In Afghan Valley, a Peaceful War

One of Maggi's principal roles, since the Mushai operation began in October, has been to help recruit, equip and train local police. The Italians have provided them with pickup trucks, radios, boots and wool winter uniforms. They are also building a brick police and administrative headquarters to replace the rudimentary hillside compound that is now the government's only structure in the district.

"Things have changed a lot since the colonel came," said the Mushai police chief, Commander Arif. "We are in an open area where people can come across from Pakistan, and we had no checkpoints before. Now we have three new checkpoints, joint patrols and 112 police officers getting trained. The people are collaborating 100 percent, so the insurgents cannot do their work."

The skill level of the police is still low, and Wednesday's giveaway program was briefly marred when an argument broke out around a truck laden with firewood. One inexperienced policeman hit a man with his rifle, bloodying his nose and angering the crowd.

But in general, the welcome received here by Maggi's forces, who attend regular meetings with local leaders, has stood in sharp contrast to the angry resentment aroused last fall when U.S. combat forces staged a raid looking for Taliban and al-Qaeda insurgents. Residents said the troops entered houses at night, herded women and children outside in the rain and shot one civilian dead.

"They did many wrong things, and the people were unhappy," said Maulvi Shirin Agha, a senior cleric in the valley, who helped organize the aid distribution this week. "They were looking for al-Qaeda, but there has been no al-Qaeda here for the last five years. The Italians behave very well with the people, and everyone likes them," he said. "The Taliban can only dream of coming back."

Aside from the improved security, leaders in the Mushai Valley said they were most grateful to the Italians for providing free medical aid. The area has no clinics, and families said that when they take sick children to hospitals in Kabul, they are turned away or given inadequate treatment.

On Wednesday, parents lined up all day outside the tent clinic where Lidia Sarntaro, a doctor and Italian army lieutenant, treated their children for coughs, headaches, rashes and more serious ailments. Twice she administered a local anesthetic and removed shrapnel fragments from a child's arm, bending over a metal cot with a scalpel and gauze to stanch the bleeding.

Lala Gul brought in his son Akmal, 7, who was left with a fragment in his arm last year when a shell he and another boy were handling exploded.

Gul worriedly watched the boy's frightened face while Sarntaro stitched up his arm. The second boy waited outside.

"I took them to the city, but nobody helped us. All the doctors asked us for too much money," said Gul, a farm laborer with eight children. He said he was taking home a bundle of food supplies, though he did not fully understand who had donated them. "The elders told us to come here today to get help," he said. "It is free, so I am happy."