to stop. The truck kept rolling.

"Stop, stop," he yelled. The truck stopped. The young men got out. The MPs walked over, M16s pointed at the ground.

The Apaches chopped overhead.

Mulholland searched the front seat. The men told Sargon that they saw nothing suspicious.

Mulholland said the job of the MPs is not that different from police work at home. "We are tracking down criminals," he said.

He sees the Iraqi children waving at him and he wants to make them safe.

Mulholland said the situation is improving in Iraq. Schools are opening. New buildings are being built. "You can see the good things we are doing, it's not all for naught," he said.

"Ninety-five percent of the people in this country support what we are doing," said Mulholland. "There's that other five percent that don't."

TWO MAJOR supply routes under the watch of the 119th come together at an intersection, about a 15-minute drive from their headquarters at the airport. The MPs say it's one of the most dangerous places in Iraq.

Many vehicles access the highway by passing through a four-way stop. Vendors sell soda and nuts. There's a small white mosque with a blue and white prayer tower. It's a volatile combination, the MPs say.

The intersection acts as a choke point, slowing traffic and giving insurgents time to detonate an explosive.

The MPs said the insurgents use the mosque to spread information about passing convoys. The area is bounded by thick woods and farm fields, a perfect place in which to hide.

Burn marks appear like giant shadows in the roadway, each one marking the scene of an explosion. If you count the burn marks on the road, Evans said, "You are counting soldiers' lives."

The MPs have taken down some palm trees to eliminate hiding places near the intersection. But the blasts continue.

Mulholland drove through this area with his door slightly ajar and holding his M16.

Evans clutched his own machine gun. Lantagne scanned back and forth in the turret. The teams pulled off the highway and into the woods.

There are different dangers here. The U.S. bombing campaign scattered hundreds of cluster "bomblets" in these woods and the fig farms nearby. The 119th team has arranged to have explosives experts help remove them soon.

Sargon and the team went over to speak with one farmer, Qusai Khudiar, 19, walking barefoot through a thick grove of palm trees.

He said he's happy to cooperate with the MPs because they have said they will help him take away the unexploded bombs. He led the soldiers to a burned-out vehicle. The palm trees are scarred black. Insurgents like to hide here and fire rocket-propelled grenades. The Americans fire back.

When asked who he thought was attacking the Americans in this area, Khudiar just shook his head.

The MPs left the farm road and headed back on the highway to resume their patrol. They passed an Iraqi man pedaling a bicycle. One of his sleeves was tucked into his pants. He was missing an arm.

THE MPs had been in the passageway under the highway earlier that week. After an attack, two Iraqis had escaped a sweep by MPs and the Apache helicopters. The MPs figured the Iraqis got away through the passageway.

Mulholland disappeared into the hole.

His squad scanned the area. Sargon sat in the dirt, whistling at two wild dogs. A herd of sheep wandered near the overpass.

Boom.

An explosion came from inside the passageway. Evans, of Johnston, and Sargon ran to the entrance.

There were no sounds from Mulholland. The other MPs scrambled to get inside to help. Then a yell echoed through the tunnel.

Mulholland jumped to the ground. He stripped off his flak vest, looking for wounds. Sweat drenched his uniform. He was uninjured.

When he cut the wire, he explained, he had set off an explosion inside the passageway.

The Army explosives team arrived. The expert, Staff Sgt. Ben Sutton, took a last drag of his cigarette, stamped it out and climbed up into the passageway with a flashlight.

He affixed a grappling hook to a gun and fired it into the darkness. He pulled on the string and dragged the grappling hook along the bottom of the passageway.

Another explosion.

Mulholland joined the explosives expert inside the passageway. This is my area, he said, we need to clear it.

They walked slowly into the narrowing space, until their flashlights disappeared out of sight. The passageway stretched for a mile.

While they searched, a boy who sells soda along the highway told Sargon he saw a man climb into the hole recently. A few days later, two men went in, the boy said.

The MPs figured the insurgents might have seen the U.S. soldiers searching the space and had set a trap for their return.

Mulholland and the explosives expert returned from their sweep. They found nothing else in their mile-long search.

Mulholland and his team -- Evans, Lantagne and Sargon -- drove off into the pink haze over Baghdad. The sky turned gray and then black. For most of the ride, the men were silent.

DIGITAL EXTRA: See more photos of Rhode Island National Guard military police units in Iraq and Kuwait, post messages to the troops, recap previous Michael Corkery reports and more at:

http://projo.com/extra/2003/iraq/