Chronicle Article on 1/14 Marines

Reservists answer call to hot zone

John Koopman, Chronicle Staff Writer
Sunday, March 5, 2006

While American military units have shuffled in and out of Iraq for the past three years, a Marine reserve unit headquartered in Alameda has sat quietly by, waiting to be sent into the fray.
Until now.

The men and women of the 1st Battalion, 14th Marine Regiment were called to active duty in December and are awaiting a trip to the restless Anbar province, home to Fallujah, Ramadi and the wild west region bordering Syria. They'll leave in the next couple of weeks.

Meantime, they live in the Mojave Desert and train almost constantly for their new mission.
"This will be the first deployment for most of our Marines," said battalion Sgt. Maj. Enrique Borgzinner. "We've always known we'd get the call, so it didn't really come as a shock to anyone. If you've been in the military since 9/11, you know you're going to have to go overseas."

The battalion consists of about 1,000 Marines and sailors. They come from all over the United States, but their headquarters is in Alameda, and many of the Marines come from the Bay Area. Borgzinner is a correctional officer for Santa Clara County, for example, and many of the reservists work as police officers, firefighters or medics.

It's a tough time to get the call for duty in Iraq. Sectarian violence has been flaring between Shiite and Sunni Muslims, causing fears of a broader civil war. Amid all of this, suicide bombings, roadside bombs and the occasional insurgent attacks on American bases or convoys are still occurring.

Still, the mood among the Marines training in Twentynine Palms (San Bernardino County) is remarkably upbeat -- at least by civilian standards.

Sgt. Jonathon Ginn, an active-duty Marine assigned to the reserve battalion, said most people in the military have a strong sense of duty. And they try not to question whether the conflict is right or wrong.

"I think we all joined to serve our country," he said. "Beyond that, we want to help people. Everyone is a product of his or her environment, and we're no different. I don't know why we're that way, but we are.

"For me, it's all about helping your fellow man. I want to give the Iraqi people a chance to live in peace, to have what I have. It's as simple as that."

Ginn wasn't the only one to express that opinion. Everywhere, Marines in high-and-tight haircuts and digital camouflage uniforms shrugged when asked about their mission.
"I'm looking forward to it," said Sgt. Joe Duran of the Kern County town of Tehachapi. "I'm good to go."

Some Marines expressed concern over the violence in Iraq. Concern for their families and how those at home will worry. Concern for their fellow Marines. Concern about whether they will be able to do their jobs and not let anyone down.

But there's little time to reflect on these things. The Marines put the reservist through a punishing training schedule at Twentynine Palms. With deployment imminent, they have been working among the rocks, sand and lizards north of the base through a schedule known as "Mojave Viper."

Mojave Viper attempts to replicate daily life for a battalion that is based near an Iraqi village and is responsible for its security. The Marines have built two fake villages out of metal shipping containers. Iraqi Americans and others of Arab descent are hired to play the parts of villagers and shopkeepers. One village is Sunni and the other Shiite. Iraqis play the part of the mayors and police chiefs. Another takes on the role of mosque imam, and a loudspeaker sounds the call to prayer five times a day. Just like in Iraq.

Combat-veteran Marines, playing insurgents, set up improvised explosive devices in and among the fake homes and snipe at the Marines as they patrol the area. The reservists have to learn how to communicate in a potentially hostile environment and how to deal with village officials, attend meetings and make use of their people skills.

Afaf Daoud plays the village shopkeeper and schoolteacher. She's Catholic, originally from Basra in southern Iraq, and she's had the job for more than a year. "I want to help the Marines and help my people stay alive," she said. "I have family still there, and I worry about them a lot."
Dler, a Baghdadi, and Salim Al Jumaaily, a Kurd, also play shopkeepers. They said they spend most of their time teaching the Marines about Arab culture and language.

"For example, you must learn about gestures," said Dler, who uses just one name. "If you make a slashing motion on your throat, it means in the U.S. to stop, but in Iraq it means to behead."
The training culminates with a 72-hour exercise in which insurgents launch an attack against the American forces, and the Marines have to figure out how to successfully quell it.

Nerve-wracking as it may be to go to what is now the most dangerous place on Earth, that feeling is compounded by the fact that most of the Marines in the battalion won't be doing the jobs they were originally trained to do. This is an artillery unit, and most of the Marines were trained to fire the big guns. They're known as "cannon-cockers." But there is little use for artillery in present-day Iraq, so most of the Marines have been cross-trained as military police. They will patrol cities and military bases, as well as help run detention centers.

But it's important work, said Lt. Col. Rob Roslawski, the battalion's commanding officer, considering the well-publicized abuses at the Abu Ghraib prison.
Roslawski said his men have been learning their new skills for more than a year. He said learning security work is not a huge stretch, since it incorporates many of the skills they learned as basic Marines.

"They also understand this is a high-visibility job," he said. "They know they're going to have to make the right decisions at the right time or there can be serious repercussions."
Maybe it's a Marine thing and maybe it's a public safety mind-set, but there are many stories of Marines who actively sought to join 1/14 after learning that the battalion was headed to Iraq.
Cpl. Bret Reed joined the Marines in 1993 right after graduating from Terra Linda High School in San Rafael. For four years, he was a hard-charging machine gunner. Then he got out and tried his hand at firefighting, eventually landing a job with the Larkspur department.

Last fall, after being out for nine years, the rangy 6-foot-4-inch Reed rejoined the Corps so he could go to Iraq. "In 2003, I had this real strong feeling that I wished I was with my old unit," he said. "I felt left out a little. As the war went on, it was painful not to be a part of it. It affected my mood. I snapped at people a lot. "It came to me one day that I need to be a part of this and step up for my country."

Reed had some trouble dealing with the reserve Marines. They're not as hard-core and hard-charging as his old infantry unit, the 3rd Battalion, 7th Marines. But he felt his infantry background would help the other guys in training and in the real thing in Iraq. He volunteered for one of the more dangerous and difficult duties, serving with the Personal Security Detachment, the Marines who protect generals and Iraqi officials, and serve as a rapid response force for any combat activity. "It's the kind of job where you really have to have your head and ass wired together," he said.

A lot of the Marines on security detachment work in public safety. Reed's buddy, Cpl. Eddie Zamora is a 35-year-old correctional officer from San Jose who works with the sergeant major at the Santa Clara County Jail. Zamora was out of the corps for 13 years before rejoining for this expedition. The toughest thing for Zamora is leaving his 11-year-old son, Alexander, behind.
"I feel terrible about that," Zamora said. "He's my pride and joy, and he needs a father figure. I do pretty well over the phone, but I want to get back to him as soon as I can."

Sgt. Alejandro Ortiz, a 29-year-old San Jose police officer, was out for two years, and he, too, joined the reserve unit so he could go to Iraq. "I think I've got the leadership and training to help keep these guys alive," Ortiz said. "At the San Jose PD, we do more in one day than most people see in a lifetime, so it's not exactly new to me."

Then there's Staff Sgt. Arnold Borgen, a San Francisco police officer. He had been working out of the Bayview Station. He said he's not all that worried about the violence in Iraq after having worked the tough streets of San Francisco. "I know an officer who was with the Army over there, and when he got back, he said he felt safer in Iraq," Borgen said. "In Iraq, if you get in trouble, you can call in air support. Can't do that if you're a cop."

At 40, Borgen is one of the older guys in the unit. And his pals rib him for it. Ortiz wondered if Borgen would be issued a Marine Corps walker for foot patrols. Reed suggested he get a "Little Rascal" personal scooter. "Get a little armor on it and you're good to go," he joked. "They say those things will go anywhere you want to go."