Ramadi diary: Tale of two Ramadis

The BBC's Andrew North is spending the week with US troops in Ramadi, the capital of Anbar province and a stronghold of the Sunni insurgency. Here is his second in a series of reports from the town, about 70km (45 miles) west of Baghdad.

This is a tale of two Ramadis.

The US forces aim to help the Iraqis take over security

In one, violence is still routine. In the other, it is starting to become rare. The question is which one is going to win out.

Things appear to be at a tipping point, although that has been said about Ramadi plenty of times before.

The Americans see it as a "centre of gravity" in Sunni-dominated Anbar province, the beating heart of the insurgency.

They hope success here against the insurgents who have controlled the city for much of the past four years could have knock-on effects across Anbar.

That is why thousands of extra troops are being sent to Ramadi under President Bush's surge plan.

Just another day

The first Ramadi woke me with a jolt the other day. A large explosion somewhere near our base. The shipping container-style huts in which I and my two BBC colleagues are staying shook with the force.

A short while later, there was another blast. Then gunfire, which grew in volume and intensity over the next few hours.

The sharper, piercing sound of Kalashnikovs was met by the deeper, menacing thump of American .50 calibre heavy machine guns.

The word was that US forces on the other side of the river Euphrates were carrying out a "clearing operation", trying to push insurgents from one district.

How many times had it been "cleared" before, I wondered.

Whatever was happening - and it was almost impossible to find out from my side of the river - it was not a major operation. Just another day in Ramadi.

New mood

In the palm-fringed village of Albu Shaban, on the city outskirts, things are a little different.

Democracy it is not, but it does appear to be providing the beginnings of stability

"You are safe here," said the local police chief, Lt Col Abdul Ghaffur, as we walked through his domain.

"All the police are my cousins and uncles." He gestured at the officers around him.

Memories of meeting local police officers in remote districts of Afghanistan come to mind.

Two brown cows in a field watch our progress through the village.

I have come here on a joint Iraqi and American patrol, with the Iraqi police leading the way.

"This used to be an al-Qaeda stronghold", said the police chief.

With the support of the local tribes and the Americans, he said, they had pushed them out.

But al-Qaeda has been very effective at heading off such moves in the past - killing and intimidating anyone who dared confront their supporters.

Both the Americans and the police chief think there's now a new mood here.

But they concede the battle is not over.

"They could still come back," Lt Col Ghaffur warned.

"We need the support of the government to rebuild the area."

Moving on

As ever, it is all about winning hearts and minds.

Thousands more US troops are being sent to Ramadi

The Americans have a small base nearby. It is an Alamo-style encampment in a large house on the village edge, which they call a "combat outpost".

There are many such bases around this area, part of an American effort to spread their presence and help Iraqi security forces take over.

But as Lt Col Ghaffur's men have taken over, the troops have less and less to do. They are part of a cavalry unit, trained for frontline action. They are getting bored.

"The only attacks we get now are from dogs," said one soldier.

There is talk of moving on.

But what kind of police force will they leave behind? Whose orders does it follow?

They may want government support but that does not mean they support the government.

One police officer openly described the politicians in Baghdad as Iranians - a common term of abuse among the Sunnis of Anbar for Iraq's Shia-dominated government.

'One of theirs'

The tribe is what counts. Just before the patrol began, we came across another unit of police celebrating a successful mission against insurgents that morning in the centre of Ramadi.

There was gunfire and cheering. "Long live Iraq", "Long live Ramadi" and then "Long Live Abu Risha", they chanted in unison. Abu Risha is the name of the local tribal leader.

Democracy it is not, but it does appear to be providing the beginnings of stability.

Whoever they follow, these new police are taking big risks.

As the patrol returned to base, a car drew up. Inside was a young policeman, barely conscious in the back seat. He had been injured by a roadside bomb during a mission that morning.

His legs were bandaged up but fresh blood was oozing through.

He was pulled from the car and stretchered over to the American outpost.

Medics set to work on him, snipping off his trousers and bandages.

He had several shrapnel wounds in his legs and feet.

He winced as the medics inspected him.

The chief medic - a veteran of the 1991 Gulf war as well as of this conflict - Sgt Joel Buchanan, said he would rather be treating this police officer than a fellow American.

"I mean this is a result of him being out on patrol doing his job for his country as opposed to us getting wasted for him."

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Other reports in this series:

Ramadi diary: Baghdad to Ramadi