UMM QASR, Iraq, 5 April 2003 — The problem today is that the hospital needs water. “He gave me his word,’’ Capt. Jim Becker, of the Army Reserves’ 402nd Civil Affairs Battalion, is saying of an Iraqi man who was hired to deliver water around town. “He said that last night he would go to the hospital and fill up its tanks. But he did not.’’
It is morning in Umm Qasr, population 30,000, the only city in Iraq said to be under full control of US and British forces. But problems continue: daily explosions from Iraqi artillery in Basra and missiles in the Faw Peninsula; occasional firefights in the streets; and water. Three days ago, the emergency room doctor splashed water on his hands and face after seeing a patient, and that was the end of it at the hospital.
With Baghdad facing attack, the delivery of one tanker truck of water to one hospital may seem a small step. But it is an indicator of what is to come.
“I think the mood here is decidedly better than it has been,’’ Becker says as his Humvee moves away from the site where the 402nd is encamped, a onetime hotel that has been stripped by looters of every bed, chair, sink, toilet, light, light switch, wall plug and circuit breaker. “More people smiling. Less people yelling,’’ he said.
“People are moving around more. Kids are out playing. Young females have begun coming out of their houses,’’ says Sgt. Randy Beutel, the driver, who is steering his way past dozens of children running in bare feet toward the Humvee, waving and yelling the word “mister.’’
“This is what I love. Kids happy,’’ Beutel says. “Mister,’’ they keep calling. “They all want something,’’ Beutel explains.
The plastic windows of the Humvees are unzipped. Only a few days ago, that wouldn’t have happened. Umm Qasr was thirsty. People were panicking. Whenever a water tanker was spotted coming toward town, people would come running, with men pushing aside anyone in their way, even the black-robed matriarchs of Umm Qasr and the dust-covered small girls. Then came the completion of a pipeline extended from northern Kuwait into the UN compound on the Iraqi side of the border, and the donation by Kuwait of up to 1.5 million liters of drinkable water a day, and bit by bit, Umm Qasr has been calming down.
That pipeline is where Becker and Beutel are headed. They need to find a driver who will take his load of water to the hospital rather than sell it to people in town. “If we find a tanker who’s cooperative and nice and goes to the hospital without any guff, give him a pack of smokes,’’ says Becker, a reservist.
“Yes sir,’’ says Beutel, who travels with a list in his vest pocket of how to say certain things in Arabic.
They pass a portrait of Saddam Hussein, in tiles and enter an armed compound where a tanker driver is awaiting his turn at the water pipeline. They approach the driver with their interpreter, named Ahmed. He explains the proposed deal to the driver, who thinks about it before answering.
“He says he wants you to know that after he goes to the hospital, he will save a little bit for his own family,’’ Ahmed says to Becker.
“No problem,’’ says Becker.
“He’s also complaining that people have knives. Big knives. They want to hurt him because he asks for money. They threaten his life.’’
“Tell him I’ll talk to my boss and we’ll see what we can do,’’ Becker says. “Tell him if he fears for his safety, drive away. I don’t want him to be put in danger.’’
“He says when he tries to do that, they stand in front of his truck,’’ Ahmed says after telling the driver what Becker said. “With their knives.’’
“Well, I’ll see what I can do about that,’’ Becker says, and with that the deal is struck. Ahmed the driver brings his truck under the pipeline, and with the push of a valve, water begins flowing into the truck’s tank, great gushes of clear water.
Back in the Humvee, Becker takes a long drink from his canteen as he and Beutel follow the tanker to the hospital. “We keep telling the truck drivers they need to fill the hospital,’’ Becker says. “The problem is, people have been coming to the hospital and stealing the water.’’
“Mister! Mister!’’ yells a boy riding a bicycle that has two empty containers for water dangling from the handlebars and one strapped to the back fender.
Water is leaking out of a back pipe with a slightly opened valve, and now the water is spraying across the road and forming every so often into rainbows, and now the truck is entering a parking area and Becker is ordering, “Close the gate! Close the gate!’’
The gate begins to close. People come running up with empty containers.
They have arrived at the hospital.
The head doctor, Mohammed Mansoury, sees the truck and breaks into the smallest of smiles. “There is no water for four days,’’ he explains, as a hose is run from the truck to a 1,000-liter water tank on the roof. “And we need water for everything. Washing. Cleaning. You know, it’s a hospital.’’
The crowd is now 50 people as one end of a hose is attached to the truck’s leaking pipe and the other is handed up to a doctor on the roof, next to the water tank. A valve is loosened. The hose thickens. The water tank on the roof begins to fill, while on the ground, a man catches enough runoff from the end of the hose attached to the truck to throw into his mouth and brush around with a dirty forefinger.
