Ready for Worst--but It’s Not Beirut : Reception: ‘They’re so friendly,’ Pendleton Marine says of warm welcome from Somalis in the capital.

Within minutes of storming ashore here Wednesday in the first wave of American troops, Lance Cpl. Bryan Blain and his revved-up unit parked their armored vehicle on a rutted road outside the airport, set up a roadblock and came face to face with the reality of Africa.

After an hour, the Marines had confiscated more than a dozen AK-47 assault rifles and other weapons and backed up traffic for miles. Sweat streaming down their faces in the tropical sunshine, they managed wan smiles when, in the custom of Africa, hundreds of Somalis crowded around, quietly, politely observing the beefy young visitors from Camp Pendleton who had suddenly materialized from the sea and the sky.

“We were prepared for the worst, and I was expecting a Beirut,” said Blain, a 22-year-old from Salem, Ore. “But they’re so friendly, so receptive to us.

“They’re teaching me to say ‘get back’ in Somali,” he said, demonstrating by shouting “ Lalo- back, lalo- back” to a smiling crowd that obediently retreated a few steps. “We came expecting the worst and fortunately got the best,” he added.

More than 1,000 Marines and hundreds of armored vehicles and Humvees streamed into Mogadishu on Wednesday, arriving in a show of huge force from ships in the Indian Ocean and later by huge transport jets. Prepared for resistance in this lawless, famine-beset land, the gung-ho youngsters instead got, for the most part, a warm African welcome.

The result was a curious kind of cultural exchange.

“We welcome them with open hands,” said Abdi Shakur, a 20-year-old Somali, in broken English as he looked admiringly at a flak-jacketed Marine carrying an M-16.

“Open arms,” corrected his friend, Adan Mohammed. “We welcome them with open arms.”

Around the airport, at nearby roadblocks and in their late-afternoon retaking of the old U.S. Embassy, the troops were greeted by applause, thumbs-up signs and what appeared to be a heartfelt welcome.

“The people seem genuinely friendly,” said Sgt. Stacy Bowen, 28, of Hanford, Calif. But, he added, “I think when they see us, they are thinking of relief supplies.”

The Marines drew huge numbers of Somali spectators in addition to the usual thousands of pedestrians endemic to any African city. And the results were sometimes comical. At the airport, Marine air traffic controllers used helicopters to buzz the airstrip to chase away Somalis who were blocking incoming traffic. Ordered to go to the airfield to move the onlookers, an exasperated Marine sergeant complained: “I can tell you right now, sir. It’s not like you’ve got Americans down there. They don’t even care if they get injured by a landing jet.”

Many of the Marines were on edge, having been told that the streets were full of “technicals” and “Mad Maxes”--the pickups carrying bands of young bandits and mercenaries.

At one roadblock early Wednesday, a “Mad Max” came tooling down the highway with a mounted .50-caliber gun big enough to pierce armor. Spotting a dozen Marines in helmets, flak jackets and carrying M-16 rifles, the pickup screeched to a halt--and reversed at top speed.

“We were going to open fire, but we figured, ‘They didn’t fire on us, so why bother?’ ” said Lance Cpl. Andy Harrison, 21.

The mission began on a sour note, suggesting that the Marines were not at first prepared for the docile response received. Minutes after the first armored assault vehicles pushed ashore, young Marines, pumped up for the operation, stormed the hangars and ratty buildings at the airport, screaming to any shadow that moved: “Get down! Get down!”

They stumbled upon six dazed Somali airport workers, whom they awakened from their sleep in a hangar. Not knowing that the workers were employees of the Pakistani force that had been guarding the site under the U.N. flag, the troops barked commands: “Hey! Lay down! Spread your arms!”

The workers were handcuffed with plastic restraints, some tied so tightly that their arms bled, and pushed at gunpoint in front of the terminal building. As they lined the captives up for a photo opportunity in front of the building’s “Welcome” sign, Brig. Ishaq Shaheen, the head of the Pakistani contingent, furiously shouted at the Marines: “Where’s your . . . commander?”

The Marines froze.

Later, Shaheen personally cut loose the prisoners.

“They work for me,” he said. “I don’t know what’s happening.”