As our patrol moved into the wide intersection our vehicles suddenly shifted from a slithering column into a multiheaded hydra. Each driver smoothly wheeled their vehicle into their respective clock position, and as the HMMWVs inched into position it almost looked like each respective head was carefully sniffing the intersections periphery. Once they had settled into their blocking positions the turrets rotated into overwatch positions and the dismounts spilled out. In less then a minute the dismounts had cleared the area and were fanning out to reinforce the blocking positions with Arabic warning signs and over size traffic cones. The two traffic cones set up on our corridor gave the impression the asphalt was teething, they seemed to erupt out of the street like two fluorescent fangs. In many ways these simple plastic cones were far more lethal then any tool in nature’s arsenal. Their lethality didn’t come from their composition as much as their symbology, because in Baghdad traffic cones in front of HMMWVs convey only one message. Stop or be shot. Any vehicle that ignored the warning signs and tried to blow through the traffic cones would be identified as a lethal threat… and dealt with accordingly.
For a long while the cones stood desolate in the road, but as the afternoon slid by traffic started picking up. By late afternoon the road was cluttered with drivers trying to perform sloppy three point turns on the narrow lane. Although the road was blocked to wheeled traffic we still allowed locals to walk through the checkpoint, and that was where the excitement started.
As the local school children returned home from their classes they trickled down the dirt shoulders, careful to avoid the frustrated eddies of vehicles. But as they passed the traffic cones they started to spill onto the vacant road, oblivious to the fact that they were wandering into our line of fire. As soon as they started spreading out onto the empty asphalt we would get their attention and wave them towards the sides of the road. For a while that worked perfectly, but after most of the children had passed through one small trio of school kids continued on oblivious to our distant shouts. They weren't trying to be obstinate, they were just kids lost in their own private world. By time they were halfway between the cones and our HMMWV we had given up trying to get their attention, and I found myself bemusedly watching the two brothers compete for their sisters attention.
SPC Spartan’s sudden shout snapped me out of my silent observation and the edge to his voice let me know the message before the words left his mouth. He shouted “Sir – someone is trying to push through”. I reflexively tracked the speeding vehicle and shouldered my weapon, but as I did so the children finally broke out of their reverie and came to a sudden stop. Fear is a powerful tranquilizer and one sideways glance made it clear they were functionally paralyzed. I sprinted a dozen steps to where they were standing and pushed them out of the line of fire, and then skidded aside myself. Before my kneepads had finished scraping along the asphalt my muzzle was lined up to take a warning shot. But in that instant some glimmer of understanding finally made it through the drivers alcoholic stupor and the driver brought his car to a screeching halt.. As soon as the vehicle stopped the driver slammed his car into reverse, practically rolling the vehicle into a ditch in his haste to back away from the traffic cones. I tracked his vehicle with my weapon until his car had completed its U-turn, and then stood up and walked over to where the children were crouched. I helped them back onto their feet and took a minute to pick up their spilled books.. Their drawn faces were still awash in residual shock and fear, so I motioned them to follow me and walked them towards the HMMWV. As they waited next to the vehicle I reached into the cargo area and fished out a couple handfuls of candy and a stuffed animal. As I passed out the small presents their confused expressions melted away, replaced by wide eyed smiles. It wasn't a gradual change, it was like watching the sun break through the clouds after a long storm. SGT Bard stopped to snap a picture of their beaming smiles and then they were off like a shot, happily chirping to each another. The rest of the time slid by without anything of note, and a few hours later we were back on the FOB. Another day down.
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