Use of Force at Issue in a Land of Anarchy : Somalia: The outcome could affect Marine’s career and set precedents for U.S. troops.

U.S. Marine Gunnery Sgt. Harry Conde sat for six hours Thursday in a room at the Mogadishu airport, straining to hear over the thundering helicopters and whining jets nearby.

He was intent on the drama unfolding before him here, thousands of miles from his home base at Camp Pendleton, during a proceeding that may determine his military career and set precedents for Somalia and the American force that has spent three months trying to save this country.

One by one, Conde’s colleagues in a tightly knit Marine team took the witness stand, a battered, metal folding chair beneath a window without glass. In the makeshift courtroom, barren except for a rickety table and six chairs, they described how the 33-year-old sergeant, who has served 13 years in the corps, fired his M-79 grenade launcher at point-blank range at a 17-year-old Somali who had reached through the window of a moving military vehicle to steal his prescription sunglasses a month ago.

At the time, Conde’s vehicle was being swarmed; the sergeant has said he believed he was being attacked. His team members stated under oath that, two weeks earlier, their leader had been shot and badly wounded by a sniper on a similar supply mission.

But then, Lance Cpl. Chad Rivet, who was driving the Humvee that day, made a dramatic statement.

Rivet testified that Conde, minutes after firing a 40-millimeter grenade packed with buckshot from a weapon confiscated earlier from a Somali arsenal, and never looking back from his passenger-side seat, said: “They’re gone. The (expletive) stole my sunglasses.” Then, recalling they shared a laugh at the time, Rivet said that Conde added, “But that (expletive) got one hell of a headache.”

Conde is expected to testify today when the proceedings continue. The session, an Article 32 hearing that could lead to a formal court-martial, is the first such disciplinary proceeding for a member of the American military force here since the United States launched its massive humanitarian mission.

In this land, where anarchy and civil war have so long prevailed, where there seem to be no laws, jails or government anymore, and where Somalis have shot, shelled, stabbed and starved tens of thousands of their own compatriots to death without a criminal charge being filed, it struck some here as ironic that the first legal proceeding in public memory is for an American Marine who had come to help stop Somalia’s bloodletting.

But as Capt. Chris Wesely, the hearing officer in the Conde case, observed during one of the recesses forced by the deafening airport noise: “We don’t fight wars without law anymore. The only law here is what we brought with us, and that’s what I think is ironic.”

For the 16,000 or so American troops remaining in Somalia, Conde’s hearing is more than ironic. It is the first of two such disciplinary hearings announced by American commanders here. They said Thursday that investigations into other allegations of excessive force could lead to more discipline sessions, which, could lead to courts-martial and possibly jail terms.

The hearings come at a time when the lavish, sincere displays of Somali affection that greeted the U.S. Marines last December are waning. Marines on patrol have been stoned with increasing frequency. Two have been killed by Somali snipers. And, during last week’s bloody anti-American demonstrations, most felt their lives under almost constant threat.

Underscoring the daily dangers of life in Mogadishu, Capt. Stephanie Jennings--Conde’s defense counsel, a Marine lawyer from New York who underwent the same six-month basic training as a combat officer--noted that she was awakened at 5 a.m. Thursday when a Molotov cocktail landed in the compound where she is staying. On Wednesday, an American soldier chasing a Somali youth who was trying to steal tires had his jaw broken by a 2-by-4 when he attempted to follow the suspect.

As a Marine who patrols the city daily atop an armored Humvee put it: “First we get stoned and shot at by the Somalis. Now our own command is after us. It is not a good situation. You just can’t imagine what it’s like out there.”

Marine Col. Frederic Lorenz said he knows the reality of the Somali mission. As staff judge advocate, Lorenz, from Vista, Calif., heads the office that filed and is prosecuting the disciplinary cases. Lorenz has been robbed by a Somali who sneaked into a secure compound and stole a priceless antique camera; he had his hat ripped off his head recently when he got stuck at an intersection in the capital.

“Things are getting tougher,” he said, adding that disciplinary cases also are on the rise. “The conditions in the streets. The kids. You know, the first month we were here, we drove down the street and the little kids waved and we had no trouble. But then, the kids started getting more bold.”

He said he is aware that the surges in armed robbery and anti-American sentiment here have also led to an increase in the dangers facing the troops. But he insisted that the disciplinary hearings will not affect the overwhelming majority of the American troops here.

“There’s been a lot of shooting incidents in this country, and in my opinion, the Marines and soldiers have used remarkable amounts of restraint,” he said, adding: “My impression is that the Marines and soldiers here are doing a remarkably good job of understanding the rules of engagement.”

Lorenz, as a matter of fact, wrote the rules. He had 40,000 pocket-size versions of the five key items--rules, for example, on the use of force--distributed to troops here. The top proviso: “Nothing in these rules of engagement limits your right to take appropriate action to defend yourself and your unit.”

Lorenz defended himself and his unit from criticism from some American troops who speculated that the disciplinary hearings were meant to blunt growing anti-American sentiment here.

“We’re certainly not here to dampen criticism,” he replied. “The action and the review we take in every case is the same. And I can say that we don’t move on to the criminal proceeding unless it’s warranted.

“We don’t want to deter that Marine or soldier who is out there driving down the street from doing his job,” he noted. “Those are tough calls that they make. But when they do exceed the bounds,” his office acts, as it did in the case involving Conde and the 17-year-old Somali, identified only as Omar. Even a bystander wounded in the blast said the teen-ager was a well-known thief.

Foreshadowing the sergeant’s defense, lawyer Jennings asked Rivet, the Humvee driver Conde was guarding at the time, if he understood the rules of engagement for the Somali mission. He replied, “My understanding is, if I feel threatened in any way, that’s basically it”--sufficient reason to open fire on a potential attacker.

Jennings then asked the lance corporal whether he felt his life was endangered during the three-second encounter in which he had testified that the Somali teen-ager had covered his gunnery sergeant’s eyes with his hand, while lunging for his sunglasses.

“Yes I did, ma’am,” Rivet replied. “I felt threatened because I could not see the other hand of that Somali. . . . I couldn’t tell if he had a weapon or not.”

Finally, the defense attorney asked the corporal whether it was fair to say that the earlier shooting of their unit commander had weighed heavily on the minds of all nine men in the radar team each time they went out on the streets.

“All the time, ma’am,” Rivet replied. “All the time.”