Moon Dust | Generation Kill

Chapter 9: Unsurrender

When Katie had been woken up for her shift on watch, the Iraqi citizens had already began pouring in from God know's where. They didn't say anything to the marines, they simply just kept walking down the train tracks, many of them limping from the pain in their feet from having walked so far.

By the time the sun had risen in the morning, the crowd of gathered Iraqis had nearly tripled, and by that point, the men were ushering the civilians towards the humvees where they could be searched and interrogated.

 With Whiskey on a tight leash, Katie walked around to the groups of standing and sitting men, inspecting each and every one of them. "All clear over here," Katie announced as she moved onto the next six or seven Iraqis. 

Grabbing a water bottle off of one of the men, Poke gave it a shake, the odd sound immediately tipping him off. "Brad," Poke called the Sergeant over before waving for Katie. "Get the dog to search him."

Opening the bottle and dumping out the water, Poke gave the container a few shakes before a knife fell out into his hand. "Prison rules, Dawg, just like LA." Poke shook his head at the man who had been stashing away the blade.

Bringing Whiskey up to the man, Katie pointed at him. "Seek," she ordered, to which Whiskey responded by moving in a circle around the Iraqi, smelling him up and down. "The rest of him is clean," Katie concluded when Whiskey didn't give off any signs. 

Grabbing her own water bottle from her pack, Katie walked over to where Meesh, the battalion translator, and Nate were standing with one of the civilians. "They are just civilians fleeing Basra," Meesh translated. "They are grateful to be liberated by the Americans."

"That checks out." Katie took a sip of her water before offering some to Whiskey. "We haven't found anything that suggests any military alliance. Besides a few petty weapons, they seem to be unarmed." 

Walking past, Brad stopped in his tracks and looked the civilian up and down. "What manner of belt does this gentleman appear to have donned?"

Stepping up, Poke unbuckled the belt from around the man's waist and pulled it off. "Military issue, Dawg." He pulled out his knife and cut open a sewn-in pocket on the inside of the belt. Pulling out a folded piece of paper, Poke handed it over to Brad. 

Brad inspected the paper for a moment before giving it to Nate. "Sir, this is Republican Guard."

As Nate unfolded the page, Garza walked over with a hand full of tiny hot sauce bottles. "Sergeant, somebody down the line already gave these guys MREs."

As the Iraqi civilians started to become restless, their hands in the air and their voices getting louder, Poke and a few of the others parted ways to settle the riled up men. Many of the citizens were holding out what looked like little cards or something, but Katie had no idea what they were for. 

Taking one of the cards, Nate took one look at it and huffed. "This is the shit psy-ops dropped on Iraqi Forces, promising safe passage to any who surrender to the Americans."

With the group having quieted down, one of the men took the opportunity to speak up. "He says thirty kilometers East of here on a bridge by the canal, there are Iraqi military death squads that are executing Iraqi soldiers who flee," Meesh translated. "The death squad dudes are in white SUVs with red diamonds on them. They are Fedayeen. They are loyal to Saddam."

Shaking his head, Brad looked down at Katie and held up the military belt in his hand. "No military alliance, huh?" he questioned.

Katie rolled her eyes, not in the mood to deal with Brad and his condescending ways at the moment. "I meant more along the lines of explosives or AKs, not belts."