Surprises Greet Southland Marines in Mogadishu

Less than 24 hours earlier, Marine corpsman Deborah Dunning was driving down the highway in Southern California, heading for a Northwest Airlines charter out of San Diego.

Now, she was running from Marine to Marine on a scalding tarmac in Mogadishu, trying to help the first major batch of Marine reinforcements from Camp Pendleton dig in and secure Somalia’s most vital seaport.

“It was not what I expected. It’s really a mess,” she said Friday, pulling on her flak vest as she strode across the port’s vast loading area. “It’s a big asphalt mess. You can’t dig holes. You can’t do the usual sanitation. We didn’t think it would be like this.”

No one did, it seems.

Just a few feet away, another group of Pendleton Marines were chopping at the asphalt, trying to sink an 81-millimeter mortar made for field warfare into four inches of asphalt and concrete.

Beside them, a Marine marksman crouched behind his M-60 machine gun, unmoving, taking a constant bead on a rowdy group of what appeared to be Somali well-wishers on a high-rise ruin just outside the port.

Those were only a handful of the many surprises that Mogadishu had Friday for the latest arrivals in Operation Restore Hope--713 Pendleton Marines, the first wave of troops dispatched directly from the United States. Camp Pendleton’s 1st Marine Expeditionary Force, ultimately, will make up the bulk of the 28,000-strong, U.S.-led and U.N.-sanctioned force here.

Clearly, the Friday arrivals and their reactions were representative of far more than just Southern California’s large contribution to the military mission of restoring order to Somalia and feeding its starving millions. They were stark illustrations of how little the Marines hadbeen told about the strange new land they will call home for the next few weeks.

Rude awakenings abounded even before the new arrivals left Mogadishu’s dilapidated international airport for their mile-long convoy ride to the port; these two strategic sites were taken and cleared just before dawn Wednesday by an assault force that had been aboard a three-ship flotilla since October.

“We never really prepared for this, but we’ve got to do what we’ve got to do,” said Lance Cpl. Coltan Bellomo, a Cleveland native in a unit charged with setting up radio communications systems.

“It’s kind of wild,” he said as he surveyed the crowds of Somalis packed outside the airport gate. “You see dogs on the airstrip. It’s not as confusing as I thought. It seems pretty secure. But it’s wild.”

Most of the Pendleton newcomers were even more astonished when they reached the airport road that leads to their ultimate objective--the port. The entire route was lined, as it has been each day since the first Marines hit Mogadishu’s beaches, with thousands of curious, generally grateful Somali onlookers. Many waved. Most--the women in bright saris, the children in rags and the men in soiled caftans--just stared at the modern machines of war and the troops in their crisp “chocolate chip” camouflage uniforms.

“People here are smiling like they just discovered teeth,” observed Maj. Steve Little, who was among Friday’s arrivals.

David Walker--a Marine chaplain, a lieutenant and a San Fernando Valley native--had a different view when he began ministering to his troops on the tarmac within an hour of their arrival. He said the city’s vast slums of squatters, acres of blown-out buildings, reeking shallow-grave cemeteries and malnourished masses are bound to have a profound impact on the fresh-faced troops in the weeks and months to come.

“The thing I’m looking toward is a lot of Marines are going to react to what they see here,” said Walker, an Assemblies of God minister who stresses that he is here for the Marines and not to proselytize. “I expect to see a lot of emotional stress from seeing the conditions here--the intense poverty, the starvation.”

Just outside the port’s heavily guarded entrance gate, a quarter-mile or so away from the new arrivals, a Pendleton sentry was checking suspicious vehicles and fast becoming a Mogadishu veteran.

“It’s kind of a mixed bag,” said Lance Cpl. Jack Brenner, of Sausalito, when asked his reaction to Mogadishu--and its reaction to him. “It’s hot, and the place is in pretty bad shape. The Somalis, well, some are real friends. And some kind of hate us, I guess. I had a little kid spit on me this morning. But mostly, I think they’re real glad we’re here.”

Two Somali visitors to the port gate just after noon Friday certainly were friendly to Lt. Chris Gideons, a San Clemente native then in charge of the guard post.

“Really, sir, we were a long time in serious hell,” the young Somali told Gideons. He said his name was Afshal Abdullah and he asked if he could enter the port to watch the Marines prepare for their massive military relief operation.

“I’m sorry,” Gideons replied. “I have my orders. I’d like to, but I can’t.”

When the boy left, Gideons smiled to himself and said, “Just winning the hearts and minds.”

Still, echoing the sentiment of many of the men and women who took a brief rest in the few patches of shade inside the sprawling port complex during Friday’s scorching heat, Walker said the mission itself will help cut through the depression. “The fact that we’re not actually here for killing and shooting people, well, we all feel pretty good about that.”

Times staff writer Scott Kraft contributed to this story.