The plan only had one hitch. The small patrol base is located in an area known for sectarian violence. The north side of the main highway is Sunni, and the south is Shiite. The two groups exchange gun-fire regularly along the highway leading to the base, and the base is located directly between the two rivals. We were advised to identify our targets before firing as they might not be shooting at us. Personally, the idea of an individual firing a weapon anywhere near me is to say the least, unappealing. Add to that the fact that I cannot shoot back until I see him firing at me!? Thats just not fair at all, but its the nature of our fight here.

Fortunately the mission was relatively uneventful. Unlike other routes in our area, the route we took to the patrol base was IED free. I say 'was' because two days after our mission several IED strikes were reported in the area.

Apparently Assein advertised a bit because suddenly there were seven children on the barracade. The kids asked us for MRE's which we had, but we cannot give them out anymore. The enemy uses them to hide IED's. Instead, we handed out frosted flakes and beef jerky. The guys also exchanged American currency for what little Iraqi money the kids had. This thrilled us and the kids. The children were happy because our money is worth a hundred times more than theirs, and our guys had souveniers. It was a good trade.

The bartering ended, and we just talked to the kids awhile. The oldest of the group was a thirteen year old girl. I am not certain, but I believe she was an older sister to one of the smaller kids. She never really spoke to us, but simply smiled sweetly and watched. She wore no veil.

One of the boys asked me if I was "shi". To which I replied "what is shi?" The little guy was asking if I was Shiite or Sunni. Laughing, I told him "buddy, I'm from Alabama." He replied "Abaama? very good, Americii very good, Sunni no good." The nine year old boy was Shiite, and already hated the Sunni.

Two of the little girls were sisters. Their names were Xana and Nuura. Xana is ten and Nuura is five. Xana wore a veil, but while speaking to us she would take it off. When vehicles approached she would wrap her face quickly, grab her younger sister, and run across the street to hide. Once the car was safely past the girls would return. I asked Xana why she ran, but I don't think she undertood the question as she did not answer. When I asked about the veil she completely removed it, defiantly raised her chin with a sarcastic smile, and said "no good, veil no good." Her eyes were green, her smile was beautiful, and she had attitude to match her good looks. In the states she would be a heartbreaker in the making.

Despite the hardships of this war the children were happy. The guys and I played thumb-war with them through the razor-wire, and taught them American handshakes.We talked and played with them until curfue when they had to leave. It was a pleasant experience I will never forget.

After leaving the patrol base we headed back to Camp Taji. Upon our return we dismounted and began to talk. On the way back we all noticed one small event. An Iraqi father about thirty years old walking with his baby son, and holding his hand. I only mention it because it was such an unusual thing to see here. We see babies three and four years old on the side of the highways unattended regularly. They just sit in the dirt and watch us pass. Its a sight that just hurts the heart. On the other hand, seeing that father holding his son's hand made us all feel good.

Playing with those children, and seeing that father with his son was like a little ray of hope. Through all the despair and violence its hard to see if we really are making a difference here. Now I see that maybe we are. Hopefully, the sacrifices we have made have not been in vain, and one day these children we met will understand what we've done for them.