Girls only in the Lioness den

Photo By Lance Cpl. Cindy Alejandrez | Cpl. Nicole K. Estrada, a 21-year-old from Rancho Cucamonga, Calif., received a kiss or "bosa" from a local boy in Rutbah, Iraq. During her time as a Lioness, Estrada befriended local women and practiced Arabic with some when they passed the traffic control point.  

IRAQ

04.15.2008

Story by Lance Cpl. Cindy Alejandrez 

1st Marine Logistics Group

By Lance Cpl. Cindy G. Alejandrez
1st Marine Logistics Group

RUTBAH, Iraq – The local women normally wore conservative black burkas, had a smell of dough clinging to them and carried relaxed attitudes when approaching the search area. The majority of the women knew more about my post than I did.

Before arriving at Rutbah, I expected to see conflict and was ready to use my training in such a situation.

After my first day on post as a Lioness in a traffic control point near Rutbah, I realized some of the search techniques may have needed to be reevaluated. The training with Regimental Combat Team 5 prepared us to deal with confrontations but I didn't see any at all in sight.

We had no reason to be excessively aggressive and I certainly didn't see myself using restraint techniques in the near future.

I was surprised by the kindness a lot of these women showed, how comfortable some kids were around us, and how important our language classes really were. They all warmed up to us very quickly and soon started to offer us candy and snacks. One woman went as far as giving my partner, a communications Marine, a bottle of body spray.

They had become accustomed to the requirements at the search point and tried to make the process speedy by showing they meant no harm. Despite their cooperation and friendliness, we studied the bulks and folds in their clothes to determine if there was a threat.

Things felt a lot safer with crowds of children around the "Lioness den" or female search area. The atmosphere changes when there are kids around. Although they bothered me when they asked for candy we didn't have, I felt more at ease when they were around.

Another thing I noticed about the women was that most claimed to be sick or they had babies with some kind of ailment.

"Oni muu doctour madam," is all I could say, which means "I am not a doctor."

We also wanted to avoid the impression that we had handouts. Whenever we gave someone an extra water bottle, everybody else wanted one too. They asked for the water bottle I brought out for myself. Most didn't understand that we weren't there to provide assistance, but to do a serious job. It was a hot desert and I didn't enjoy a dry throat either.

I was relieved that overall, the majority of the women were pleasant. Despite the relaxed atmosphere most women carried, we realized it was important to put friendliness aside and focus on the possibility of a threat. We had to search every woman, every time.

According to a report by the Washington Post, suicide bombers conducted 658 attacks around the world last year, including 542 in Afghanistan and Iraq.

As of mid-March, the count for female suicide bombers in Iraq since the beginning of the war was 18. Seven of which attacked this year, according to the Washington Times.

Some of the women may have complained but the inconvenience of stepping out of their vehicle at the inspection area was small compared to the devastation a suicide bomb would cause for us and the locals.

A tall, older woman I was searching one afternoon started to cry as I patted her. I thought she was sick and asked her what was wrong. She was in pain over a baby she kept mentioning.

I called over the interpreter and resumed with my job. My partner figured things out while I searched the remaining women.

She walked back with eyes wide open and a disturbed look on her face. The woman had broken into tears because a month previously her boy's legs were blown off by an improvised explosive device.

My insides twisted and tangled. I realized the best way to repay the friendliness of the women was by doing my job. I didn't share a hug with her and now I regret it.

I never saw her again.

• Date Taken: 04.15.2008
• Date Posted: 05.02.2008 12:18
• Story ID: 19042
• Location: IQ