Battles flare in Baghdad outskirts

The US Marines expressed elation and wonderment at what they saw unfold in front of them. "At least we got it right in this war," said Staff Sgt. Bill Pulliam, with a reserve unit from Johnstown, Pa. Dozens of members of his unit died in the first Gulf War when a Scud missile hit their living quarters in Saudi Arabia. "The American public won't stand for high casualties anymore, and our military is smarter than ever."

Another young marine, Sgt. Rob Parsons, wielded a .50 caliber machine gun as his vehicle approached a Tigris River crossing. "I don't like the looks of this place," Sergeant Parsons, a Maine resident, muttered as we approached a large crowd of men who attempted to saddle up to our Humvee.

A staff sergeant shooed them away out of fears that a suicide bomber could be lurking among them.

But soon, Sergeant Parsons was feeling relaxed, even satisfied at a job well done. It was his first trip into Baghdad and he was startled by the scenes of bedlam and cheering children.

"This isn't so bad after all," he said, grabbing a cheese snack out of his backpack. "Not at all what I expected."

It was not clear, however, when or if Marine commanders would order their elite forces to intervene to stop the mass destruction being carried out by raiders inside embassies, factories, and the homes of foreign regime members.

Few Iraqis celebrated wildly Thursday; many more of them preferred to join in the massive looting. Men in long gowns and turbans hauled off oil barrels, sinks, generators, and gold-plated bathroom fixtures. Some locals prevented from crossing the Tigris River on foot opted to dive into the chilly waters and swim across to join in the mayhem east of the river.

In the Baghdad home of Ali Hassan Al Majid, or "Chemical Ali," the deceased cousin of Saddam Hussein who is believed to have been the mastermind of chemical attacks against Iraqi Kurds, a young woman, Enas, screamed for joy as her brother, Arkan, carted off gold-plated panels from above a fireplace in the living room.

Mr. Al Majid was reportedly killed in the southern city of Basra over the weekend. "I have no house but these murderers were living like kings!" she said as she led a reporter on a tour of the home. "Now we will take what is ours."

By midafternoon, impoverished Iraqis had moved most of Mr. Al Majid's furniture and bathroom trimmings out into waiting vehicles.

Iraqi businessman Mustafa Nakishly says that he worries about who will control the country in the days ahead.

"I'm frightened of the new government coming. We just got rid of the Baath Party, and they were criminals. I don't want any Iraqi government until everything settles down. Suddenly, when you are free, it is like children being locked in a room who run around and go crazy."

• Staff writer Andy Nelson in Baghdad contributed to this report, and material from the wire services was also used.

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