KIRKUK, Iraq — Sgt. Troy Ezernack thought he’d heard
it all from locals trying to gain access to the
government building in downtown Kirkuk.
“They say they know where bombs are hidden, or where
high-level Baath Party members are, or they know where
chemical weapons are,” said the 37-year-old team leader
assigned to the 173rd Airborne Brigade from Vicenza,
Italy.
But the one that made him laugh out loud was this
one: “There was one guy who said he had the cure for
AIDS,” Ezernack said. “I knew he didn’t have the cure
for AIDS.”
That laughter, although brief, helped break up the
doldrums that has become synonymous with pulling the
hourlong security duty six times a day at the civic
center — often in the baking, 100-plus degree heat.
Daily, locals come in droves to the two-story white
stucco building that will house the new interim
30-member provincial council elected Saturday. Some to
conduct legitimate business such as applying for jobs or
to get permits to carry weapons. Others to get a peek at
the building that for decades had been off limits to
anyone who didn’t serve in the Baath Party under the
reign of Iraqi President Saddam Hussein.
The soldiers say the job is important, but if they
had a choice, they’d be elsewhere.
“It’s hot and boring and a pain in the neck,” said
Sgt. Ted Condit, 26, also with the 173rd, which now
falls under command of the Army’s 4th Infantry
Division.
“I argue with people and tell them to move back or to
stand in line, but they don’t understand and try to rush
in,” said Condit, a Brooklyn native.
Giahad Qader, 40, said through an interpreter he
isn’t pleased soldiers bar his entrance to a municipal
building he says should be open to the public, even if
the streets of Kirkuk are not yet totally safe.
“This is not good. This is not the proper way for
this,” Qader said. “This is not a military building.
This is a civic place, and we don’t need all this
procedure.”
Catty-cornered to the entrance gate, Sgt. Nick
Dutter, with the 4th ID, tries to find ways to make it
through his three-hour shifts as he sits atop a M1A2
Abrams tank.
“I spend most of my time thinking about home,” said
the 20-year-old tank gunner from Worcester, Mass.
He and his teammate Pfc. Herman Johnson, 21, say they
know “way too much” about each other, and the teasing
begins. Actually, Dutter did most of the teasing,
pointing out Johnson’s tendency to trip and the way he
goes on about his fiancée, who is serving with the 4th
ID in Tikrit as a cook.
The highlights of the soldiers’ security details tend
to be interactions with the children of Kirkuk, who also
flock to the center. Except they come to gawk at the
soldiers or ask about pop singer Michael Jackson.
“They say their name is Michael Jackson or ask about
Michael Jackson,” said Pvt. Ernesto Perez, 20, with the
173rd.
And try as they might, the soldiers can’t remember
all the children’s names — so the little ones are simply
called “Charlie.”
In the beginning, the invading soldiers terrified
7-year-old Ayad Saddam. “Yes, at first I was afraid. But
now I know they will not hurt me,” he said through an
interpreter as he loitered near shoulder-high dirt
barriers mostly topped with concertina wire.
Many of the soldiers are unhappy pulling guard duty.
“I feel like I’m military police,” Perez said. “I’m
not made for this. I’m playing guard. But I’m infantry.
I was trained to kill.”
Some days the doldrums can suddenly switch to the
fever pitch felt in the heat of battle. Recently, a
soldier with the 173rd was shot and wounded while on
night patrol in Kirkuk.
Such is a day in the life of a soldier in a combat
zone, Ezernack said.
“Sometimes, it gets pretty hairy out there,” he said.
“Other days, I just dip my Copenhagen and wait for the
time to pass
by.”
