AL AMARAH BLUES

摘要

At 8 o'clock on a sultry Ramadan evening, a Toyota pickup full of ragtag gunmen lumbers beside the Tigris River kin the southern Iraqi town of Al Amarah. They brandish aging AK-47s― some looted from Saddam Hussein's old armories, others purchased in local markets― and wear a thrift-shop assortment of tattered uniforms. Ammo pouches bulging from khaki vests, checked kaffiyehs draped around their faces, they look like a motley bunch of guerrillas. This is Al Amarah's police force on evening rounds. "Everything all right tonight?" one patrolman asks a pair of security men in front of the Rasheed Bank. The guards nod, and the 15 cops pile back into their truck and roar off into the night. "If we had a few more vehicles, we could split up the group," says Ahmed, 21, the squad's self-described leader.