FALLUJAH, Iraq, Feb. 14 -- In a brazen, daylight attack, fighters with rocket-propelled grenades, machine guns and mortars stormed a police station Saturday in the restive town of Fallujah, freeing dozens of prisoners in a battle that killed as many as 23 people and dealt another blow to U.S. efforts to resurrect Iraq's security forces.
Some policemen who survived the attack said they huddled inside rooms as guerrillas unleashed a barrage of fire for more than a half-hour on two fortified security posts in this city, 35 miles west of Baghdad. Police complained they were outgunned and out-maneuvered by the fighters, who arrived in cars, then raced through concrete barricades and surged inside the police station on foot.
U.S. forces, nominally in charge of security, had not arrived at the scene by late afternoon. The debacle at the police station raised new questions the ability of Iraqis to assume control of security when the United States hands over sovereignty June 30.
"There was no place without blood," said one witness, Sinjar Hammad.
While security posts in Fallujah and elsewhere have regularly come under fire, Saturday's assault was unprecedented in tactics and audacity. Barricades constructed to withstand the kind of car bombings that killed at least 100 Iraqis this week served as cover for the fighters, who concealed their faces with checkered headdresses. Shouting "God is greatest," some repeatedly returned to cars to reload ammunition, witnesses said.
Survivors painted a scene of confusion and chaos, as the fighters blew open a metal gate with a rocket-propelled grenade, then fought police at close quarters inside the station's courtyard. Another assault was launched at the local headquarters of the Iraqi Civil Defense Corps, where the top U.S. commander in the Middle East, Gen. John Abizaid, came under attack two days earlier. He escaped that ambush unharmed.
Within minutes, the fighters made their way to a detention area at the police station and freed prisoners. Witnesses said at least 50 were released, and the Iraqi Interior Ministry put the number at 87. Several witnesses said they saw detainees fleeing through the streets, some of them carrying blankets from their cells. Police and hospital employees said they believed most of the detainees were being held for criminal offenses and not for acts of resistance. Other officials suggested there could be foreigners among the prisoners.
"We've never seen anything like it," said Salem Fayedh, a 51-year-old city employee who was near the scene. "We've seen bombs, grenades and land mines, but never someone fighting hand to hand. It was like a war between militias."
At least 17 people were killed and 33 wounded, most of them policemen, said Dr. Abdel-Jabbar Hadithi, the deputy director of Fallujah General Hospital. Other hospital officials said three fighters also were killed, but their bodies were taken to a morgue in nearby Ramadi. At one point in the early afternoon, armed men surged into the hospital, trying unsuccessfully to locate wounded fighters. One of the wounded assailants was said to have a Lebanese passport.
The Iraqi Interior Ministry put the dead at 23 and said 37 others were wounded.
In a city rife with rumors and conspiracies, some policemen said they believed the fighters were motivated by clan or tribal affiliations in freeing the prisoners. But most in this overwhelmingly Sunni Muslim town placed the blame on Iranian agents or the Badr Brigade, a militia long exiled in Iran that is controlled by Iraq's leading Shiite Muslim party, the Supreme Council for the Islamic Revolution in Iraq.
"It was the Badr Brigades. They just want to sow destruction," said Mohammed Jassim, a 22-year-old police officer. "They killed Iraqi citizens. They're inhuman."
One officer, Jumaa Mohammed Darwish, said the fighters shouted "God is greatest" in an Arabic accent that didn't sound Iraqi. Another officer, Mohammed Khalil, said one of the dead fighters wore a black headband that read, "There is no god but God, the Forces of Hezbollah." Hezbollah, which usually refers to the Party of God, Lebanon's most powerful Shiite organization, is a name also used by Shiite groups elsewhere in the Arab world.
Throughout the afternoon, rumors raced through the hospital of grenades recovered from fighters inscribed with "Oh, Hussein," Shiite Islam's most beloved saint, and of bodies of two fighters recovered that were identified as Iranians.
The Sunni triangle, which stretches west from Fallujah and north to Mosul, is home to Iraq's traditional rulers. Since the fall of president Saddam Hussein last year, it has been wracked by insecurity over a future in which the Shiite majority is expected to at least lead a government. In that climate, speculation is often heard that the Badr Brigades or Iranian intelligence are behind attacks or seeking to exert their influence in Sunni towns, but no concrete evidence of an active Shiite role has emerged.
But whether or not the fighting bore a sectarian stamp, the perception alone promised to aggravate tensions in a country becoming more and more divided along religious and ethnic lines. Last week, U.S. officials released a 17-page letter from Abu Musab Zarqawi, a suspected al Qaeda operative believed to be operating in Iraq, that suggested plans for igniting a sectarian war between Shiites and Sunnis.
The aftermath of the attack seemed almost sure to underline the weak capabilities of Iraq's reconstituted security forces, which are gradually supposed to inherit from U.S. forces the bulk of security responsibilities by this summer.
Faris Ibrahim, a 34-year-old officer recovering at the hospital, said a grenade bounced off his flak jacket, then exploded near his feet. Both his legs were bandaged and bloodied as he lay in his bed. Shrapnel from a second grenade had struck his right arm.
"It came from all directions," he said. "For a half-hour, you wouldn't believe it."
Two other colleagues were wounded, and together, they withdrew into a room inside the two-story brick station, he said. The windows were shot out, and fighters tried to throw grenades inside. As he lay in the room, one of his colleagues tore off his shirt attempted to bandage his leg. They hid behind debris until the fighting ended an hour later, he said.
"They were better trained than us, one million times," Ibrahim said.
Darwish said he was drinking tea when the shooting started -- first a barrage of gunfire, followed by rocket-propelled grenades, mortars and hand grenades. His left leg was wounded, and he took cover in a guard's room in the courtyard. He and other officers ran out of ammunition, then tried to barricade the doors.
He spoke in a whisper, as he lay on bloodied sheets, his shirt open. He said they survived only because the fighters thought they had killed everybody inside. "All the people here are dead, let's go," he heard one of the fighters say as he passed the room.
"It was a massacre," Darwish said.
