When 1st Lieut. Raied showed up for work on April 4 at Camp Eagle, a U.S. Army base in the east Baghdad slum of Sadr City, he knew he wouldn't have much company. The executive officer of the 306th Battalion of the Iraqi Civil Defense Corps (ICDC), Raied and other battalion members had been warned by locals not to report for duty after fighting broke out between militants loyal to the Shi'ite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr and U.S. forces. Raied, who like his comrades asked to be identified only by his first name, estimates that only a third of his battalion was willing to brave their neighbors' threats. He was one. But when he got to Camp Eagle, Iraqi security guards manning the gate told Raied he wasn't needed, apparently acting on instructions from U.S. commanders. "When I heard that I was sick at heart," he says. "I knew that the real reason was that the Americans wanted to finish killing people in Sadr City. Our duty is to protect the people. But the Americans don't trust us."

The U.S. says only two Iraqis from Raied's company made it to work that day, after an ambush by al-Sadr's forces killed eight U.S. soldiers. Since then, about 100 of the 700 members of the 306th Battalion have gone missing in action. Of the rest, say the U.S. soldiers at the camp, 90% fail to show up on days of high tension. Those officers who have remained on the job — men like Raied, a former master sergeant in the old Iraqi army — say the bloody fighting that had gripped the country over the past month was a watershed; local people have turned against the U.S. and the ICDC. Morale has been shattered, and many Shi'ites, including members of the ICDC, have become hostile to the U.S. presence. Like most Iraqis, Raied believes the U.S. must give more responsibility to local forces if it hopes to quell the insurgency. But he concedes that his men are nowhere close to ready. "We started from zero. By early April we had got up to 75% of ideal efficiency," he says. "Now we are back to about 25%. If we continue like this I recommend we disband the ICDC, because it is doing nothing for the Iraqi people."

Coming at a time when the U.S. needs Iraqi help more than ever, that is a brutal assessment. With fresh troops in limited supply and many of Washington's coalition partners bailing out, U.S. commanders have spent months scrambling to train and push forward Iraqi security and police forces who can relieve exhausted U.S. troops, lift the U.S.'s footprint from the occupation and maintain law and order after June 30, when the U.S. plans to turn over sovereignty to a caretaker Iraqi government. The results aren't encouraging. Military officials say that in areas where anti-U.S. violence broke out early this month, only half the local members of the ICDC, an estimated 31,000-man force created by the U.S. last June to maintain security in Iraq, remained at their posts. General Martin Dempsey, commander of the 1st Armored Division, says "40% walked off the job because they were intimidated, and 10% actually worked against us." In Fallujah, all but 15 of the 2,200 U.S.-trained Iraqi troops deserted when the Marines moved into the city; the Marines had to confiscate the equipment and weapons of deserters to prevent them from aiding the insurgents. In the Shi'ite-dominated south, Iraqi police watched idly as members of al-Sadr's Medhi Army seized their buildings, weapons and vehicles. The inability or unwillingness of the Iraqis to help suppress the twin uprisings forced U.S. officials to admit publicly last week what many have assumed for months. General John Abizaid, head of the U.S. Central Command (Centcom), says Iraqi security forces won't be ready to assume control until September at the earliest.

But with popular hostility to U.S. forces threatening to boil over, the U.S. may not be able to wait. In response to the dismal performance of its Iraqi recruits this month, the military has sent General David Petraeus, the celebrated commander of the 101st Airborne Division, back to Iraq to oversee the recruitment and training of new Iraqi military personnel. U.S. Administrator L. Paul Bremer reversed his year-old decree banning senior members of Saddam Hussein's Baath Party from holding any government jobs — a policy that gutted Iraq's military and police of most of their top leaders. The U.S. hopes that bringing unemployed officers back into the fold will improve the morale and professionalism of the security forces and begin to erode the core of support for the insurgency, particularly in the Sunni badlands.

That task has been made more daunting by the insurgents' ability to intimidate, threaten and often kill Iraqis cooperating with U.S. forces. Three police stations in Basra were attacked last week by suicide bombers, killing 68 people. In Baghdad, police officers say they patrol only when they absolutely have to, and spend much of their time trying to avoid being connected to their U.S. employers. Many wear masks to hide their identities. "All the policemen are afraid," says Sergeant Walid Hani Hamid. "People think the Iraqi police are walking hand in hand with the Americans. We are forced to sneak back to our houses the way the mukhabarat did during Saddam's time."

