Interpreter dodges bullets, befriends Marines
by Darrin Mortenson
nctimes.com
FALLUJAH, Iraq - Ehaeb barely flinched Saturday when the rifles crackled nearby.
As an interpreter for American forces in Iraq for the last five months, he says he has grown used to gunfire and recognized the shots as coming from American weapons.
So, as the close crackle of gunfire continued, Ehaeb remained comfortably tucked into a soft chair in the living room of an Iraqi home reading an Arabic novel he found there when he and a squad of Marines took over the house during the heavy fighting in Fallujah last week.
When another shot rang out, however, this one sounding louder and sharper but just as near as the first volley, Ehaeb furrowed his brow and jerked to his feet.
"That's AK," he said, identifying the distinctive crack from a Kalishnakov assault rifle ---- the preferred weapon of the Iraqi insurgents.
He rushed upstairs to investigate.
Ehaeb ---- whom the troops call "Johnny Five" after a curious robot character in the movie "Short Circuit" ---- is a native of Baghdad and a best friend to Marines fighting in Fallujah.
Because his language skills are needed on every patrol and during every operation to communicate with locals, the 22-year old computer science graduate has seen probably more combat than most of the saltiest of the Marine grunts he walks with.
"It's very dangerous, yes," said the quiet, dark and handsome Iraqi Shiite who calls all the Marines "sir."
"It's dangerous for me because I am all the time going on patrols with Marines, but I have no weapon," he explained. "It is all the time RPG, bullets, AK ---- it's crazy!"
Ehaeb first started working with Army infantrymen from the 10th Mountain Division near Diwaniyah five months ago, and then hitched up with 82nd Airborne Division paratroopers for duty in probably the most dangerous city in Iraq: Fallujah.
"At first I did it for money"' he said, explaining that he and seven of his college buddies hired on as "terps" to make quick cash from the Americans with the English language skills that they learned in the state education system at the University of Baghdad.
"Now I just want to fix Fallujah," he said with a smile and an open palm.
"Yes. I want to fix my country. I want to one day live in a place here in safety. I want my sisters and brother to live like that."
Ehaeb said that his father was once an engineer in south Baghdad. But Iraq's economic collapse ---- after a decade of war with neighboring Iran in the 1980s, the devastation of the American bombing during the 1991 Gulf War and more than a decade of sanctions since then ---- his father was forced to climb behind the wheel of a taxi cab to make ends meet.
"I don't even like to talk about my father," he said. "From an engineer to a cab driver: That's what you get under Saddam Hussein."
Ever since Marines first established a massive cordon around Fallujah nearly two weeks ago, Ehaeb or "Johnny Five" has been at their side. The cordon was designed to lay siege on the city, let the civilians out and leave only insurgents penned up for a final sweep.
Ehaeb's also been there for the horseplay and boredom that are as much a part of war as the fighting.
And on Saturday, as troops relaxed during the sporadic fighting that continues under a quasi-ceasefire, "Johnny Five" deepened his friendship with the Marines by treating some of the troops to a minor feast.
He took to the kitchen after Lance Cpl. Ayron Kull, 21, of Nyles, Mich., managed to catch one of the dozens of chickens that run wild in the streets of this lawless and deserted section of Fallujah within the cordon.
Saying he knew what to do by watching his mother cook in the house that he grew up in Baghdad, Ehaeb killed the captured fowl, plucked it and prepared it, fried and seasoned, along side some tasty potatoes and rice served up on a huge tin tray on the living room floor --- Iraqi style.
"Mmmm! Better than an MRE," Kull said, tasting his catch, which was a little tough, but understandably so, as only the fastest, toughest birds have escaped the wild dogs that roam the northwest Fallujah ghetto. "Yep. Beats the hell out of an MRE."
After dinner, Ehaeb made Ghie tea from one of the several 50-pound bags of the stuff the family left behind when they fled the fighting.
Spooning sugar into the bottom of tiny teacups, he handed out samples of the hot syrupy treat to a few Marines.
"You definitely earn your keep around here, Johnny," said Navy Corpsman Michael Meaney, 22, of Houston, after taking it all in.
Ehaeb said that after working with the Army for almost four months in Fallujah, he enjoys the Marines' company and prefers their hard-nosed approach to the insurgents.
The Army went on patrols, captured insurgent leaders and worked political angles, but always returned to their base outside of town, he said.
But the Marines, he said, charged right in and started killing insurgents and taking over the town.
"They just came and attacked the terrorists," he said.
"We took over this house. They're going to take over Fallujah. It's cool!" he said, using one of the words he has adopted from his American friends.
Before he got up to do the dishes for the Marines, Ehaeb said he wants to keep working with the U.S. military "until the terrorists are gone."
Then, he said, he wants to marry his 18-year-old half-Swedish second cousin in Stockholm "and just kick back ----- relax." |