U.S. officials are running out of patience with the Iraqis' failure to step up. "If you do not defend your beloved country, it will not be saved," Bremer said in an address to the Iraqi public last Friday. And yet some of the blame for the impotence of the Iraqi security and police forces lies with U.S. mismanagement. Military officials say the Pentagon's decision to disband the Iraqi military last May was a disaster, in part because it deprived the new forces of any central command. In its rush to get the Iraqis onto the streets, the U.S. never settled on who should train the new forces; instead, responsibility was divided among the military, the Coalition Provisional Authority and the State Department. The Pentagon has since decided to place all Iraqi forces under Centcom, but military experts say thousands of Iraqis have already been pushed into duty without adequate training.

Meanwhile, U.S. Army officials canceled the $327 million contract to supply Iraqi forces with equipment, such as body armor and weapons, after they concluded "ambiguities" in the contract's language might expose the U.S. government to legal challenges from losing bidders. Major General Charles Swannack Jr., commander of the 82nd Airborne Division, says that when his troops left Iraq in January, the Iraqis under their command were still waiting for their gear. "It never came on my watch," he says. Testifying before Congress last week, Deputy Defense Secretary Paul Wolfowitz blasted Washington "bureaucracy" for the Iraqis' lack of firepower. "A lot of the equipment problems, frankly, are an embarrassment to the United States of America," he said. Says retired General Barry McCaffrey, who commanded an Army division during Gulf War I: "The money, the equipment and the uniforms have all been screwed up from the start."

All those failings are manifest at Camp Eagle in Sadr City, where members of the U.S. Army's 1st Cavalry Division have assumed responsibility for training and overseeing the 306th Battalion of the ICDC. Most of the members of the battalion are former day laborers who have not undergone physical or medical screening. They are supposed to show up at 8:30 a.m., though there is no penalty for tardiness. After a short workout, a good deal of horseplay and some training, the Iraqis take on basic duties, like manning traffic-control checkpoints. At 2 p.m. they eat lunch and go home. The soldiers working with the Iraqis — senior officers insisted they be identified only as "advisers"--do not hold out much hope that their charges will be prepared to take over from the U.S. anytime soon. "They have no sense of discipline," says one sergeant. "We do our job and think of chow after. They want to break for chow as quickly as possible." But the Americans also sympathize with the Iraqis' complaints that they can't stand up to anyone with such shoddy equipment. "They don't have their own flak jackets — the fastest ones get them, the rest go without," says one U.S. adviser. "Their weapons are old and unreliable." As a result, says another adviser, "when they go out with us they feel like amateurs. It's s___ for morale."

The Iraqis at Camp Eagle say the pressure on them is almost unbearable. When they return home at night, many are threatened with death; some battalion members believe their comrades leak information. On a patrol with the Americans through Sadr City's teeming thoroughfares, the hostility the Iraqis face from their neighbors is inescapable. "People keep insulting me," an Iraqi conscript named Abdullah tells a U.S. sergeant. "Can I shoot them?" The sergeant tries to calm him, explaining that the rules of engagement do not permit the use of deadly force against hecklers. At this point, Adnan, 37, former explosives specialist in the Iraqi army who is one of the platoon sergeants for the battalion, intervenes. "Cool down," he tells Abdullah. "Just remember that everyone here hates us, and keep on with your work."

With so much of Iraq in danger of sliding out of its control, the U.S. will need to maintain cooperation from Iraqis like those in the 306th Battalion if it is to have any chance of restoring order. Raied, the battalion's executive officer, says, "We will continue to support the U.S. troops until June 30. We want to see if they keep their promises." The U.S., in turn, is staking its hopes for stability on Iraqis like Raied and Sergeant Adnan, who was one of two members of his company who turned up after the April 4 fighting started, despite the threats. "I don't like it when someone tells me what I can and can't do with my life," he says. But the dilemma for him and his U.S. bosses is that his determination to stay with the U.S. has put his life in even greater danger. A couple of days ago, someone slipped a death threat under his door. With his next paycheck, Adnan plans to buy a new gun.

• Romesh Ratnesar and Paul Quinn-Judge/Sadr City